Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary on Fifth Avenue
Dante took Emma straight to his private residence—a sprawling, secure penthouse overlooking Central Park.
A top private orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Aris, was already waiting inside with a mobile medical team. Within an hour, Emma’s arm was set, casted, and stabilized, and she was tucked into a plush, king-sized bed wrapped in silk sheets.
Dante sat in a leather armchair beside the bed, holding a warm cup of tea, watching her sleep as the morning sun began to break through the dark New York clouds.
When Emma stirred, her eyes fluttered open, taking in the grand, quiet room. She looked at her casted arm, then at Dante sitting quietly in the corner.
“You... you brought me to your home,” she whispered softly.
“Where else would I take you?” Dante asked, setting his cup down and walking over to sit on the edge of the mattress. “The hospital would have asked questions you weren't ready to answer. Here, you are safe.”
Emma looked down at the soft duvet, her lower lip trembling. “I didn't know who else to call, Dante. He took my money... he broke my phone... he said no one would ever help me because I was just a waitress.”
Dante reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“You are not just a waitress, Emma,” Dante said with quiet, absolute conviction. “And Marcus was wrong. The moment you called me, your troubles became my troubles.”
Emma looked into his sharp, handsome face, sensing the dangerous power that radiated from him, yet feeling more protected than she had ever felt in her entire life.
“Why are you doing this for me?” she asked softly. “You don't even know me.”
“Six months ago, I saw a woman who was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders,” Dante replied, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “I’ve spent fifteen years trying to clean my family’s name, build legitimate businesses, and walk away from violence. But standing in your apartment last night... I realized some men only understand one language. And I happen to speak it fluently.”
May you like
A soft, hesitant smile broke across Emma’s pale face. “Thank you, Dante.”
“Rest, Emma,” Dante said gently, standing up. “From today on, no one touches you. That is a Moretti promise.”
