Dante: A Dark Mafia Romance Novel

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐌𝐄𝐈-𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

A/N: Well, if you've made it here, this story must be goooood *cue happy dance*. No, but honestly, thanks for reading this far. Even knowing one person out there loves my writing makes me so happy, so I love you so much guys! Anyway, meet Mei, my babe, my literal fave, my inspiration (kidding, but not kidding.) I hope you guys love her and her sarcastic streak as much as I do! ❤️ Don't forget to vote and comment, I'll remind you down below too, no worries! 🤭

The warmth of the water cascading over my skin was a sensation I relished every morning. The shower was my sanctuary, a place where I could lose myself in the embrace of water, the element I loved above all others. As the steam enveloped me, I closed my eyes, letting the gentle spray wash away the remnants of sleep and invigorate my senses. I tilted my head back, allowing the water to cascade over my face, I traced my fingers along the slick tiles, feeling the cool smoothness beneath my touch, a contrast to the warmth that enveloped me.

With a contented sigh, I turned to face the spray, letting it massage my shoulders and cascade down my back in a soothing rhythm. The sensation was pure bliss, a symphony of sensation that reverberated through every fiber of my being. Water had always been my solace, my refuge from the chaos of the world, and in this moment, it was all I needed.

Reluctantly, I turned off the faucet, the sound of silence replacing the steady drumming of water against tile. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a plush towel, the soft fabric a comforting embrace against my damp skin. As I combed through my hair, I heard a soft knock at the door.

"Enter," I called out, my voice calm and composed.

The door swung open, and my second-in-command stepped inside, his gaze flickering briefly over my towel-clad form before returning to meet my eyes. I could sense the subtle shift in his demeanour.

"Forgive me ma'am." he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Speak." I demanded.

"I apologise for the interruption, Boss," he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of nervousness. "But your father wishes to see you, now."

My frustration simmered beneath the surface, but I kept my expression neutral. The last thing I wanted was to allow my employees to see me lose control. "Tell Toshiko that I will see him at my earliest convenience, not his."

He nodded, a look of relief passing over his features. "Yes, Boss. Right away."

As he turned to leave, I couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of desire that he quickly concealed beneath a mask of professionalism.

"Is there anything else?" I asked, my tone brisk

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting away before returning to meet mine. "Actually, Boss, there is. Is this truly what you wish to do?"

My frustration flared into anger at the question, but I forced myself to remain composed. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I am the boss, and my word is law. There is no room for second-guessing insubordination or questioning of my authority, have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, then I suggest you take whatever motivated you to question my authority and lock it up deeply because the next time you question my decision making, you shall find yourself strung up by your balls as I beat the ever-living shit out of you. Understood?" I snapped harshly.

"Yes ma'am." With those final words, he turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

With my second-in-command now out of the room, an icy sense of quiet determination settled over me. I had made my stance clear, and now it was time to focus on the task at hand.

Entering my bedroom, I took a moment to collect myself. My gaze fell to my left hand, where it settled on my ring finger. The possibility of a permanent ring, a symbol of bound ship and servitude, loomed large in my thoughts and I cringed internally, shaking the thought away.

I shook off the uncertainty, pushing it aside as I focused on the task at hand. There were decisions to be made, plans to be put into motion. Whatever the future held, I would face it head-on, with the strength and resilience that made me the woman I am today.

I proceeded to get ready, slipping into a white suit and adding a touch of makeup before completing my look with designer heels, jewellery, and a spritz of expensive perfume.

As I made my way from my bedroom into the spacious open-plan living area of my London townhome, I couldn't help but notice Scar, my head deputy, standing at the front door. His posture was rigid, hands clasped behind his back, resembling more of a secret service agent than my trusted underboss.

Why Scar? His name was a reflection of the prominent mark that stretched from his left eyebrow to the corner of his mouth, a silent testament to a past I knew all too well.

"Your car is outside waiting ma'am." I nodded before dropping my gaze down to my phone where I was texting instructions to my pilot to pass onto my plane staff.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙ please don't forget to vote and comment if you love it. Engaging with me through comments will help me craft the story in the direction you'd all like to see it!