Chapter 14 She’s in my head.
Dante's POV.
I’ve never had a proper sleep in my life, ever since I lost my parents.
Sleep is for men who never carried blood on their hands or cities on their backs.
Every time I close my eyes, I’d see her standing silent in front of me.
She’s too gentle, too yielding, and too easy to corner.
Isla Bennetti had no idea of what she was doing to me.
I haven’t seen her for days or maybe weeks, but her image has never left my memory.
Damian must have been busy with her, looks like he’s finally giving her the attention he once swore wouldn’t give.
I poured myself a drink. I didn’t touch it, just watched the city stretch beneath the window.
I remembered how she froze whenever and never fought whenever I had touched her.
I could feel like she liked it too. The way our bodies responded to each other, felt dangerous.
When the invitation to the Romano charity gala dropped at my desk, I accepted without any hesitation.
I wanted to see her. I wanted to hold her like I did the last time.
I haven’t stopped fantasizing how her breath would stutter and how she’d tremble under my touch.
I know she wouldn’t be expecting me there,… not like this.
She still thought I was distant, and that I don’t really care.
I dressed with intention. I wore a black suit, opened my collar. No softness.
If I was going to see her tonight, I wouldn't hold back.
The ballroom was filled with different colognes and the smell of wine.
Music played, people laughed, and deals waited behind smiles.
But then I saw her.
She stood beside Damian, dressed in black silk that clung to her skin.
It looked calm on the outside, and tight on the inside. I noticed the way her fingers clasped together.
People stared at her, while some whispered under their noses.
She didn’t belong here. She was too delicate for the wolves in this empire.
Damian moved closer to her, saying something only she could hear.
She nodded politely, and controlled in a way that made my jaws tightened.
She looked like she was trying too hard.
Andre the Lucia appeared minutes later. Looking smug as ever, slipping into Damian’s arm like she owned him.
And then he left. Just like that.
Isla turned, confusion flickering across her face.
I didn’t know what pushed my legs forward. I just stepped in.
“Did he abandon you?” I asked slightly. “Or is that his way of trusting the room?”
She was startled and turned.
Her eyes hit mine with full force. “Y-you,” she breathed.
I smiled warmly, and disarmingly. “Relax,” I said. “If I wanted to cause trouble, we’d already be clearing the room.”
Her lips twitched. She looked annoyed, relieved and curious at the same time.
“I didn’t expect you here,” she said.
“Neither did I,” I replied smoothly. “And yet here we are.”
“Shall we,” I said, gesturing toward a quiet entrance. “Before someone mistakes you for a prey.”
Her brow creased. “Is that how this place works?”
“Only for those who look easy.”
She stiffened.
I leaned closer. “You don’t look easy.”
Those words alone earned me a suspicious look.
“Why do you talk like that,” she asked.
“Like what?”
“Like you know me too well.”
I shrugged. “I pay attention.” I said, voice warm.
She hesitated for a while, then nodded once.
We moved away from the crowd, down to a velvet lined corridor that led to the private suites.
The noise dulled, and the air between us changed.
She exhaled. “This feels better.” She murmured.
“You look like you’ve been holding your breath all night.”
“Maybe I have.” She replied.
“That’s a bad habit.” I cut in.
She glanced at me. “You criticize a lot.”
“I protect what’s mine.”
Her step faltered. “I’m not…”
“I know,” I cut in gently. “I didn’t say you were.”
That shut her up.
The suite door closed behind us with a soft click.
She wandered toward the window. Looked out at the city, arms crossed loosely.
“I don’t like these things,” she said.
“Galas?”
“People pretending they’re kind.”
I laughed under my breath. “You’re sharper than you look on the outside.”
She shrugged. “People underestimate me. And it’s useful.”
I stepped closer. “Is it?”
She turned. “You tell me.”
We stood closer to each other now. The air between us tightened.
“You didn’t defend yourself earlier,” I said casually.
Her jaw tensed. “I didn’t need to.”
“You do.” She looked away.
I reached close, not touching just close enough.
“You let people step on you,” I continued. “Why?”
Her voice stayed calm. “Because reacting doesn’t solve anything.”
“Or,” I said quietly. “Because you were taught to endure.”
That hit. I knew it did.
She lifted her chin. “You’re assuming.”
“I’m just observing.”
Silence stretched between us for a moment.
“You defended me earlier,” she finally said.
“I dislike bullies.”
“That woman wasn’t…”
“She knew exactly what she was doing.”
She looked at me for some moment. “Why do you care?”
I smiled, slowly. “Care is a dangerous word.”
Her breath hitched. “So is curiosity,” she said.
I stepped closer. Trapped her between me and the window without touching.
“Tell me something,” I murmured. “Do you always ask questions you’re afraid to hear answered?”
Her voice softened. “Only when I think the truth matters.”
I leaned in. “Then stop pretending you don’t feel this.”
She didn’t step away, and that was the problem.
Her back met the wall, her silk brushed the marble, eyes lifted to mine like she was craving something she didn’t know to stop.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.
I smiled faintly. “Neither should you.”
Her jaw tightened. “I followed him.”
“And now?” I asked softly.
Her breath stuttered. “Now I’m not sure who I’m standing with.”
I moved closer again, still not touching, but letting the space between us do the work.
“You look at me like I’m a stranger,” I said. “Yet you didn’t run.”
Her fingers dug into the fabric of her dress. “Because you don’t look like one.”
I lifted a hand slowly, giving her time to pull away.
She didn’t. Her knuckles brushed her chin, titling her face.
“This is where you say stop,” I murmured.
She fluttered. “And if I don’t.”
“Then you admit you feel it too.”
There was silence.
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “You make it hard to think.”
I closed in just enough for my breath to graze her lips.
“That’s intentional.”
Her breath went shaky. “You shouldn’t…”
“I know,” I said.
She didn’t finish the sentence. Her hand rose first.
Her hand touched my wrist, light and testing.
And that was all it took.
My lips descended on hers, urgently and recklessly.
Her finger twisted my jacket. My hand slid down her waist, pulling her closer until I felt her body on mine.
She let out a broken moan, like she hated how much she wanted this.
I broke the kiss first. Her eyes were dark and unsteady, like she was just waiting for this moment.
“This,” I said in a low tone. “Is dangerous.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“And you’re still standing here.”
Her voice was barely sound. “So are you.”
I brushed my thumb under her lip. She trembled.
“Tell me,” I murmured, “When you look at me… do you see the man you married?”
Her breath caught. “I don’t know anymore.”
Suddenly there was a sharp knock on the door and we pulled apart instantly.
Her heart raced. I could see it in her face.
A voice came from the other side of the door. Calm and cold.
“Open the door.”
Damian.
I stepped back, my expression sealed, and my control snapped into place.
Her eyes flicked between the door and me.
Between familiarity and fear. Between certainty and doubt.
And in that moment… she was sure which Dante she had just kissed.
And neither of us spoke.