Sienna
They dragged me into his study like I was already dead.
Two men held my arms so tight I could feel the bruises forming. The door shut behind us with a heavy click.
Dante Moretti sat behind a massive desk, sleeves rolled up, a glass of whiskey in one hand like this was just another Tuesday night for him.
He didn’t look up right away. Just kept reading whatever paper was in front of him.
“Let me go,” I screamed. My voice came out steadier than I expected.
One of the men tightened his grip. Dante finally raised his eyes. The kind of stare that made people disappear.
“Leave us,” he ordered.
The men let go and walked out without a word.
The door locked again.
I stayed on my feet, arms crossed, heart slamming against my ribs.
“Your father stole from me,” Dante said, voice lo
