Under His Protection

Chapter 6: The Breaking Point

The aftermath of the attack left the Ricci estate in chaos. Men worked through the night to clean up the damage, and the air buzzed with tension. Everyone knew this wouldn't be the last attempt on Dante's life, but for now, they had survived—and Dante's mind was no longer just on the war with the Costas.

It was on Leo.

In the days that followed, Dante found himself watching Leo more closely than ever. Leo remained the perfect bodyguard—cold, calculating, and relentlessly protective—but the space between them was thick with unspoken words. The kiss they'd shared in the tunnels had changed everything, yet Leo seemed determined to pretend it hadn't happened.

Dante wasn't going to let him off that easily.

That evening, Dante called Leo to his private quarters. The mansion was quieter now, the immediate threat subsided, but Dante knew it was only a matter of time before the next strike came. They needed to be prepared. But more than that, Dante needed to know where Leo stood—not just as his protector, but as a man caught in the same tangled emotions.

Leo knocked once before entering, his face unreadable as always. He was still wearing his standard black suit, though the jacket was gone, leaving just the crisp white shirt beneath. He looked like he'd barely slept, the weight of his responsibilities etched in the lines of his face.

"You wanted to see me?" Leo asked, standing near the door, his posture rigid.

Dante sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed, eyes locked on Leo. "Close the door."

Leo hesitated for a moment but did as he was told, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. The room was dimly lit, the shadows from the fireplace flickering across the walls. Dante didn't move, watching as Leo took a step closer, though he kept his distance.

"We need to talk," Dante said, his voice low but firm.

Leo's jaw tightened, but he didn't speak. Dante knew he was bracing himself for what was coming—he'd been avoiding this conversation for days.

"You've been different since the attack," Dante continued, standing up and slowly crossing the room until he was standing inches from Leo. "And don't tell me it's nothing. I know you, Leo."

Leo's gaze flicked up to meet Dante's, his expression guarded. "I've been doing my job."

"Bullshit." Dante's voice sharpened. "We're way past that. You're not just doing your job anymore, and you know it."

Leo's eyes flashed, a mix of anger and frustration crossing his face. "What do you want me to say, Dante? That I crossed a line? That I lost control?"

Dante took a step closer, their faces now inches apart. "I don't want you to say anything. I want you to stop pretending like what happened between us didn't mean something."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The tension was unbearable, the silence filled with the weight of everything they hadn't said. Dante could see the battle raging in Leo's eyes—the push and pull between duty and desire.

"I can't do this," Leo finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're my boss."

"And you're my bodyguard," Dante shot back. "But that's not all we are anymore, and you know it."

Leo's fists clenched at his sides, and Dante could see the conflict in every tense line of his body. "I was hired to protect you, not—" He broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Not to what?" Dante pressed, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. "Not to care? Not to feel something more?"

Leo's breath hitched, his eyes flickering with something raw, something Dante had only caught glimpses of before. "This isn't right," Leo whispered. "I'm supposed to keep you safe, not—"

"Not what?" Dante asked again, stepping closer until they were chest to chest. "Not fall for me?"

Leo didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes. His breathing was shallow, and Dante could see the way his hands shook ever so slightly. Dante's pulse quickened, his heart pounding in his chest as he reached out, gently placing a hand on Leo's arm.

"I don't care about what's right or wrong," Dante said, his voice low. "I care about you. And I know you care about me too."

Leo's eyes snapped to Dante's. Dante saw it—the vulnerability, the longing, the struggle to keep everything bottled up.

"I'm not supposed to," Leo said, his voice rough, almost broken. "I'm not supposed to care like this."

"But you do," Dante whispered, his hand sliding up Leo's arm, resting on his chest where he could feel the rapid thudding of his heart. "And so do I."

Leo's resolve crumbled. In a sudden, desperate movement, he grabbed Dante by the collar, pulling him into a fierce, almost punishing kiss. It was rough, full of everything they'd both been holding back—anger, frustration, desire. Dante responded instantly, his hands tangling in Leo's hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until they were both gasping for breath.

The kiss was raw, intense, filled with the kind of passion that couldn't be denied. When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing hard, their foreheads resting against each other's, the weight of their feelings hanging heavy between them.

"I can't keep doing this," Leo whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I can't keep pretending like you don't mean something to me."

Dante's heart swelled, but he knew this was only the beginning. "Then don't," he said softly, his hand still resting on Leo's chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "We'll figure it out, Leo. You and me."

Leo didn't respond, but his eyes softened, the walls he'd built around himself finally beginning to crumble. Dante knew they still had a long way to go, that the dangers surrounding them weren't going to disappear just because they'd admitted their feelings. But for the first time, they were on the same page. They weren't just a boss and his bodyguard anymore. They were something more—something dangerous and uncertain, but something real.

And Dante wasn't going to let that go.