The force of those words hit her in the chest, but she refused to back down.

“I don’t belong to anyone! I’m not an object!” she shouted, her whole body trembling with fury and helplessness.

Dante moved in a blink.

Before she could react, he was in front of her—closing the distance like a predator. His hand clamped around the back of her neck, tilting her head upward to meet his gaze. His breath was warm on her skin, his grip firm but not cruel.

“Trying to play the dignified one?” he growled in a rasp, his fury pulsing beneath each word. “And the first thing you do when you walk into my room is strip.”

Svetlana didn’t look away.

“I did it because I thought that’s what you expected of me.”

Dante pressed his lips into a hard line.

“Don’t try to twist things. I’m no boy. I don’t play games,” he snapped. His hand loosened slightly, but his stare didn’t waver. “If I’d wanted a whore, I would’ve summoned someone who actually enjoys screaming under my body. And believe me—I know plenty who wo