Chapter 82: THIEF IN THE NIGHT

MIA

I woke to the soft creak of the window frame. At first, I thought it was the wind and almost went back to bed, but the more I listened, the less it sounded like just the wind.

My heart started to race as I peeled my eyes open and saw a dark silhouette climb in through the opening, very silently.

A thief?!

I could see from the faint moonlight that it was a man and terror instantly flooded my veins as I opened my mouth to scream for help, but he had anticipated this and moved fast.

A strong hand clamped over my mouth before I could even take a deep breath. His body pressed against mine, pinning me to the bed with ease as he leaned close to my ear, breath warm.

“It's me.” He whispered.

It was Dante.

What the fuck?

Now, the fear turned to anger.

“Don’t scream, cara.”

The rational part of my mind screamed at me to fight. Maybe bite down on his palm, to alert Yuna sleeping in the next room. But I didn’t. My body stayed frozen beneath him, heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with fear alone.

He held still for a moment, waiting to see what I would do. When he saw I wasn't reacting, he slowly loosened his grip then backed away, giving me space.

Scream, Mia! My mind screamed at me but I stayed silent.

He simply stood there, watching me. The moonlight from the window made his features look ten times sharper than before.

The tension between us was like electricity, waiting for the right moment to spark it.

He turned slightly and started to inspect the room. His fingers brushed over the dresser, picked up a book I’d been pretending to read for a while, flipped a page. “You’ve always liked thrillers,” he murmured. “Funny, considering the situation we have found ourselves in.”

Fucking prick.

I said nothing.

He picked up a picture of yuna and I. “Yuna’s been good to you,” he said. “But she can’t keep you safe forever. No one can. Not like I can.”

My fingers twisted in the sheets. He paused by the windowsill then lifted something– it was a small bouquet of deep red roses. They were so fresh their scent instantly filled the room as he set them on the nightstand.

“Throw them out,” I finally whispered.

He slowly turned to me, paused then stepped closer, he was so close I could smell his cologne and feel the heat coming from him. “Pick them up and throw them out yourself,” he challenged softly, eyes locked on mine. “If you truly don’t want them… if you truly don’t want me here… do it.”

I got up angrily then stormed to the dresser and paused, hands trembling as I reached for the bouquet. My fingers brushed some of its petals and it was so soft.

I felt like crushing them or throwing it out of the window but I couldn't bring myself to do it. No matter how much I tried to will myself to wrap my fingers around it, I couldn't.

I slowly dropped my hand and I could almost feel the victory radiating off him. I slowly looked at him and his gaze had darkened with satisfaction and hunger which made the tension so thick I could barely breathe through it.

My toes curled as I shiver went through me, my belly flipping.

He was giving me the illusion of choice, and I was failing his test spectacularly.

He closed the remaining distance slowly, giving me every chance to pull away but I still didn't.

Then he slowly raised his hand to honer over my cheek before caressing it tenderly. My lips parted with a shaky exhale.

Snap out of it, Mia!

Push him—

His lips were suddenly so close to mine I could smell his minty breath which made my stomach and thigh clench.

Fuck him. He knew just how much effect he had on me and he was milking it.

He tenderly brushed a kiss against my lips which sent lightening through me. And just as I was about to shamefully claim his lips in mine, he smirked then pulled away.

Without another word, he turned and climbed back out the window, vanishing into the night as silently as he had come. The room felt colder without him.

I could hear my heart racing in my ears.

“Fuck you, Dante Voss.” I whispered at the open window but God did I desperately want to kiss him.

I might need therapy.

I stayed here for a long time, heart thundering and lips tingling. My body was still betraying me with the wetness I could feel between my legs. I hated him and I hated how much I still wanted him. The twisted dark romance we had started in that basement refused to end.

Finally, I reached for the light and found a small folded note resting on my pillow. I hadn’t even seen him place it.

With shaky hands, I picked it up and opened it.

“Next time I won’t leave so soon. Sleep well, cara.”

One part of my mind told me to shred or burn it which I was so close to doing but instead, I folded it carefully and slipped it into the hidden pocket of my camera bag.