The music at Inferno was louder than usual, but Raven barely heard it.
Her body moved, twisted, seduced—but her mind was somewhere else entirely.
On the black envelope. The watermark. The Bratva.
And the voice in her ear just hours ago: "You're not here to gather intel anymore. You're here to kill him."
She spun on the pole with practiced grace, the lights casting heat across her bare thighs, the crowd screaming for more.
But all she saw was Dante.
Watching her from his usual corner.
Tonight, he wasn't drinking. Wasn't laughing.
He was staring.
Still.
Still.
Still.
And then he was gone.
Slipped into the darkness like smoke through fingers.
She knew where he'd gone.
And she knew what would come next.
🖤 Room 13 – Minutes LaterThe door was already open when she arrived.
Dante stood near the wall, jacket gone, sleeves rolled, veins sharp in his forearms. A lit cigarette hung between his fingers, untouched. Ash built at the end like time running out.
He didn't speak.
Not at first.
Just looked her over from head to toe like he was deciding whether to kiss her—or crush her.
"Lock the door," he said finally.
She obeyed without thinking.
As the lock clicked into place, he turned, eyes dark and unreadable.
"I need to know something," he said, voice low.
Her spine straightened.
"Are you mine, Raven?"
The question should have infuriated her.
It should have made her laugh.
But instead…
Her throat tightened.
"I don't belong to anyone."
He stepped forward.
"That's not what I asked."
She swallowed. "Why does it matter?"
"Because I'm two seconds away from turning this room into a confession box—and you don't want to know what I'll do if you lie."
Silence thickened between them like smoke.
Then, slowly, she reached up and unzipped her dress.
Let it fall to the floor.
"I'm standing here, aren't I?" she whispered.
It was the closest thing to a yes she could offer.
And it was enough.
🔥 What Followed Wasn't TenderHe pushed her back against the wall, hands greedy, mouth hungrier. His lips bruised hers, and still it wasn't enough.
He wanted more.
More of her body.
More of her breath.
More of her soul.
"You disobeyed me," he growled against her neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. "Didn't wear the necklace. Snuck around the staff wing. Spoke to people I didn't approve."
Her fingernails dug into his back. "You don't own me."
"I do now."
He spun her around, bent her over the table, hands gripping her hips like handles.
"Say it," he growled.
"No."
He spanked her once—hard.
She gasped.
"Say it," he repeated.
"I'm yours," she hissed, defiant.
He entered her in one hard thrust.
And everything blurred.
🖤 AfterThey lay tangled on the floor—no sheets, no bed, just the raw aftermath of lust and power and surrender.
She stared at the ceiling.
He stared at her.
"You looked terrified when I walked in tonight," he said.
She kept her gaze locked upward. "You scared me."
"I don't mean when I approached you. I mean before that. Onstage. You weren't focused."
She went still.
"I know what it looks like when someone's waiting for a bullet."
She turned slowly to face him.
"You think someone's going to shoot me in the middle of a lap dance?"
"I think you've already been marked."
Her heart twisted.
"By who?" she asked carefully.
Dante sat up, the muscles in his back flexing with tension.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "Because if they touch you, they'll die screaming."
Raven sat up too, the collar still tight around her throat. "You keep saying that like I'm yours to protect."
"You are."
"What if I don't want to be?"
He turned to her fully.
"Then I'll keep you anyway."
🥀 Back at Her ApartmentRaven showered quickly, scrubbing her skin until it burned. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't wash off the weight of what just happened.
She wasn't in control anymore.
Not of the mission. Not of Dante.
And definitely not of herself.
She dried off and pulled on an oversized hoodie. Poured herself a glass of water with trembling hands.
She needed to focus.
To breathe.
To think.
Her burner phone buzzed.
HAWK: Status?
RAVEN: He's watching me too closely.
HAWK: And yet you keep going back to him.
She stared at the message.
Then typed back slowly:
RAVEN: I need more time.
HAWK: You have three days. Then he dies. Or you do.
She threw the phone across the room.
🕯️ The Next Day – Inferno's Security OfficeDante leaned back in the chair, arms folded, eyes glued to the screen.
Room 13's security feed looped in front of him. The footage from the night before. The moment Raven walked in. The moment she undressed.
But it wasn't lust in his eyes.
It was calculation.
Obsession.
Doubt.
"She's hiding something," he murmured.
A man beside him—Luca, one of his most trusted lieutenants—nodded.
"You want us to tail her again?"
"No," Dante said. "She'll see it coming."
"You want her phone?"
"She has two. One she hides in the baseboard under her dresser."
Luca raised an eyebrow. "You've had her apartment bugged?"
"I've had her life bugged."
Luca hesitated. "You still want her dead if she's working against us?"
Dante stared at the frozen frame of her naked body on the screen.
"No," he said softly. "But I'll bury her anyway."
🩸 That Night – The Back RoomRaven wasn't scheduled to perform.
But she came anyway.
Needed to see him.
Needed to see if he knew.
Dante was in the private lounge with two Russian men she didn't recognize. Broad shoulders. Gold rings. Thick accents.
Bratva.
She kept her distance but watched carefully as they handed him a sealed manila folder.
His eyes never left the envelope.
And then—he looked up.
Right at her.
Their eyes locked.
He didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
Just smiled.
And in that moment, she knew.
He had the file.
He knew everything.
And he was waiting to see what she'd do next.