Dante’s POV
I never planned to care.
She was supposed to be just a tool. A federal agent I would dismantle piece by piece—use her body, mine her secrets, then discard what remained when she stopped being useful. That was the plan. Clean. Merciless. Familiar.
But plans have a way of rotting when you let someone sleep in your bed night after night.
The first time I noticed the change was small, almost innocent. I had caught myself watching her while she was sleeping.
She was still chained to the wrought iron headboard. Her wrists were raw from the padded cuffs that I had changed into because the metal one that was holding her before were already leaving some bruises on her that I did not like seeing. Her breathing was really slow. Measured.
Each inhale lifted her breasts just enough to
