Chapter 76
Chapter 76
. . . . .
The next morning.
I wake up to the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the enormous windows, and for a second, I don’t know where I am. The bed beneath me is impossibly soft, like I’m floating on a cloud. The sheets are smooth, cool against my skin, and when I shift slightly, I feel the soreness in my thighs, my abdomen. That’s when it all comes rushing back...
Oh. My. God.
I squeeze my eyes shut as the memories from last night flood my mind. Tyler. Cara. The bar... Dante.
Dante.
My face heats as flashes of his hands on my skin, his lips on my neck, the way groaned my name while he was inside me and the way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world all play on repeat. I swallow hard, my heart starting to pound again, but this time for a different reason. I barely even know him, yet I’d let him completely consume me last night...
I roll onto my back, careful not to disturb the man still lying beside me. But when I glance over at him, my breath catches in my throat...
Dante is sprawled out on his stomach, the tattoos on his back as well as his powerful muscles being on full display, his head turned toward me. His dark hair is mussed, his strong back bare above the sheets, and his face looks impossibly relaxed in sleep, the sharp edges softened by the morning light. Even like this, he oozes confidence, and I can’t stop myself from staring.
What the hell have I done?
I shift slightly, trying to slide out from under the covers without waking him. But the second I move, his eyes flutter open, those deep brown eyes fixing on me instantly.
"Lana..." He calls out to me, the raspiness of his morning voice sending my body shuddering. “Leaving so soon?” His asks, his voice rough from sleep, but there’s a teasing lilt to it that makes my stomach flip.
I freeze, caught like a kid sneaking out of class. “I didn’t mean to wake you...”
“You didn’t.” He flips over and props himself up on one elbow, relaxing on one of his arms his gaze sweeps over me with a lazy sort of amusement. “You’re a little hard to ignore, though...”
I bite my lip, unsure what to say. My body is still humming with the aftereffects of last night, but my brain is screaming at me to get out of here before I make things even more complicated.
“So uhm... About last night...” I start, my voice trailing off awkwardly. “I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” I try to say to him but instead he reaches out to me, to stop me from saying anything more.
“Don’t.” His voice cuts through my rambling, soft but firm. “Don’t apologise.”
I look at him, startled.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he continues, his gaze holding mine. “In fact, I’d say last night was... pretty perfect.”
My cheeks flush at the way he says it, his voice low and filled with something that makes my stomach twist...
“Still,” I say, dragging the sheet higher over my chest. “I really shouldn’t have let things get that far. I was upset, and I—”
“Needed someone to make you forget?” He finishes for me, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
I blink, stunned by how easily he reads me, and I hate that he’s not wrong. “Something like that,” I mutter.
Dante sits up fully now, the sheet sliding down his torso to reveal more of his toned chest. My eyes betray me and flicker over him, and the smirk on his face grows wider when he notices.
“Lana,” he says softly, his voice dropping an octave. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. Last night was what it was.” He leans closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “But I don’t regret a second of it. Do you?”
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. Because the truth is, I don’t regret it. Not even a little...
“I thought so,” he says, his smirk softening into something almost... tender.
"Who knew you would be such a good girl." He tells me and I can’t take the intensity in his gaze, so I glance down at the crumpled sheet in my lap.
“I uhm-... I-I should probably go,” I murmur, to stunned to say anthing else after such a comment.
Dante raises an eyebrow. “Why don’t you stay for a little while longer?”
I shake my head. “I really can’t. I have to get home, shower, figure out my life...”
“Then shower here,” he says casually, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
I blink at him, surprised. “Here?”
“Yeah. I’ll even make you breakfast.” His tone is playful, but the look in his eyes tells me he’s serious.
“I don’t want to impose—”
“You’re not imposing,” he cuts in smoothly. “If anything, you’d be doing me a favour. I could use a good excuse to keep you here a little longer...”
My heart stutters in my chest at his words, but I try to play it off with a nervous laugh. “You’re awfully charming for someone I met less than twelve hours ago.”
“I’m full of surprises,” he says, flashing me a grin that’s both cocky and devastatingly attractive.
Before I can come up with a response, he reaches for my hand, his fingers brushing against mine. “Stay, Lana,” he says, his voice soft but insistent. “Just for a little while longer...”
Something in the way he says my name makes me pause, and against my better judgment, I find myself nodding. “Okay. Just for a little while.”
\---
The bathroom is enormous, with gleaming marble floors and a rainfall showerhead that looks like it belongs in a five-star resort. It’s luxurious and sleek, but I’m too preoccupied to fully take it in.
I’m still trying to figure out what I’m doing here when Dante steps into the bathroom behind me.
“I thought you were making breakfast,” I say, my voice catching as I turn to face him.
His lips twitch into a sly grin. “Breakfast can wait.”
Before I can respond, he closes the distance between us, his hands finding my waist as he leans down to kiss me. It’s softer than last night, slower, but no less intense. His lips move against mine with a quiet confidence that makes my head spin.
“Dante,” I murmur, pulling back slightly. “I really should—”
He silences me with another kiss, his hands sliding up to cup my face. “Stay,” he murmurs against my lips, and I feel myself melting under his touch.
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol still lingering in my system, the way he’s looking at me, or the fact that I just don’t want to say no, but I let him guide me toward the shower.
The warm water cascades over us, and the next thing I know, his hands are on me again, his lips trailing down my neck as steam fills the air around us.
It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. The way he touches me, the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters. For a moment, the outside world ceases to exist, and all I can think about is him.
\---
Later, when we’re back in his bedroom, I sit on the edge of the bed, wrapped in one of his ridiculously soft towels. Dante disappears into the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I glance around, finally taking in my surroundings. The penthouse is beautiful—expensive without being gaudy, modern without feeling cold. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the walls, offering a breathtaking view of the city below.
It’s clear that Dante is... well, rich. Very rich.
I can’t help but wonder what he does for a living. He doesn’t seem like the type to work a nine-to-five, and there’s an air of mystery about him that makes me think he’s not exactly the corporate type.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I look up to see Dante leaning against the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips. He’s holding two mugs of coffee, and he offers one to me as he crosses the room.
“Just... thinking,” I say vaguely, taking the mug from him.
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. Instead, he sits beside me on the bed, his knee brushing against mine.
“I should probably get going soon,” I say after a moment, though I don’t move to stand.
He tilts his head, studying me. “Do you have to?”
I nod. “Yeah. As much as I’d love to stay in this... palace of yours all day, I have a life to figure out. And an ex-boyfriend to keep avoiding.”
Dante’s jaw tightens slightly at the mention of Tyler, but he says nothing.
“I should at least give you my number,” I say, surprising even myself.
He smirks. “You should.”
I grab my phone from the nightstand and quickly type my number into his contacts. When I hand the phone back to him, he glances at the screen and smiles. “Lana,” he says softly, like he’s testing the way my name feels on his tongue.
I stand, finally forcing myself to move. “Thanks for... everything,” I say, not really sure how to sum up the past twelve hours.
He stands, too, slipping his hands into his pockets as he watches me. “Let me at least give you a ride home. I’ll have one of my drivers take you.”
I blink. “You have a driver?”
He smirks, not answering the question directly. “It’s the least I can do.”
I hesitate for a moment but finally nod. “Okay. Thanks.”
He steps closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’ll see you again, Lana.”
It’s not a question. It’s a promise.
And as I step into the sleek black car waiting for me downstairs, I can’t help but feel like my life just got a whole lot more complicated.