The basement of the Volkov mansion was not like the rest of the house. It was made of thick concrete and had bright lights. This was Dante's private shooting range. The air smelled like burnt powder and cold metal. On the wall, there were dozens of guns, from small pistols to heavy rifles.
Leo stood in the middle of the room, feeling very small. He was used to holding a scalpel to save lives, not a weapon to take them. His hands were shaking just a little bit.
"Pick it up, Leo," Dante said. He was standing behind a table, looking at a small, silver handgun. It was beautiful, but it looked deadly.
Leo reached out and touched the cold metal. He picked it up, but he held it like it was a poisonous snake. "Dante... I'm a doctor. I don't use these things."
Dante walked over to him. He was dressed in a black tight shirt that showed every muscle in his arms. He stood behind Leo, his chest pressing against Leo's back. He was so much bigger and stronger. The heat from Dante's body made Leo's heart race.
"In this house, a doctor who can't shoot is a dead doctor," Dante whispered into Leo's ear. His voice was deep and sent a shiver down Leo's spine. "The Italians are coming. Enzo's men are watching. I won't always be there to stand in front of you."
Dante reached around and put his large hands over Leo's smaller ones. He forced Leo to lift the gun and point it at the paper target at the end of the room. The target was a silhouette of a man.
"Feet apart," Dante commanded. He used his boot to push Leo's legs wider until he was steady. "Shoulders down. Don't fight the gun. Let it become a part of your arm."
Leo felt the power of Dante's grip. Dante was controlling every move of his body. It was intimidating, but it also made Leo feel safe. With Dante holding him like this, nothing could hurt him.
"Now," Dante growled, his lips brushing against Leo's neck. "Look at the target. Imagine it is the man who tried to hurt your sister. Imagine it is the man who wants to take you away from me. What do you do?"
Leo took a deep breath. He focused on the paper man. He thought about the fear he felt at the hospital and the red text on the burner phone. His finger found the trigger.
BANG!
The gun kicked back, and the noise was like thunder in the small room. Leo gasped, but Dante's strong arms kept him from falling. They looked at the target. There was a hole right in the shoulder of the paper man.
"Not bad for a beginner," Dante said with a small, dark smile. He didn't let go of Leo. Instead, he pulled Leo even closer. He turned Leo around so they were chest to chest. "But you were shaking. You were afraid of the noise."
"It's loud," Leo said, his breath coming fast. "And it feels... heavy."
Dante took the gun from Leo's hand and set it on the table. He grabbed Leo's waist and lifted him up, sitting him on the edge of the wooden table. Dante stepped between Leo's legs, his eyes burning with that familiar, dark hunger.
"The gun is just a tool, Leo," Dante said. He put his hands on Leo's thighs, his fingers digging into the soft skin. "Power comes from here." He tapped Leo's heart. "And from here." He pointed to Leo's head.
The shooting range was empty and quiet now. The only sound was their breathing. The intimidation was thick in the air, but so was the "heat." Leo reached out and put his hands on Dante's shoulders. He felt the heavy gold ring on his finger—the black diamond that proved he belonged to the Devil.
"Teach me more," Leo whispered.
Dante leaned in and kissed Leo, a deep, hungry kiss that tasted like gunpowder. "I will teach you everything, Leo. I will make you as dangerous as I am. And when the Italians come, they will realize they made a mistake by touching what belongs to Dante Volkov."
Dante picked up the gun again and put it back in Leo's hand. He stayed behind him, guiding his aim, his body a shield and a cage all at once. They stayed in the basement for hours, the sound of the gun filling the air over and over again. By the time they finished, Leo's hands didn't shake anymore.