The Mafia Prince's obsession (MM)

Dante

I've barely stepped into my office before Alessandra is on me. His sharp eyes pinned me the second I came into his view, his expression a mixture of frustration and something close to disbelief.

"We need to talk," he says, his voice low but firm.

I sigh, shrugging off my jacket. "Do we?"

"Yes, we do." He doesn't wait for my agreement before badging into my office and locking the door. I put my laptop bag on the table, then I turn around, lean on the table, and give him my full attention, and I think I already have an idea what this is about.

"Are you out of your fucken mind?"

I arche a brow, feigning boredom. "You're going to have to be more specific."

He scoffs, crossing his arms. "Don't play dumb, Dante. I saw you. At the restaurant. With him. "

My jaw tightens slightly, but I keep my expression neutral. "And?"

"And?! You can't be doing this!" He hiss. "Do you even realize how reckless you're being? People Will start talking."

I fold my arms. "Oh, so now you're following me?"

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. " I wasn't following you, Dante. I just happened to be there. And thank God it was me who saw you because if it had been anyone else, this would've already gotten to Father."

I  take a long exhale, annoyance creeping in. "You act like I don't know how to be discreet."

"Discreet?" He let's out a humorless laugh. "Dante, you were out in the open with him! Do you understand what you're risking? You're –" he stops, inhaling deeply before speaking again. " Look. If you're going to do this, you better be careful. Because if Father finds out–"

"I know." My voice comes out sharper than intended.

He studies me for a moment, his gaze unwavering. "Are you willing to risk it?"

I hold his stare, my resolve settling in my chest.

"Elijah is mine."

His expression doesn't change, but I can tell he's reading between the lines.

After a long silence, he shakes his head. "Well, don't be stupid about it."

I smirk. "No promises."

Alessandra rubs his temple, clearly frustrated. Then, as if something just clicked in his mind, he narrows his eyes at me.

"You know, " he starts slowly, " last time I checked, you were straight." His voice is careful, but there is an edge to it.

I clench my jaw. I knew this was coming.

"So tell me, when the fuck did that change?"

I let out a breath, dragging a hand down my face. " I don't even know."

"That's not an answer."

I push off the desk, pacing. "It's just—him. It's like he gets under my skin, and no matter what I do, I can't shake him off. When he's in my presence, I can't see anything else but him. Everything else completely disappears."

He watches me carefully. "Well, that sounds like a problem."

I let out a dry laugh. "Tell me about it."

He sighs, rubbing his face. "Then you better be careful. If anyone else sees you together, it could cause havoc." He looks at me seriously now. "Are you ready for that kind of war?"

I meet his gaze head-on. "I don't give a damn about war." I exhale, steadying my voice. "But I'll be damned if I let anyone take him from me."

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