Chapter 2 The Game Begins

Ariana's heart pounded in her chest as Dante Rossi opened the door. She stood frozen for a moment, her mind racing, trying to make sense of the situation she had just walked into. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm, calm on the surface but brewing with danger beneath.

Dante stepped aside, allowing her to enter the room. The space was lavish, decorated in rich tones of deep red and gold, with a large window overlooking the darkened city below. The atmosphere felt heavy, like something was about to shift, something beyond her control.

"Come in," he said, his voice as smooth as silk, but there was no mistaking the edge to it. "We have much to discuss."

Ariana hesitated. Every instinct screamed at her to turn and run. To escape before she got any deeper into whatever game Dante had set in motion. But she couldn't. Not with Lucas's safety hanging in the balance.

She stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Her pulse hammered in her ears as she glanced around, her eyes lingering on a few pieces of expensive-looking art on the walls, the plush furniture that suggested wealth and power. She had seen rooms like this before, but never under circumstances like these.

Dante closed the door behind her, the sound of it echoing in the silence. He moved with a predator's grace, his every step measured and deliberate. "I trust you're comfortable, Ms. Steele?"

Ariana didn't answer immediately, studying him carefully. He was the picture of control-his suit impeccable, his expression unreadable, but his eyes? They were another story. They flickered with something darker, something dangerous.

"I assume you didn't bring me here just for pleasantries," she said, keeping her tone cool, even though every part of her was on edge.

"Straight to the point," Dante mused, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "I like that."

Ariana's gaze flicked to the sleek bar against the far wall, the bottle of whiskey sitting on the top of it like a promise of something lethal. She could smell the alcohol in the air, its scent mingling with the rich leather and expensive wood.

"I need your help," Dante continued, leaning against the bar as though they were old acquaintances. "A simple financial transaction, nothing complicated. You'll be paid well for your time and your expertise."

She took a breath, resisting the urge to tell him to go to hell. There was too much at stake now, too much she didn't understand.

"What kind of transaction?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest.

Dante's gaze held hers, and for a moment, it was as if the room had shrunk around them. "I need you to help me launder a substantial amount of money. You have the skills, the experience. The money needs to be clean, and quickly. It's a matter of life and death."

Ariana's breath caught in her throat. She had worked with some shady clients before, but this... This was a whole different level of dangerous. "I don't do that," she said, trying to remain calm. "I'm not a criminal."

"You're not a criminal," Dante said, his voice soft but insistent. "You're a businesswoman. And in this world, business and crime often go hand in hand."

The words hit her like a slap, and for the briefest moment, her father's face flashed before her eyes-his cold, calculating nature, the way he'd handled his own deals. Had she inherited his ties to this world without even realizing it?

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thought. "I'm not interested in your money," she said firmly. "And I'm certainly not going to risk my career for a mafia family."

Dante's expression remained unchanged, but his eyes darkened. "You will help me, Ariana. Whether you like it or not."

Ariana's mind raced. She had no way out, not without putting Lucas in danger. She wasn't stupid enough to think she had a choice.

"I don't know what you think you're dealing with, but I'm not afraid of you," she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. She clenched her fists at her sides, the fight in her rising to the surface.

Dante's lips curled into a smile. It was almost too perfect. "I didn't think you were. But you should be. Not because of me, but because of what's out there."

He walked toward her slowly, his presence overwhelming as he stopped mere inches away. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension that hung thick in the air.

"Your father's death wasn't a coincidence," he murmured, his voice low. "And your brother isn't as safe as you think he is."

Her breath caught in her throat. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, her eyes widening.

"The Rossi family," Dante continued, his gaze intense. "We don't forget our debts. And your father owed us a great deal."

Ariana's world tilted on its axis. The truth she had spent years avoiding was staring her in the face. Her father's dealings with the Rossi family had been far deeper and more dangerous than she could have ever imagined. And now, she was caught in the middle.

"I'll help you," she said, her voice tight with reluctance. "But I want my brother left out of this. He's not involved."

Dante tilted his head slightly, studying her with an unreadable expression. "We'll see," he said softly. "We'll see."