Chapter 15 She’s mine to take
Dante’s POV
Isla slipped out the way people do when they don’t want to be seen.
She slipped out quietly, but in fear.
I felt the way her heart raced and the confusion in her eyes.
I watched her disappear through the side corridor, her clothes brushing the doorframe, and her eyes never turning back.
My smart girl.
The suite felt colder the moment she left. And then the door opened again.
This time, there wasn’t any softness to it.
Damian walked in.
He didn’t look rushed. His face looked normal, no sign of anger, just that calm that always meant control.
“So,” he said, looking around the room. “She’s gone?”
I leaned against the table, folding my arms. “She excused herself.”
He scoffed. “You always have this habit of putting things at ease.”
“And you always arrive late.”
His gaze flicked to my collar, and my mouth like he noticed something.
“You were alone with her,” he said.
“Yes.”
“She shouldn’t have been.” He said.
“And yet,” I replied lightly, “she was.”
He stepped closer, but not threatening. Just territorial. “She’s my wife.”
I gave a small cold smile. “Your ring. My name.”
His jaw tightened. “She signed because you pushed her to me,” he said. “You didn’t want her.”
“I didn’t want the marriage,” I corrected. “It's a big difference.”
“You refused her,” Damian said flatly.
“And still,” I replied, “she bears my surname.”
The words landed where I wanted it to. Silence stretched between us.
“You crossed a line tonight,” he said.
“Lines are drawn by weak men,” I answered.
Damian exhaled slowly. “She’s fragile.”
“She’s observant,” I countered. “Ans far less helpless than you think.”
“She doesn’t belong in your games.”
I tilted my head. “Interesting choice of words for a man who brought Andre De Lucia into her orbit.”
His eyes narrowed. “Andre is useful.”
“I don’t have a problem with that,” I said. “As long as she isn’t humiliating mine.”
His posture shifted. “Lucia didn’t humiliate her,” he said.
“She smiles while doing it,” I replied. “Worse.”
Damian looked at me for a moment. “Why are you suddenly interested?”
I shrugged. “I dislike when people cross their boundaries.”
“She’s not your problem.”
“She became mine the moment she signed my name.”
He stepped closer now. “You didn’t want her.”
“And yet,” I repeated, “here we are.”
His lips curved humorlessly. “Funny how that works.”
We stood there, two identical men, wanting the same thing and refusing to name it.
“She doesn’t defend herself,” he said after a moment.
“She chooses her battle,” I replied.
“And you’re suddenly generous with your words when it comes to her.”
He crossed his arm. “Lucia won’t bother her again.”
“She shouldn’t have done that in the first place.”
“She’s just loyal,” Damian said.
“She’s cruel,” I corrected. “And you have to teach her the difference.”
His eyes darkened. “Careful.”
I smiled. “Always.”
Another silence. But he broke it.
“You kissed her.”
I didn’t deny it. He nodded once. “Thought as much.”
“She didn’t pull away.” I said, voice horses.
“She shouldn’t be in a position to choose.”
“That’s not how desire works.”
He laughed quietly. “Since when do you lecture me on restraint?”
“Since you married a woman you barely look at.”
That hit. He turned toward the window. “You refused her.”
“I refused the role,” I said. “Not the woman.”
“Convenient.”
“That’s true.”
He turned to face me again. “You don’t get to want her now.”
I leaned forward. “I always did.”
He looked at me for a moment too long. “You didn’t know it.” He said.
“Neither did you.”
“She’s not even ready for you,” he said.
“She’s not ready for either of us.”
The door handle rattled outside and we both went still.
A guard’s voice murmured. Then the footsteps retreated.
Damian checked his phone and his brows creased.
“You’ve been sending me messages,” he said.
I raised a brow. “Have I?”
“Anonymous. Testing. Pushing.”
I shook my head once. “Not my style.”
He looked at my face, confused. “You swear?”
“You know I don’t play games like that.”
His jaw tightened. “Then who does?”
I straightened as cold settled in my chest. That wasn’t a question I liked.
Damian slipped his phone into his pocket. “Someone knows too much.”
“Or want you distracted,” I said.
He nodded slowly, “Either way…”
He looked at the door Isla had used and turned to leave, pausing at the threshold.
“If you touch her again,” he said quietly. “We’ll have a problem.”
I met his eyes. “You already do.”
The door closed behind him. I stood where I was, mind racing, my blood warm.
Anonymous message. Testing. The timing was too precise.
Someone was watching, and the question wasn’t who wanted Isla…
It was… who was bold enough to interfere with the Romanos?