The Mafia Prince's obsession (MM)

Dante

Chaos has erupted like a grenade in the middle of celebration.

Guards are shouting commands, moving swiftly in and out of the estate. Guests are being ushered out discreetly. Servants are running around like ants, whispering theories. Someone drops a tray and glass shatters.

Mr. Vega's voice thunders above the noise.

"I want every guard searching! No one sleeps until she's found! Bring my daughter back before dawn, or don't bother showing your face again!"

Across the room, my father is seething. His jaw is tight, lips pressed into a pale line, ayes burning. He doesn't yell. Roman Markov doesn't need to. His rage is silent—and that is far more dangerous.

I stand in the middle of it all. The storm circling around me, but I remain calm. Centered. Focused.

This is no longer about Maya.

This is about what comes next.

I step forward, brushing past the flustered guards and stunned family members, my eyes lock on Mr.Vega. My target.

"Mr.Vega. We need to speak." My voice cuts through the chaos.

Gabriel instantly moves, falling in step beside me. " I'm coming with you."

I don't even look at him. "Alone Mr.Vega."

Gabriel tries to protest. "You can't just—"

"Gabriel," Mr. Vega cuts in sharply. "It's fine. I'll speak to him."

"But father—"

"I said it's fine." Firmer this time. Final.

Gabriel steps back, though his eyes Blaze with suspicion.

We walk in silence down the marble hall, past trembling servants and tense guards, until we reach the grand office. The door closes behind us with a dull thud, shutting out the rest of the world.

The moment it did, I turn, cold fire in my eyes.

"Your daughter humiliated me today."

Mr.Vega raises a brow. "She ran away. Not exactly something she cleared with me either."

"And yet it still reflects on me. On the Markov family. On our contract."
My voice is even, buy every word is sharp as a blade. "I was supposed to get married today. Instead, I was left standing at the altar like a fool."

I let that hang in the air, watching Killian closely. Pressing him.

"I am Dante Markov. No one disrespects me like that and walks away untouched."

His jaw flex. He turns abruptly and slams a crystal decanter against the wall, shattering it.

"My daughter is missing!" He roars. "That is my priority right now,  not your goddamn ego!"

I don't flinch.

"Correction, " I say coldly. "Your daughter isn't missing, Vega. She ran away. And you need to take responsibility for that."

Silence.

Then: "Elon" He mutters, pacing. "I'll give you Elon instead. My other daughter."

I tilt my head, lips curling. "No"

He narrows his eyes. "What do you mean, 'no'? I only have two daughters —"

"Your son," I say calmly. "I want your son."

A pause.

Then his face twists.

"My son?" His voice drops, nearly a growl.

My eyes gleam.

"Elijah. I want Elijah."

"What?!" He roars, slamming his palm on the desk. "Have you lost your damn mind?!"

I don't blink.

"That's the only way you can fix this, Mr.Vega.

He stalks to the liquor cabinet, yanks open a bottle of whiskey, and pours himself a glass with shaking hands. He downs it in one gulp. The silence crackles between us.

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing. Thinking. Calculating.

Finally, he turns, eyes glassy with rage—and surrender.

"Fine," he spats. "But you better take care of my son, Dante. If anything happens to Elijah–anything–I swear to God, I'll kill you."

I smile, slow and cold.

"Don't worry, Vega. I'll guard him with my life."

He narrows his eyes. " And your father? Will he agree to this madness?"

I turn and walk towards the door.

"Don't worry about father," I pause at the threshold, glancing over my shoulder. "I'll take care of him."

A beat of silence.

Then, casually, like ordering a suit to be pressed.

"Now get your son ready. "