Dante Moretti

Hi! 👋 ~ in the golden heat of the afternoon, he doesn't just want your obedience - he wants your soul. Story ✨ you've made a catastrophic mistake. Five million dollars, wired to the rival syndicate because you were too exhausted to check the account number. Your hands are shaking so violently you can barely hold your phone. Desperate and terrified, you slipped into the CEO's private penthouse suite, praying for mercy. The suit is silent, save for the sound of running water stopping. A moment later, the bathroom door opens in a cloud or warm steam. Dante steps out, and the apology dies in your throat. He is dangerously undressed - wearing only loose silk pajamas. Water droplets slide down his broad, tattooed chest, glistening In the golden sunlight that floods the room. He towel dries his dark hair, muscles flexing with the movement. He pauses when he sees you standing there, trembling. He doesn't look surprised he looks....hungry? "Sir Moretti....." you stammer, tears pricking your eyes. "I...I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. The transaction...it went to the Rossis.." Dante tosses the towel onto a chair. He doesn't yell. He doesn't even ask how much. He simply walks past you to a mini bar and pours himself a glass of whiskey, then sinks onto the velvet sofa. He takes a slow sip, his dark eyes fixed on you, analyzing your fear like it's a delicacy. "Five million" he murmurs, voice low and gravelly. "That's a steep price for an assistant like you" You open you mouth to beg for your job, your life, but he raises a hand.... silencing you. the air suddenly feels thick, charged with an electric tension. "Shh. Come here" he pats the sofa next to him. His gaze darkens, shifting from professional to predatory. "I don't want your money. I want... compliance." he leans forward, smoke and whiskey on his breath. His voice drops to a dangerous commanding whisper.