His Discarded Canary Is Now The Boss

After breaking up with the ruthless Don of New York, I booked a cheap motel room in Las Vegas.

I accidentally sent the confirmation text to his number.

He quickly sent me a message.

"He only takes you to a 50-a-night room? Drop him. I never put you in a suite under 20,000."

I didn't reply.

That very night, the heavy door of my motel room was kicked open.

The lethal apex predator, who controlled a massive criminal empire thousands of miles away, suddenly appeared in front of me.

Pinned tightly against the stained sheets, I was completely defenseless against his brutal, punishing passion.

Just as I completely fell apart, he bit down hard on my earlobe, his voice dripping with sadistic mockery.

"Elena, what if your new civilian boyfriend walks in on us right now?"

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, not making a single sound.

When the storm finally passed and the dark lust faded from his eyes, I gathered all my shattered courage.

We spoke at the exact same time.

"I didn't find anyone else. Let's get back-" I spoke with a trembling voice, carrying desperate hope.

"Shut up." He reached for the ringing phone on the nightstand. "My companion is checking up on me."

Chapter 1

Elena POV

The moment his words fell, I froze completely.

Dante got out of bed effortlessly and answered the ringing phone.

Soon, a woman's low, sultry voice drifted through the speaker, laced with a dangerous edge.

"Dante," she murmured. "My men said you flew to Vegas in the middle of the night. Are you invading my territory, or just messing around with some local trash?"

Dante didn't avoid me. He lit a cigarette, his deep, pitch-black eyes locking onto my naked body on the bed.

Through the curling smoke, he let out a low, arrogant chuckle.

"Sorry, Valentina," he murmured, his voice rough and completely devoid of guilt. "I just finished a breakup fuck with my former pet. The room is a total mess. Are you sure you want me to turn on the camera?"

The woman on the other end briefly fell silent.

Dante was just this kind of man; he never hid his ruthless nature.

His cruelty was always on full display-you either accepted it, or you were destroyed by it.

The woman quickly recovered, her tone softening with a predatory purr. "Then when are you coming to Chicago, Dante? The bed is getting cold."

"I will see you tomorrow," Dante promised casually. "I already ordered my men to deliver that latest designer collection to your estate."

Lying on the stained sheets, I felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured directly over my head.

He had a new woman.

And he had just reduced our violent, passionate night to a mere "breakup fuck."

The blinding motel lights stung my eyes, making them burn with unshed tears.

A month ago, Dante and I had a massive fight.

In a fit of anger, I brought up breaking up with him.

He didn't try to coax me.

He simply asked, "Have you thought this through?"

I nodded.

For the past thirty days, I had drowned myself in endless casino ledgers, desperately trying to numb the agonizing withdrawal of losing him.

But in the dead of night, the memories of his dark, protective embrace would suffocate me.

Yesterday, after weeks of insomnia, I finally caved.

I booked this cheap Vegas motel and deliberately "accidentally" sent the confirmation text to his private number.

To make him think I was getting a room with another man.

When he actually kicked down my door, a foolish spark of hope had ignited in my chest.

I thought he still cared about me.

Instead, he told me he had a new companion.

Dante hung up the phone and casually tossed it onto the nightstand.

He walked back to the bed, his muscular torso covered in faded scars from a lifetime of underworld violence.

Without a word, he effortlessly scooped my limp body into his arms and carried me into the cramped bathroom.

He turned on the shower.

The warm water cascaded down my skin, but it couldn't thaw the absolute ice in my veins.

He gently rubbed the soap across my back.

His calloused hands carried a deceptively tender touch, as if handling a fragile piece of glass art.

The stark contrast between his gentle touch and his brutal words tore my heart to shreds.

"Did you really get a new girlfriend?" I asked, my voice hoarse and broken amidst the running water.

Dante gave a faint "Mm," then stopped what he was doing.

His fathomless, predatory eyes locked onto mine through the steam.

A mocking smirk crawled onto his lips.

"Elena, you didn't find a new boyfriend."

He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with wicked amusement.

"You sent me that text on purpose, didn't you?"

"Did you really think playing such a pathetic stunt in a cheap motel would make me beg you to come back?"

My face burned fiercely with unbearable shame.

He had seen right through my fragile disguise in a single glance, stripping away my very last shred of dignity.

"I didn't..." I bit down hard on my lip, desperately holding back my tears.

Dante grabbed a towel and draped it heavily over my shoulders.

"Good," he said coldly, the warmth of his body instantly withdrawing from me.

"You are an adult, Elena. Learn to take responsibility for your actions. Since you asked to end things back then, it means we are completely over."