The Godfather's Love Buried in Snow Chapter 2

His steps faltered, hesitating between morality and desire. "I'll take you back first."

Dante leaned back in the driver's seat and lit a cigar.

I watched the shadows of the trees pass by the window and said coldly, "Stop the car. I need to buy water."

I spent ten minutes in the gas station convenience store.

When I came back, I saw Bianca standing by the car. She was wrapping a cashmere scarf around Dante's neck.

"I was waiting for you in the car, and I saw you rubbing your hands. Is your old injury hurting again?"

Her voice was soft, dripping with deliberate charm.

"I knitted this scarf just for you. The weather forecast said it would be windy tonight."

Dante didn't refuse.

He let her tie it. He even reached up to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. His movement was natural, like he was handling a rare treasure.

The scene exploded in my brain like a grenade.

I turned and walked back toward the warehouse. My high heels clicked on the concrete, sounding as frantic as my heartbeat.

Just as I touched the cold barrel of a gun inside the warehouse, my phone rang.

It was Dante.

I didn't answer. I let it ring until it went to voicemail.

Not long after, the iron door of the warehouse was pushed open.

Dante walked in, frowning deeply. It was the look of a man used to control who was now annoyed by chaos.

"Why didn't you answer the phone?"

I played with the Colt Python revolver in my hand, my voice flat. "Dante, let's go back."

His eyes darkened. He caught my mood immediately.

"Is it because of Bianca?"

"Yes."

I looked up at him, my gaze sharp as a knife. "Is that a problem?"

He avoided my eyes. His tone softened, but it carried the usual male dismissiveness.

"It's not safe to drive on these mountain roads at night. I booked a room at a nearby motel."

"I want to leave now."

I holstered the gun, my movements crisp. The last bit of hope in my heart snapped.

He got angry. He kicked an ammo box next to him.

"Fine! Let's go!"

He efficiently loaded the illegal modified weapons into the trunk. He didn't say another word to me. It was a cold war.

Just as we drove out of the secluded mountain road, we saw a group of men blocking the intersection.

It was a rival gang.

They held baseball bats, machetes, and a few submachine guns.

The tattooed leader stared at Bianca in the other car and laughed vulgarly.

"Yo, isn't this the little Rossi prince? Hand over the blonde, and we'll let you go."

Bianca hid behind Dante, her eyes red and tearing up. She looked like a frightened deer.

"Dante, I'm scared. They look like the guys from the kidnapping last time."

The next second, Dante shoved his car door open. He cocked his gun instantly.

"Anyone who touches her dies."

He stood in front of Bianca, his tone vicious, smelling of blood.

"She's my woman. You dare touch her?"

In the chaos of gunfire, he protected Bianca and got her into the other bulletproof vehicle.

He left me with a careless sentence: "Drive yourself back."

Then he sped away.

I stood alone on the roadside, surrounded by the smell of gunpowder and burning rubber. I watched his taillights vanish into the night.

After a long time, I took the CheyTac M200 out of my car.

I rested it on the hood and pulled the trigger at a distant road sign.

The gunshot was deafening in the silent night, but it couldn't drown out the tearing pain in my heart.

"Mafia Godfather fights rival gang to protect mistress! Ferrari-Rossi alliance in danger!"

The headline hit the front page of the New York Post.

Donna Rosa smashed her iPad onto the marble table. The sound echoed through the mansion.

"Is Dante insane?!"

Dante stood in the center of the living room. His Armani suit was still dusty.

"I have the PR team handling it. All the news will disappear by tomorrow morning."

"Do I care about the paparazzi?"

Donna Rosa pointed at me, her voice trembling with fear for the family's future.

"Elena controls half the smuggling routes in Southeast Asia. You left her alone in that hellhole? If anything happened to her, do we still want to do business? Do you want the Russians to laugh at us?"

Dante finally looked at me. His Adam's apple moved, as if he wanted to say something.

But he didn't.

I acted like I didn't see him. I flipped through the ledger of shipping routes in my hand—the lifeline of the black market.

My phone buzzed. A new leak popped up.

"Dante Rossi and Bianca Miller: Childhood sweethearts, once guarded an armory together. Deep love."

The photo was an old one of them. I had seen this photo before, hidden in a notebook in his private safe.

On the back, he had written in Italian: Rainforest encounter, my Muse.

In the photo, Bianca was wearing Dante's pilot jacket, leaning into his arms, smiling brightly.

The tenderness in Dante's eyes was something I had never seen directed at me. That was the look of a man looking at his beloved.

I suddenly felt ridiculous. Like I had drunk expired whiskey.

I had bet the entire Ferrari family's network on a "I'll protect you," only to get a cold business marriage in return.

I didn't listen to the mother and son arguing anymore. I turned and went into the study.

It wasn't until late at night that Dante pushed the door open. He smelled of shower gel.

I ignored him. I was checking the latest arms manifest on my computer.

Suddenly, an exclusive interview with Bianca popped up on the screen.

She was wearing a sharp black business suit, looking provocative at the camera. She looked like a victor.

"True feelings shouldn't be bound by family interests. Even living on the edge of a knife, you should be with the one you love. That's the rule of survival in our world, isn't it?"

Dante reached out to close the laptop.

I gently held his hand down. My fingertips were ice cold.

"Miss Miller makes a lot of sense."

"I'll handle the news. That reporter won't live to see tomorrow," he said, his tone grim.

"What about the person you left behind?"

I looked up at him. My eyes had no warmth. "How do you plan to handle me?"

He avoided my gaze. "Bianca didn't mean it. The rival gang showed up out of nowhere. She hasn't been trained. She would have broken down."

"Because she didn't mean it, I had to face danger alone? I deserved to be left behind?"

I chuckled lightly, but the smile didn't reach my eyes.

"It seems in your heart, the life of the Ferrari heiress isn't worth as much as your mistress saying 'I'm scared.'"

Dante's face darkened. "Elena, don't push it."

Looking at his impatient eyes, I suddenly felt tired. This endless arguing exhausted me.

"Tomorrow I'll send over the route ledgers. Sign the divorce papers quickly. Don't make it hard for the lawyers."