Chapter 48 Too Late For That, Gianni
Cedric’s POV
His suit was rumpled, his hair slightly mussed like he’d been running his hands through it, and there was something wild in his eyes that Cedric had never seen before. Not anger exactly, but really, really close. Too close for comfort.
Those dark eyes swept the room in a heartbeat, noting everything, the remaining staff members, the guards by the door, the mess from the fight near the service entrance.
Then they landed on Cedric.
And on Dante, seated way too close to him, leaning in with that intimate posture that could be read a dozen different ways, none of them innocent.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Gianni went completely still, his gaze fixed on the two of them, and Cedric watched his jaw clench so tight.
“Dante,” Gianni said, his voice dangerously soft. “What are you doing?”
Dante didn’t move. Didn’t lean back or put distance between himself and Cedric. If anything, he seemed to settle more comfortably in his chair, like he was enjoying whatever reaction he was getting.
“Having dinner,” Dante said easily. “Your guest looked lonely. Thought I’d keep him company.”
“How thoughtful.” The words dripped with sarcasm and very evil intent. “Get away from him.”
“Why?” Dante’s smile was provocative. “We were just getting to know each other. Weren’t we, Cedric?”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Cedric could feel the tension radiating off Gianni from across the room, especially seeing the way his hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides.
The same jealousy and possession that Gianni couldn't seem to shake had reared it's ugly head again. Territorial rage barely contained by a thin mask of civilization, it wouldn't take much for that mask to fall right off and for someone unfortunate fellow to end up dead... Or worse.
“I was just eating,” Cedric said quickly, trying to defuse whatever was building between the two men. “He sat down without asking, I didn’t..."
“Dante,” Gianni repeated, his voice dropping even lower, completely ignoring Cedric’s explanation. “If you don’t move away from what’s mine in the next three seconds, I’m going to put you back in that cell you just got out of. And this time, I won’t be so merciful with the sentence.”
Dante’s eyes flickered with something, amusement? Challenge? Maybe both, but he finally stood, his movements deliberately slowly and casually. Like he was doing Gianni a favor instead of obeying a direct order.
He was playing a dangerous game.
“Understood, Boss,” he said, that knowing smile still playing on his lips. “Wouldn’t want to overstep.”
He picked up the wine bottle he’d been drinking from and took one last swig, his throat working as he swallowed, his eyes never leaving Gianni’s face. It was a show of defiance wrapped in compliance, and Cedric could see Gianni’s hands twitching at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from crossing the room and putting them around Dante’s throat.
“Good choice,” Gianni said flatly.
Dante started to walk away, passing behind Cedric’s chair on his way to the service entrance. He paused for just a moment, leaning down close enough that Cedric could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the wine on his breath mixed with something metallic, blood from his split lip.
“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Dante whispered, his lips almost brushing Cedric’s ear. “When your guard dog isn’t around to hear.”
His hand moved quick as lightning, with one of his hands dipping into Cedric’s pocket. Cedric felt something small and folded being pressed against his thigh through the fabric, paper, definitely paper, and then Dante’s hand was gone, the whole exchange taking maybe two seconds.
The angle was perfect. Gianni couldn’t see it from where he stood across the room, not with Dante’s body blocking his view, or with the movement so subtle and quick.
At least, Cedric hoped Gianni couldn’t see it.
Then Dante straightened up and sauntered toward the exit, his shoulders loose and relaxed, that infuriating smile still on his face.
“Dante,” Gianni called after him, his voice sharp.
Dante paused at the doorway, turning back with raised eyebrows. “Yes, Boss?”
“Strike four means more than just a cell. Remember that.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Dante’s grin widened. “Night, Cedric. Pleasure meeting you.”
Then he was gone, disappearing through the service entrance, leaving behind only the echo of his footsteps and the thick, suffocating tension that filled the dining hall like smoke.
The remaining staff members scattered immediately, sensing the coming storm. Guards retreated to their posts. The maid who’d been pretending to clean a nearby table while watching the drama unfold practically ran for the exit.
Within seconds, it was just Cedric and Gianni, forty feet of polished table between them, and a very heavy silence.
Cedric’s hand moved instinctively toward his pocket, toward the folded paper burning against his thigh, but he forced himself to stop and instead keep his hands visible on the table, that way he would not do anything that would draw Gianni’s attention to what Dante had just slipped him.
Gianni started walking. His eyes never left Cedric’s face, and with each footfall, Cedric’s heart rate kicked up another notch.
He knows, Cedric thought wildly. He saw it. He knows Dante gave me something and I’m so fucked,
Gianni reached him and stopped, looming over where Cedric still sat frozen in his chair. Up close, Cedric could see the details he’d missed from across the room, the slight sheen of sweat on Gianni’s forehead like he’d been running, the way his pupils were blown wide and dark, the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath the rumpled suit.
“Are you alright?” Gianni asked, his voice rough.
Of all the things Cedric had expected him to say, that wasn’t it.
“I... what?”
“Are you hurt?” Gianni’s hand came up to cup Cedric’s face, tilting it up to catch the light. His thumb brushed across Cedric’s cheekbone, searching for injuries that weren’t there. “Did anyone touch you? Threaten you?”
“No,” Cedric said, confused by the tenderness in the gesture when moments ago Gianni had looked ready to commit murder. “He just sat down and started talking. I didn’t invite him or anything, he just...”
“I know.” Gianni’s other hand settled on Cedric’s shoulder, possessively. “I know you didn’t. Dante has a talent for inserting himself where he’s not wanted.”
“Who is he?” Cedric asked, trying to ignore the way his body was responding to Gianni’s touch, and how he wanted to lean into it despite everything. “Why was he in a cell? And why does everyone here seem to know him?”
Gianni’s expression darkened. “That’s a conversation for later. Right now, I need to know exactly what he said to you.”
“Nothing important,” Cedric lied, the folded paper in his pocket suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. “Just asked if I was new here. If the rumors about us were true.”
“And you said?”
“I didn’t say anything. I was too busy choking on my water.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across Gianni’s face, there and gone in an instant. “Good. Don’t tell him anything. Don’t trust him. And if he approaches you again, you come find me immediately. Understood?”
“Why?” Cedric asked. “Is he dangerous?”
Gianni’s hand tightened on his shoulder, just slightly. “Everyone in this house is dangerous, Cedric. Him especially. He has his own agenda, and his own loyalties. I keep him around because despite his disrespect, for which he will receive due reprimand, he has his benefits. But I don’t want you caught in the middle of whatever game he's playing."
Too late for that, Cedric thought, now very aware of the note burning against his thigh. I’m already caught.