DANTE'S POV
I felt my jaw dropped when I watched Helena walk down the stairs fully dressed. She had on a long flowing gown that accentuated her curves perfectly, her long hair cascaded down her back in flawless waves, her skin glowed under the dim light and I could stare at nothing but her red stained lips. Her eyes remained fixed on me as she walked down the stairs, a small smile playing on her lips which slowly morphed into a dirty smirk.
When she reached me, she pressed her lips to my cheek as if placing her mark on me and declaring that I was hers, and I felt a bulge tighten in my pants. Oh, the things she does to me and at that moment I wanted nothing but to rip her pretty dress off and claim her even further, leaving my mark on various parts of her body. I could still see the bright red hickey on her neck, and it looked a little lonely. I grabbed her slim waist, pulling her to me so I could take in her intoxicating scent.
I sniffed her neck, whispering in her ears "I can't wait to get that dress of you"
"I literally just put it on baby" she said back to me with a playful smile.
"You look stunning in it, but you know what you'd look even more stunning without it" I said to her, my gaze was lustful and I wasn't even trying to hide it. I glanced at my Rolex watch, realizing we were running late so I took her hands instead, pulling her with me out of the house to Matteo waiting outside in the car.
"Matteo's driving?" I could feel the eye roll even though I wasn't directly looking at her.
"Well he still has to atone for his sins, so he has to serve me"
She rolled her eyes again and this time I was looking at her "What's this party for again?"
"Just an investors meet, and a golden opportunity for charity organizations to milk our pockets dry"
The ride to the location was quiet, but the tension was thick. Matteo had his gaze fixed on the road and I couldn't help but notice his jaw fixed in a stone. Whatever had his pants in a complicated twist wasn't exactly my business and besides it was Matteo, he was always in a bad mood and I refused to imagine it was because of my marriage to Helena. I didn't believe he fancied her in the slightest, he was just a troublemaker.
By the time we arrived at the party, I still couldn't take my eyes off Helena and it was as if everybody else bore my same thought. Every time she moved, it was like the air around her shifted, drawing eyes, including mine. But there was something about the way she carried herself tonight, poised but slightly distant, that pulled at me more than usual. Like she knew exactly what kind of effect she had on me, and maybe she was using it to keep me on edge.
The party itself was the usual-a sea of men in suits, most of them far more interested in drowning their stress in whiskey than in staying close to their wives. They mingled, laughed too loud, the clinks of glasses echoing around the room. I caught snippets of conversations about stocks, offshore accounts, and endless complaints about marriage. Most of these men would rather be anywhere but here, pretending to give a damn about their so-called partners. The ones who weren't already sneaking off with some younger woman were lining up their next drink like it was their only salvation.
But none of that mattered to me. No amount of fine liquor or business talk could distract me from what I really wanted-to be with Helena. The thought of us, alone, wrapped in each other, naked in my bed, made my pulse race. The noise of the party blurred into the background as I imagined what the night could've been if we weren't surrounded by these empty conversations. I didn't give a damn about the rest of the world. All I wanted was her.
We'd been enjoying the party for a while when one of my business associates spotted me from across the room, signaling for a private conversation. I knew what it was about-an ongoing shipment we had coming in from Colombia. Not exactly the type of conversation I wanted to have while I had Helena with me, but business was business. I leaned into her ear, taking in her scent as I told her, "I'll be back soon. Don't go too far."
She nodded, taking a sip from the drink she had been nursing from the start of the party and I wondered if she was ever going to finish it, she wasn't much of a drinker.
On my way there, I ran into Matteo. He was lingering near the bar, his usual stoic expression unreadable as ever. I wasn't sure how much he'd had to drink, but his eyes were focused, sharp. I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Keep an eye on her while I'm gone," I said, locking eyes with him.
Matteo didn't move, didn't even flinch. His gaze held mine for a second too long, defiant. But after a moment, he gave me a slow, deliberate nod. Something about his attitude bothered me, but I brushed it off for now. I didn't have time to get into it with him.
As the conversation wrapped up, I made my way back to Helena. But just as I was about to head to the main room, I felt a hand on my arm, pulling me into a different, dimly lit corridor. My pulse quickened, but it wasn't with anticipation-it was instinct. I turned, and my eyes widened when I saw who it was.
Gianna.
Her presence hit me like a wave, her eyes locking onto mine with the same intensity they always had. She stood there, blocking my path, her body angled just enough that I couldn't slip past her without making it obvious.
"Gianna, what the hell-" I started, but she cut me off, her voice low and steady.
"I'm not letting you walk away from me this time," she said, stepping closer, her scent familiar, stirring something long buried inside me. "We need to talk."
Gianna's smile was sharp, almost predatory. "I get it, you're married," she said, her voice light, as though she was amused by the whole situation. "But just as friends, you know? We're still friends, right? I mean, your marriage to her isn't going to change that, is it?"
I stared at her, my throat tight, unsure of how to respond. Every part of me wanted to shut this down, to tell her no, we're not friends. Not anymore. But the words wouldn't come. The memories of what we once had-long nights talking about nothing, laughing over drinks, the feel of her body close to mine-kept fogging my brain. She looked the same, smelled the same, and it was messing with my head. But I loved Helena now. I loved her in a way that I couldn't even explain, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt her again.
Still, Gianna wasn't letting up. She stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Come on, Dante," she said softly, her voice dipping into that familiar, intimate tone. "Just like old times. We'd sit, drink, smoke cigarettes, joke about nothing. You can come back to my hotel later, and we can talk. She doesn't have to know, and you wouldn't be doing anything wrong. I've missed you."
I gave her a look, one that I hoped would convey that I wasn't interested. But she was persistent, relentless, like she always was. I dragged my eyes away from her, focusing on the door. I needed to get out of there before I did something I would regret. Helena was waiting for me, and I couldn't-wouldn't-hurt her. Not again. Not after everything we'd been through.
But Gianna didn't give up. "Just this once," she murmured, her voice coaxing. "Just as friends. For old times' sake."
I looked back at her, my resolve wavering for a second. A long, heavy sigh escaped me, my shoulders sagging. "Just as friends," I muttered, feeling the weight of the words settle on me. I was making a mistake. I knew it. But the pull of familiarity, of the past, was stronger than I thought.
Just as I was about to turn and leave, I felt Gianna's hand wrap around my wrist, pulling me back.
"But friends who do this"
Her lips were on mine before I could even react, soft but insistent. It was like being yanked back into a time I'd sworn to leave behind. My mind screamed at me to stop, but my body had frozen, caught between the past and the present.
And then, the door flung open.