Chapter 77
Chapter 77
Elijah Vaughn.
Five days had passed since that brutal fight in the yard.
They had been difficult days. Even with Dante stretching my body while I slept, the pain still accompanied me every time I woke up.
On the third day, I finally managed to sit up without feeling like my body was going to break in half. On the fourth, I was able to stand, though still with difficulty. Today, marking five days, although the pain persists, I can move without feeling that each step is torture.
Dante has been my fortress.
He takes care of me with impeccable dedication, always attentive to every detail of my recovery.
He brings my meals, feeds me, applies ointments to my bruises, and gives me my medication at the right times.
His constant presence, his careful touch, and his attentive gaze make me feel safe, as if nothing in the world could harm me while he’s by my side.
At first, guilt consumed me.
I didn’t want to be a burden to him, didn’t want his life to revolve around taking care of me. But when I saw him smile and say he enjoyed it, that he took pleasure in caring for me, all the guilt dissolved.
In these five days, Dante has been the only person I’ve had contact with.
I haven’t seen Fox again, which made me curious, so I asked about him.
Dante didn’t like the question.
His gaze narrowed, his expression darkened, and his hand gripped my thigh firmly, but without hurting me.
“Why are you talking about another male in front of me, bunny p>
His voice carried a tone of jealousy.
And I couldn’t help but smile.
His possessiveness was intense, but instead of bothering me, it amused me.
Knowing that I’m so important to him that it triggers this kind of reaction makes me feel something strange, something I’m still trying to understand.
His protection over me has intensified in a frightening way. Before, it was already extreme, but now… now it’s as if he’s obsessed with my safety.
He doesn’t leave me alone for a single second. Whenever he leaves the cell, he locks the bars and ensures no one approaches. And yesterday, for the first time, I saw the prison director in person.
He came to speak with Dante, and even then, the conversation took place outside the cell because Dante refused to leave me unattended. I watched from the bed, feeling growing curiosity.
The director seemed to respect him, or perhaps fear him. I wanted to know what they talked about, but Dante didn’t tell me anything afterward.
And, to be honest, I don’t mind.
The days have become repetitive, but not in a bad way.
I’ve gotten used to waking up with his hands gently caressing me, helping me move, and helping me sit up.
I’ve gotten used to the sound of his low voice as he feeds me. Even to the weight of his body beside me as he lies down with me to keep me warm at night:
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His eyes are always watchful, his hands always present.
And I love it.
I don’t know when it happened, but Dante has become my anchor, my security.
His touch comforts me, his voice calms me, and his gaze makes me feel like I belong somewhere.
Even if that place is beside a dangerous man.
Even if that place is a prison.
When we had that conversation about Dante’s possible departure, I never imagined he would take me with him.
However, now, the idea of traveling by his side consumes me in a way never thought possible.
I’m eager for that day.
To leave here and see the world alongside the man who makes me feel things I never believed I could feel. During these days, I tried to ignore what was growing inside me and tried to tell myself it couldn’t be real.
But it is.
I love him.
And I won’t fight it anymore.
I won’t hold back anymore, won’t waste time trying to find justifications, or condemn myself for something that’s already engraved in my heart.
Even if they judge me, even if they abhor me, I’ll ignore everything and follow my heart.
Because my heart belongs to Dante.
And I don’t want it any other way.
And with each passing day, I fall even more in love with him.
Getting to know him beyond the mask of a cruel and ruthless leader has been fascinating.
Knowing what he likes to do, hearing his stories about the cartel, understanding his view of the world… All of this has only made me dive even deeper into this feeling.
It was funny when he mentioned that he follows some Asian recipes to stay young. I laughed so much that I even forgot the pain for a moment.
never imagined that the most feared man in this prison would care about that kind of thing. But, somehow, that peculiarity only made him more real to
Discovering that he’s forty years old was another shock. I would never have guessed. He doesn’t look anywhere near that age. There’s a vitality in him, such an intense and imposing presence, that makes him seem much younger.
The truth is, I’ve loved getting to know him.
Learning more about who he is beyond the monster everyone fears p>
And I want to keep discovering every part of Dante.
I want to see all his facets.
I want him to show me everything that makes him who he is.
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And more than anything… I want him to have me the same way 1 already have him inside me p>
The metallic clank of the cell doors jolted me from my thoughts. I blinked a few times, returning to reality just as Dante stepped into the cell, carrying two clean uniforms.
He stopped in front of me with a suggestive smile.
“Looking forward to a real shower, little bunny p>
My gaze drifted over the folded fabric in his arms before lowering to the uniform 1 was still wearing–the same one from the fight in the yard.
Dirty, torn … a constant reminder of what had happened there.
Thank God the bruises had faded, though some aches still lingered. But none of that mattered now.
After days of Dante cleaning me only on the surface, I was finally about to take a proper shower.
I smiled, a genuine rush of excitement rising in my chest.
“You have no idea, Dante. I want to soak my hair, feel the water running down my body. I’m ready. Can we go p>
He chuckled softly and stepped closer, handing me the clean uniforms.
“Of course.
Before I could respond, his arms wrapped around my body, lifting me off the mattress with ease.
“I can walk now, Dante. ”
Despite my words, I didn’t resist.
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