“I Bought You So You’d Beg”—The Billionaire Crime King Paid $50 Million for the Wrong Daughter

Three months later, the sun was shining brightly over the jagged cliffs of Montauk, but inside the sprawling estate library, the atmosphere was strictly business.

Evelyn Hart sat behind the massive mahogany desk that had once belonged exclusively to Dante Bellamy. She wore a tailored charcoal blazer over a crisp white silk blouse, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek, elegant knot.

The double doors opened quietly, and Dante walked in, carrying two cups of black coffee. He set one down on the edge of the desk before leaning casually against the corner, watching her review a series of international shipping manifests on the terminal screen.

"The European council accepted our terms," Dante noted, his dark eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. "Port Newark is fully operational, and our rivals in Miami have formally requested a non-aggression pact."

"Good," Evelyn said without looking up from the screen, her fingers dancing effortlessly across the keyboard. "Because if they hadn't, I was going to raise their shipping tariffs by another fifteen percent."

Dante let out a low laugh, reaching down to gently close the laptop screen with his fingertips. Evelyn looked up, her gaze clashing with his—no longer as captor and captive, but as equals ruling an empire built on shadows, survival, and blood.

"You know," Dante murmured, his hand moving to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering against her cheek, "for a baker from Brooklyn, you run a criminal syndicate with terrifying efficiency."