Jazz didn’t wait for permission. She stepped around the desk and pushed through the heavy doors, ignoring the startled protest behind her. Let them try to stopher.
The moment she stepped inside, the Senator looked up, his gaze assessing, scheming. He hadn’t expected her, and that worked to her advantage. Surprise flickered over his features, followed swiftly by something else—irritation. Disdain.
“Miss Mirabella,” he drawled, setting his pen down atop a pile of documents.
“Mrs. Dante,” Jazz corrected, her voice clear, unwavering. “And I’m nothere for games.”
The Senator’s lips pressed into a thin line, his fingers tapping once against the desk, studying her. For a beat, he said nothing, just let the strength of his scrutiny settle between them, as if daring her to falter. Then, with a sigh that carried more annoyance than curiosity, he finally spoke. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
Jazz didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I need you to release Titus. Now.”
A slow smile spread across the Senator’s face, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And what makes you think you have the authority to make demands? You’re playing a dangerous game,Jazz. You may be Dante’s wife, but that doesn’t make you untouchable.”
She took another step forward, closing the distance between them. “You’ve held him in check long enough. It ends today.”
The Senator’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “You really think I’m the one pulling the strings? That your husbandis some helpless victim? You don’t understand the world you married into, darling. Titus makes his choices. Just like you’re making yours.”
Jazz’s jaw clenched. “I know exactly what I married into. And I know men like you—men who thrive off domination, who think they can play with lives like pieces on a chessboard. I’ve spent enough time being used. It stops now.”
“Tell me something,” he murmured. “Do you think you’re the first woman to walk in here demanding something of me? You’re not.” His voice dipped lower, edged with a dangerous amusement. “And like all the others, you’ll find that demanding doesn’t get you very far.”
“I think it will.”
The Senator stood slowly, pushing his chair back with a measured grace. But there was something different in his posture now, something more predatory. The way he moved, the slow, deliberate way he stalked toward her, sent a warning through her veins before he even spoke. His gaze dragged over her, his smirkdeepening with something dark, something that turned her stomach.
“You really think this is how it works?” he murmured, moving around the desk, his presence looming larger as he closed the space between them. He was taller than she remembered, broader, the kind of man who made a living off intimidation.. “That you can just walk in here and tell me what to do? That Titus Dante gets to walk away because his pretty little wife demands it?”
Jazz held her ground, but her pulse spiked as he reached her. The change was instant—his words no longer just a power play, his presence no longer just an intimidation tactic. This was something else. Something real. Something dangerous. Somethingevil.
“You want your precious husband free of me?” His voice dipped, low and vile. “Then you’ll have to make it worth my while, Jazz. Bend over my desk and fuck me, and I’ll consider releasing him.”
His hand snapped out before she could react, fingers wrappingaround her arm in a bruising grip. She gasped, the sudden contact sending a jolt of shock through her. The Senator pulled her forward, his face close, his breath brushing against her cheek.
“You think your threats will work on me?” His voice was a whisper, lethal in its softness. “The only way you get what you want is if you give me what I want.”
Jazz’s heart pounded, her breath coming in short, urgent bursts. This wasn’t a man trying to manipulate her with words anymore. This was something physical, something suffocating. His grip tightened on her arm, fingers pressing deep enough that she knew there would be bruises.
A painful sting shot up her limb, her skin burning beneath his touch. Panic surged in her chest, her breath hitching as she instinctively tried to wrench free. But his fingers were like a vise, unyielding, and the more she struggled, the more his grip dugin.
A sick, twisted glint flickered in his eyes, feeding off her reaction, daring her to fight harder. Her pulse roared in her ears, her mind racing foran escape, for something—anything—that would force him to letgo.
Panic flared hot in her chest, but it didn’t freeze her—it burned. He thought he could overcome her, break her. But she wasn’t the woman he thought shewas.
She jerked back, twisting against his grip, but he didn’t release her. “Let me go,” she bit out, but the Senator only chuckled, his fingers tightening further.
“That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You came to me. Now, you play by my rules.” She had let her father direct her before, dictate her worth, treat her like a bargainingchip.
No more.
Jazz’s pulse was a wild drumbeat against her ribs. She struggled against his grip again, but his fingers were iron, his strength suffocating.
And then the words ripped from her before she even knew she was going to saythem.
“I’mpregnant.”
The words dropped between them like a live grenade, the shift immediate. His entire body stilled, his grip loosening just enough for her to yank herself free. He stepped back, his expression flickering from shock to something uglier—disgust.
“Pregnant?” he repeated, his lip curling as if the very word left a bad taste in his mouth. “Who’s the father? Dante?”
