The Dangerous Lover or The Mafia's Boyfriend

‎Dante didn't leave.

‎Elijah wasn't sure whether that pissed him off or thrilled him.

‎The mafia boss had made himself very comfortable in Elijah's penthouse, occupying space like he belonged there. He stood near the bar, pouring himself another glass of whiskey as if this were his home.

‎Elijah exhaled sharply, loosening his tie as he sat on the couch. "So, what's your plan, Moretti? Lurk in my apartment until I give in to whatever delusion you have about owning me?"

‎Dante chuckled, unbothered. "I told you, tesoro, you don't have a choice. Romano put a hit on you, which means you're under my protection." He took a slow sip of his drink, watching Elijah with dark amusement. "Unless you'd rather take your chances?"

‎Elijah leaned back, his smirk sharp. "You really think I'm afraid of some mafia thug?"

‎Dante's eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "No." He set his glass down and stalked forward, the air shifting between them. "I think you like playing with danger."

‎Elijah didn't move as Dante closed the space between them, stopping just short of pressing their bodies together. The heat, the tension, it was suffocating.

‎Elijah arched a brow. "And you think you are dangerous?"

‎Dante smirked. "Oh, I know I am."

‎For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The unspoken challenge crackled between them, electric and undeniable. Dante's gaze dropped, just for a second, to Elijah's lips.

‎Elijah noticed.

‎And instead of pulling away, he tilted his chin slightly, his own smirk deepening. "You're standing awfully close, Moretti."

‎Dante chuckled, voice low. "And you haven't told me to move."

‎Elijah should have. He should have shoved Dante back, should have drawn a line between them.

‎But instead, he let the silence stretch.

‎Dante exhaled a quiet laugh, his fingers grazing the edge of Elijah's sleeve, just barely there; a test, a tease. "Careful, tesoro." His voice dropped, dark and full of promise. "Keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you want something from me."

‎Elijah's pulse kicked up, but he refused to give Dante the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, he leaned in just enough to let his breath ghost against Dante's jaw.

‎"You're so sure of yourself, aren't you?" Elijah murmured.

‎Dante's smirk widened. "I have every reason to be."

‎Elijah exhaled sharply, then just to be difficult reached up and straightened Dante's already-perfect collar, his fingers brushing against warm skin for the briefest second.

‎Dante's eyes darkened, his breath hitching just slightly before he let out a slow, quiet chuckle.

‎"Oh, tesoro," he murmured. "I am going to ruin you."

‎Elijah's smirk was all challenge. "We'll see who ruins who."

‎Dante's fingers curled around Elijah's wrist, holding him in place, the grip firm but teasing. "I love that you think you have a chance."

‎Elijah tilted his head, watching him closely. "And I love that you think you're in control."

‎The tension snapped.

‎Dante moved first; swift, decisive. One moment they were trading words, the next, Elijah was pressed against the couch, Dante's weight caging him in.

‎The heat between them was intoxicating.

‎Elijah barely had a second to react before Dante's lips ghosted against his jaw, just barely there, a warning and a taunt all at once.

‎"Last chance," Dante murmured. "Tell me to stop."

‎Elijah's fingers curled into Dante's shirt, his smirk slow and sinful.

‎"I never back down from a fight, Moretti."

‎Dante growled low in his throat, and then....

‎The first gunshot shattered the moment.

‎Both men snapped to attention, instincts kicking in immediately.

‎Dante pulled his gun in a flash, moving swiftly as he yanked Elijah down, shielding him without hesitation.

‎Elijah cursed, adrenaline spiking. "Is that..."

‎"Romano's men," Dante muttered, eyes cold and sharp. "Looks like we don't have time to play anymore, tesoro."

‎Elijah exhaled sharply, heart pounding not from fear.

‎But from the realization that he might actually like this game.

‎And worse?

‎So did Dante.