Bound By Obsession

alley outside Club Inferno pulsed with the low thrum of music, a reminder of the underworld that thrived beneath the city's surface. This was Dante Moretti's domain

ilence. Deep. Lethal. Intrigued. "You've been watching me, little journalist." Aria stiffened as Dante Moretti stepped into view. She had seen his photos, watched his movements from the shadows. But nothing had prepared her for the real thing. He was tall, dressed in a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing tattoos that marked his lineage-a king's insignia written in blood and ink. Sharp jaw. Piercing eyes. A predator's grace. Aria swallowed the rising hatred in her throat. She wouldn't let him see fear. "Let me go," she said, her voice steady. Dante smirked. "You walked into my world thinking you could leave on your own terms?" He leaned against the desk, his fingers brushing over a glass of whiskey. "Tell me, Aria... What exactly were you hoping to find?" She didn't flinch at the way he said her name. "I was doing my job." He chuckled, dark and amused. "Your job is to lie, twist stories, dig into things that don't concern you." His gaze turned sharp. "But this isn't just about journalism, is it?" Her pulse pounded. He knew. He didn't have the full story yet, but he suspected. Dante moved closer, his presence suffocating. "Tell me, Aria... what are you really after?" She met his gaze head-on. Challenge for challenge. Fire for fire. "The truth." His smirk faded. "Truth is dangerous in my world." "That's why people like me exist," she shot back. Dante studied her for a long moment. Then he leaned in, so close that she caught the faint scent of his cologne-wood, spice, and danger. "You want the truth?" His voice was low, almost gentle. "Then you'll stay until you find it." Aria's stomach dropped. Dante Moretti had just bound her to his world. And sh