A Queen’s Gambit

The sound of heavy footfall reverberated through the compound, evoking the atmosphere of approaching thunder. Francesca was afraid, and Elena's pallid expression showed that this was not a joke.

The men from Rossi had shown up, and they were not there to strike up a conversation. In the space of a few seconds, Dante's stance transformed from calm commander to calculating tactician.

Taking it from the back of the chair, he draped his jacket over his large shoulders. "Take Francesca to the east wing, Elena.” Dante gave the order in a voice as firm as iron.

Francesca’s heart palpitated. She detested being dependent on others and feeling like a liability. "I will not go to the east wing while you are waging war here."

Dante darted his gaze in her direction, his eyes darker than she had ever seen. "This is not up for discussion."

Elena moved forward and attempted to take Francesca’s arm, but Francesca pulled away. "I'm not some helpless girl! If Lorenzo thinks he can intimidate me into submitting, then___”

“He's not trying to intimidate you,” Dante interrupted, his voice sinister and low. "He's attempting to convey a message. Staying down here will make you an easy target.”

Her heart clenched in her chest, but she would not give up. “Then explain the true situation to me. Dante, why are they here? Why is Lorenzo concerned about my father's debt to such an extent?”

Dante paused for a minute, as if he was considering telling her or not. “Money is not a concern for Lorenzo. He's trying to reach me by using your father's debt. He's in the mood for war.”

"War?" Francesca felt her weight shift on the floor. "Over what?"

Dante angrily remarked, dismissing Francesca’s question, "Elena, get her out of here now."

Francesca lost all semblance of patience. "No! Unless you tell me the truth, I won't move.”

Dante's jaw clenched so hard she was afraid he would break a tooth. Burning with frustration but also something deeper, his gaze remained riveted on her.

"Elena, go stay with Ma and the kids." Dante said, his voice hard, “I will see to this."

After a moment of hesitation during which her eyes flicked back and forth between Dante and Francesca, Elena grudgingly nodded and retreated from the room, her face plastered with concern.

Even though Francesca would never acknowledge it as she held her ground, her hands trembled a little. As Dante drew nearer to her, the environment became tense and electrified. Everything else seemed to be obscured by his massive frame.

"You want the truth?" His voice was low yet powerful as he growled. “Alright. In the not-too-distant past, the Rossi family held the most power in the city after my father died. Everything was run by them until I arrived.”

Francesca caught her breath. "You're telling me this is about territory?"

Dante's gaze grew strained. “There is more to it than that. It has to do with your mother, Lorenzo’s father, and my father. Power and love lost.”

"What? You mean my mother was involved with these two men?” Francesca moved toward him and asked.

“Yes.” I don’t know how much Lorenzo knows about the past, but Lorenzo is using you as a prop to get to me. He knows that I won't allow anything to happen to you.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.” Francesca cried.

Suddenly Dante's hand shot out; he seized her wrist and pulled her hard against him, bringing his lips down on hers. The kiss was hot and brief, but it sent a shockwave of fire through her body.

"Because I promised," he replied in a low, growling voice. "And I always keep my promise."

Her heartbeat became faster, and her head cleared. "A promise to my dad?"

Dante's thumb brushed the side of her face as his gaze grew gloomy. "To my father."

The door flung open before Francesca could reply, and Vince barged in with a grimace on his face. "They're at the gate, Dante."

Dante grasped Francesca's wrist tightly before releasing it and backing away, his icy control mask sliding back into place. "Get the men ready. Nobody enters.” Vince nodded and, before turning and walking out the door, his gaze darted briefly to Francesca.

Dante returned his focus to Francesca. "You're heading up. Right now, to the East Wing.”

She reaffirmed her stance, her voice trembling from adrenaline, "I'm not going anywhere. If Lorenzo intends to use me as a pawn, like you said. I'll be exactly who he thinks I am if I'm hiding.”

Dante shook his head, a look of frustration, or perhaps fear, flashing in his eyes. "You're naive, Francesca.” “You don't know how dangerous he is."

"And you fail to realize that I am not scared of him," she shot back, drawing nearer to him. "Neither am I afraid of you."

With his gaze fixed on hers, Dante's jaw tightened. "Fear is not the issue here. Surviving is.”

"I've endured worse," she muttered, her tone firm and uncompromising. “You have no idea what it's like to be poor and hear negative comments from others your entire life. I refuse to feel inferior to some wealthy thug.”

Dante looked at her, his eyes briefly melting before they snapped back to their hardened state. “Francesca, you're strong. But strength does not stop bullets.”

The distinct sound of gunfire sounded outside before she could counter. Dante's eyes grew cold, and her heart shot up into her throat. He took her arm and drew her in the direction of the door without saying another word.

"I'm getting you out of here," he murmured with clenched teeth. The entrance doors blew inward, sending splinters of wood flying over the marble floor before they could get halfway down the hall. With their weapons out, a group of men dressed in black suits barged in, and Lorenzo was in the middle, grinning triumphantly and chillingly.

"All right," Lorenzo growled, fixing Dante with an expression of satisfaction. "I notice that you're still holding onto the belief that you can keep her safe."

Dante put himself in between Lorenzo and Francesca, his body a steel wall. "Lorenzo, don't you think your decision to come back is premature?"

Lorenzo grinned more broadly. "Do you think I'm here to bargain? You’re in no position to make demands, Dante.”

Francesca felt her heart thumping in her chest. The Rossi men dispersed across space, obstructing any possibility of escape. This was an execution, not a negotiation. Francesca spat out, "I'm not going anywhere with you," even though her hands were shaking.

Lorenzo turned to face her, and his eyes glistened. "Oh, Francesca, you're not understanding. I didn't come here to take you. I'm only here to watch.”

Her stomach fell. "To watch what?"

Lorenzo's grin deepened. “Watch Dante’s empire burn to the ground.”

Just then, there was an audible burst of gunshots outside, and then there was the distinct crackle of fire spreading. Francesca’s eyes grew wide with fear as the mansion started to smell like smoke. Not only were Lorenzo's men attacking, but they were also lighting the entire property on fire.

Calculating, Dante's gaze darted to the entrance, but there was nowhere to go. Now that Lorenzo's men had them surrounded, the mansion itself was turning into a death trap. Lorenzo gave Dante one more look before stepping back with a triumphant, icy smile. "Dante, I hope you're prepared to lose everything."

And with that, Dante and Francesca found themselves standing in the middle of a blazing universe as Lorenzo turned and vanished into the darkness. As Francesca saw the flames licking at the walls' borders and getting closer, her throat constricted. She trembled and muttered, "Dante."

Dante, though, was not observing the flames. His gaze was fixed on hers. "We're not done yet," he uttered in a steady, quiet voice that was brimming with passion. "Not by a long shot.