Perfect Illusions
Isabella Moretti stood in front of the grand bay windows of her villa, sunlight spilling through the glass and casting a warm glow over her elegant figure. She cradled her three-month-old son, Nico, in her arms, her lips brushing against his soft dark curls. His tiny hand clutched at her dress, his innocent coos filling the silent room. To the world, Isabella had everything—a loving husband, a beautiful son, and a life of opulence.
Behind her, Dante entered the room, his commanding presence as potent as ever. He was every bit the image of a devoted husband, his dark eyes softening as they landed on his wife and child. He crossed the room in long strides, wrapping an arm around Isabella’s waist.
“You take my breath away, Bella,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.
She smiled up at him, her heart full. “You’re just saying that because I haven’t slept in three days,” she teased.
He chuckled, his hand resting protectively over hers as she held Nico. “You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
The words melted her exhaustion. She leaned into him, feeling the security of his presence. To her, Dante was her rock—the man who had fought against the world to give her this perfect life. They had met five years ago, when she was a sheltered daughter of a mafia patriarch, and he was the enigmatic rising star of the Moretti empire. Their love had been passionate, unrelenting. He had sworn to protect her, to cherish her, and to build a future where she and their family would never know fear.
As Dante reached out to take Nico, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Isabella caught the flicker of irritation in his eyes before he pulled it out, glancing at the screen.
“Work?” she asked gently.
He nodded, his jaw tightening. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Stay inside today, Bella. Things are… tense right now.”
Though her brow furrowed with concern, she didn’t press him. She trusted Dante completely.
In the darkened hallways of the Moretti estate, Dante’s mask slipped. The warmth in his eyes turned cold, and his movements became sharper, more calculated. He strode toward the guest wing, where Sofia waited for him.
Sofia was Isabella’s mirror image, only sharper, hungrier. Where Isabella’s beauty was soft and warm, Sofia’s was striking and dangerous. She lounged on the settee, swirling a glass of red wine in her hand, her emerald-green dress clinging to her like a second skin.
“You took your time,” she purred, her gaze trailing over him.
“I had to play the doting husband,” Dante replied, his voice low and clipped.
Sofia rose, crossing the room with predatory grace. “And how is our dear Isabella?” she asked, her lips curving into a sly smile.
Dante’s jaw clenched. “She’s perfect. She always is.”
Sofia’s laughter rang out, soft and mocking. She placed a hand on his chest, her nails tracing the line of his shirt. “You mean she still doesn’t suspect anything?”
“She doesn’t,” Dante said firmly, though there was a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—in his eyes.
“Good,” Sofia whispered, pulling him closer. “Because we can’t have her finding out. Not yet.”
That evening, Isabella sat in the nursery, rocking Nico to sleep. She hummed a soft melody, the same lullaby her mother used to sing to her. Nico’s tiny fingers curled around hers, his lashes resting against his cheeks.
She thought of Dante, her heart swelling with love. He had been her anchor through so many storms. Even now, as his work consumed him, he made time for her, for Nico. Their life wasn’t perfect—it couldn’t be, not in the dangerous world they lived in—but it was theirs.
When Dante returned later that night, Isabella greeted him at the door. He pulled her into his arms, his hands sliding down her back. His kiss was deep, almost desperate, as if he were trying to erase something dark within himself.
“I missed you,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She smiled, running her fingers through his dark hair. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
He lifted her into his arms, carrying her to their bedroom. For a moment, the intensity in his eyes made her stomach flutter. In his arms, she felt like the only woman in the world.
Dante leaned in and whispered in her ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful, my love.” His hot breath sent shivers down her spine, and she felt her body respond to his words. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with desire, and whispered, “I want you, Dante.”
Dante didn’t need any more encouragement. He leaned in and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue explored her mouth. Isabella moaned, feeling herself getting lost in the moment.
Dante’s hands began to wander, and he started to caress her body. He ran his fingers down her back, and she arched her back, pressing her body closer to his. Dante’s fingers found the zipper of her night dress, and he slowly pulled it down, exposing her bare skin.
Isabella’s heart was racing as Dante’s hands explored her body. He cupped her breasts, and she felt her nipples harden under his touch. Dante leaned down and started to suck on her nipples, and she moaned louder, feeling herself getting closer to the edge.
Dante’s hand traveled down her body, and he started to caress her thighs. Isabella spread her legs wider, inviting him to explore further. Dante’s fingers found her wet pussy, and he started to rub her clit. Isabella moaned louder, feeling herself getting closer to the edge.
Dante started to finger her, and she felt herself getting closer to the edge. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with desire, and whispered, “Fuck me, Dante.” Dante didn’t need any more encouragement. He pulled out his dick and started to fuck her hard.
Isabella felt herself getting lost in the moment. Dante’s dick felt so good inside her, and she couldn’t get enough. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her. Dante started to spank her, and she moaned louder, feeling herself getting closer to the edge.
Dante’s pace started to quicken, and Isabella knew he was getting close. She felt her own orgasm building, and she knew she wasn’t far behind. Dante leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Come for me, Isabella.” And that was all it took. Isabella felt herself explode, and she screamed out in pleasure.
Dante followed shortly after, filling her up with his cum. They both lay there, panting and spent. Dante looked down at Isabella, his eyes shining with affection. “You’re my good girl, Bella,” he whispered. And with those words, Isabella knew that she was exactly where she wanted to be.
Hours later, when Isabella slept peacefully beside him, Dante slipped out of bed. He dressed silently, his movements precise. He left the room and made his way back to Sofia.
In the moonlit study, they stood together, a picture of forbidden intimacy. Sofia leaned against the desk, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
“It’s time,” she said, her voice like silk.
Dante hesitated, a shadow of doubt crossing his features. “She trusts me,” he said quietly. “She loves me.”
Sofia’s lips twisted into a cold smile. “And that’s why it will be so easy. She’ll never see it coming.”
Dante closed his eyes briefly, as if to banish the lingering guilt. When he opened them, they were hard, unyielding. “Let’s finish this.”
