Mafia secrets

The leather jacket hangs off her shoulders like armor as she watches him pace. He’s restless tonight — sharper, unsettled — and she knows this isn’t just one of his late-night calls or bloody knuckles. This is different.

“Devil,” she says softly, “you’re burning holes in the floor. Just tell me.”

For once, he doesn’t smirk, doesn’t tease. He drags both hands through his hair, jaw clenched. “My father… he set up an engagement. With a woman named Scarlett.”

The words land like knives. For a second, she thinks he’s ending it — that she’s about to lose the man she’s spent years loving, waiting for, hoping would someday see her the same way. She’d never pushed, never asked for more than he was ready to give. Because deep down, she thought maybe he wouldn’t want her like that.

But then he looks at her — wolf-sharp eyes raw, desperate — and everything shifts.

“I told him no,” Dante says, voice low but fierce. “I told him I already made my choice. That it’s you, Vixen. Only you.”

She exhales, shaky, torn between relief and confusion. “But… why would your father even—” She stops, frowning as the pieces finally click. The shadows, the late-night calls, the bruised knuckles, the money he never explained.

Her voice sharpens. “Dante… who the hell is your father?”

Silence stretches. He looks away, shoulders tense like a wolf cornered. This is the secret he’s kept buried, the one he thought he could protect her from forever.

Finally, he meets her eyes again. No charm, no dodge. Just the raw truth.

“He runs the empire. Mafia. I was supposed to inherit it all.” His hand grips the counter hard enough to creak. “That’s what the arrangement was for. But I don’t give a damn about legacy. I don’t want Scarlett. I don’t want the throne. I want you.”

Her pulse spikes, a war between fury and heartbreak. “So all this time… you’ve been lying to me?”

“Not lying,” he growls, stepping closer, voice sharp, protective. “Hiding it. Because if you knew, you’d be a target. And because the second you looked at me with fear instead of fire, I’d fucking break.”

The confession hangs heavy in the air. The jacket slips off her shoulder as she stares at him, tears burning.

She’d been dying for the day he’d be ready — for the day he’d claim her out loud, without hesitation. And now here it was, tangled in bloodlines and mafia ties.

Her voice cracks but doesn’t waver. “Devil… you should’ve known better. I don’t fear you. I chose you. Always will.”

For the first time, the weight lifts from his chest. He pulls her into him, anchoring her with the jacket, with his kiss, with everything he was terrified of losing.

The mafia is out of the shadows now. The choice is made. And this time, it’s theirs.