Chapter 5

The door of the car slammed shut behind me with a soft finality, the sound echoing in the quiet night. The hum of the engine was a steady rhythm beneath me, but it couldn’t settle the whirlwind inside my chest. The city outside was a blur of lights, but I stayed still, trying to ground myself in the moment.

I had done it. I’d struck a deal with Caruso. 

I’d held my ground. 

And yet, even now, my heart was still racing from the confrontation on the rooftop.

I’d stood my ground. But why did it feel like my legs were made of glass now?

I gripped the edge of the seat harder than I meant to, the leather cold beneath my fingers. My thoughts were tangled, and the silence between Dante and me only made everything feel sharper. His presence pressed against me, even in the stillness of the car.

I didn’t look at him. Not yet. Because I knew if I did, I’d give away how much that encounter with Caruso had rattled me. I didn’t need him to see that.

“You didn’t tell me you knew how to strike a deal.” His voice was low, smooth. Too smooth. But there was something underneath it. Something that made the words feel like a challenge, or maybe even… approval?

I didn’t want to answer too quickly. I needed to seem calm. To keep the upper hand.

“I didn’t know I had to tell you.” The words came out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t help it. It was how I protected myself, a quick defense, a bite before I could be bitten.

I could feel his gaze, even though I refused to look up. His eyes were on me, like he was trying to figure out everything beneath my surface.

There was a flicker of something in his expression. A small, satisfied twist of his lips.

“Touché.”

The word was like a quiet acknowledgment, but it didn’t make me feel any better. If anything, it made the tension between us heavier. He was watching me, waiting for me to slip, to show him something.

I kept my gaze fixed on the city outside, not trusting myself to meet his eyes. If I did, I’d be lost.

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy between us. I could feel Dante’s eyes on me, but I refused to meet his gaze. There was a tension now, a quiet weight that hadn’t been there before. It pressed against my chest, suffocating, but I wasn’t going to let him see how much I was affected.

“Let’s forget about that,” Dante’s voice broke the silence, smooth and dismissive. He didn’t linger on what had happened with Caruso, as if it was a minor issue, and I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or frustrated by it.

I nodded stiffly, not trusting myself to speak. But he didn’t let it go, not fully.

“Tomorrow’s the party,” he continued, the words deliberate, like he was trying to draw me back into his world. “You’ll need to look the part.”

I bristled slightly at the mention of the event. The business party was too important. I wasn’t sure what Dante expected from me there. Would I be expected to play some part in his world? I wasn’t prepared for that.

“I’m fine, Dante. I can handle myself,” I said, trying to keep the irritation from my voice. It wasn’t like I wanted to make a fuss. But I hated the thought of being forced into a mold I didn’t fit.

Dante didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, I thought maybe he would let me have this one. But then he leaned back in his seat, his gaze sharp as ever.

“I’ve already assigned some people to help you,” he said, his tone final, as though the decision had already been made and there was no room for argument.

“Help me with what?” I asked, confusion creeping into my voice.

“To give you a makeover,” he replied, his gaze steady. “They’ll take care of everything.”

I froze. “What? No. I can do it myself.” The words came out before I could stop them. The thought of someone else managing every detail, of having people at my disposal to handle something as personal as my appearance, felt wrong.

But Dante didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to trust me on this.” His voice was calm, almost patient. It was the kind of tone that told me he wasn’t going to back down.

I crossed my arms, leaning back in my seat, trying to regain some control. “I’m not some… trophy for display, Dante.”

His gaze flickered to me, sharp, but there was no anger in it only something else, something I couldn’t quite place. “This is business, Sera. You’ll be fine.” His lip curled slightly, the hint of a reassuring smile.

I could feel the weight of his words, the finality in his tone. I was about to argue again, but something inside me told me it would be pointless. I had no choice in the matter.

“Fine,” I muttered through clenched teeth, the word almost a concession. “But I’m not happy about it.” I shook my head in frustration and took a sigh.

Dante’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “You’ll get used to it.” He nodded, as if the matter was already settled.

I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to feel comforted or unsettled by that. But the rest of the ride passed in silence, and I was left to stew in my own thoughts, the city rushing past as I tried to wrap my mind around the evening ahead and what Dante really expected of me.

The ride back to the Moretti Estate was a blur. I barely had time to process everything that had happened with Caruso before the gentle hum of the car’s engine lulled me into a quiet nap. I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, but exhaustion had crept in, and before I knew it, I was drifting off.

The warmth of the leather seat was comforting, and I allowed myself to sink deeper into the soft embrace of sleep. But my brief reprieve didn’t last long.

“Sera,” Dante’s voice, low and steady, broke through the haze of sleep. His hand gently shook my shoulder, and I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my mind. I felt dizzy as I sat up, the world still spinning slightly. “Hey, wake up,” Dante’s voice was closer now, and I could hear the faintest trace of concern in it, though his usual coolness was still there. “We’re here.” He said while still shaking my shoulder.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to get my bearings, the sudden movement making my head swim. I had barely adjusted before the car came to a stop, and the door was being opened by the valet.

I stumbled slightly as I stepped out, still disoriented from the nap. My legs felt like they were made of jelly, and I nearly lost my balance, swaying toward the edge.

Before I could fully fall, I felt a strong hand grip my arm, steadying me.

“Careful,” Dante said, his voice low and commanding. His hand was firm on my arm, preventing me from crashing into the ground. The guard, who had rushed over to assist, froze, clearly unsure of what to do.

But Dante didn’t wait for the guard’s help. He gently but firmly placed his arm around me, his hand going to the small of my back, guiding me with a sense of authority I couldn’t argue with.

“I’ve got her,” Dante said, his tone leaving no room for dispute. The guard gave a quick nod, and Dante continued walking me toward the entrance of the estate.

I felt a little off-balance, both physically and mentally, but I couldn’t bring myself to push him away. Not when his presence was the only thing keeping me upright. We made our way inside, Dante’s arm still around me as I clung to him more out of necessity than comfort.

When we reached my room, Dante paused, his gaze flickering over me. “You’ll be fine,” he said with a half-smile, as though trying to reassure me. “Can you… make it through tomorrow’s party?” His question caught me off guard. I was still dizzy from the nap, barely holding it together.

“Yeah… I can,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleepiness. My eyelids felt heavy, and before I even realized it, I’d already drifted back into slumber.

I woke up sometime later, disoriented and blinking in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The room was quiet, and for a moment, I forgot where I was. The weight of my office dress still hung on me, and I sat up, feeling the remnants of sleep tugging at me.

I glanced around and realized I was still in the clothes I had worn to the office earlier. I went to the bathroom only to notice myself in the mirror that my makeup was gone.

Wait... MY MAKEUP IS GONE?

My foundation, eyeliner, and lipstick is completely removed! 

I blinked in surprise, my mind sluggish from sleep, and looked toward the small desk beside the bed. There, neatly arranged, was a bottle of makeup remover and some cotton pads.

The realization hit me like a sudden wave. 

Had Dante done this? 

I couldn’t help but blush at the thought. 

Did he… help me clean up?

I shook my head to clear the thoughts. My mind was still foggy, and I needed to focus on something else. I needed to freshen up, so I stood and made my way to the bathroom, my mind racing.

The cool touch of the bathroom mirror felt like a slap of reality, and I quickly went through my evening routine, washing my face and applying my nighttime skincare. I couldn’t help but think again about how Dante had removed my makeup. 

Why?

But the questions were fleeting, and the exhaustion hit me again, my body calling out for rest. After finishing my routine, I returned to my bed, slipping under the covers with a sigh.

I had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was for sure: I wasn’t going to be able to avoid the makeover, no matter how much I tried.

The morning came too soon. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was until I woke up, and the weight of the entire situation hit me all over again. The pressure, the uncertainty, the constant feeling of being caught in Dante’s world. Everything was overwhelming. And today, I had to be ready for the party.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was already late morning, and I had barely enough time to gather myself. Dante’s makeover plan had been set into motion the moment I fell asleep, whether I was ready for it or not.

Before I could even get out of bed, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Miss Leone, are you awake?” came the voice of... I guess the stylist. I could tell by the tone she had been instructed to get to work immediately.

I sighed, not even sure how I felt about it all. There was no point in stalling. I could only hope this would be over before I completely lost my mind.

“I’m up,” I called out, swinging my legs off the bed, still groggy from sleep. I rubbed my face as I stood up, trying to shake off the last remnants of drowsiness.

The door opened softly, and the stylist walked in with a team of assistants, all smiles and energy. They moved with purpose, barely giving me a moment to process their presence before they were already getting to work.

“Good morning, Miss Leone. We’ll take care of everything today. Just relax.” Her voice was calm, almost too cheerful, but I didn’t have the energy to protest.

They ushered me into another room, which I assumed was the styling room. They sat me down in front of a mirror, the bright lights surrounding it casting a soft glow. The team got to work immediately. One assistant began brushing through my hair, gently untangling the knots that had formed during my sleep, while another started pulling out various beauty products, creams, sprays, powders, and foundations, arranging them neatly on the counter.

I could feel the hands on my face, the makeup being applied with precision. My skin felt heavy with each layer, but I didn’t complain. I didn’t have the strength to argue. All I could think about was how I had no choice in the matter.

While they worked on me, I could feel the pressure mounting. 

This wasn’t just about looking good—it was about fitting into a world I didn’t understand. 

A world I didn’t even want to be part of.

The stylist stepped back for a moment, assessing her work. “We’ll need to change your outfit,” she said, her voice a little more upbeat now that the makeup was almost finished. “Something elegant, something that will make an impression.”

I barely had time to respond before they began undoing the buttons of my pajamas, lifting it off my shoulders and slipping it down my arms. The fabric felt alien against my skin, a stark contrast to the casual outfits I was used to. Before I could adjust to the change, they were already slipping me into something far more expensive.

The black satin dress from the boutique yesterday slid over me like a second skin. It hugged my curves perfectly, the fabric cool and smooth against my skin. The dress was a tube cut, accentuating my figure while exuding an understated elegance. My hair was pulled into a messy bun, strands carefully left loose to frame my face, while a pair of delicate black satin gloves were slipped onmatching my dress, the fabric soft and refined. A rhinestone-studded diamond ring caught the light as I moved, and a sleek, sparkly bag with faux diamonds added the perfect touch of glamour.

As the final touches were applied, one of the stylists sprayed me with a rich, heady perfume that lingered in the air around me, completing the transformation. The dress complimented my bold red lips and the foxy eye makeup, which enhanced the sharpness of my gaze. When they turned me to face the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. The reflection was elegant, poised, and far removed from the girl I had been just hours ago.

The makeup was flawless, the dress made me look like someone I wasn’t, and the high heels I was given made me feel taller, more exposed. I hardly recognized myself.

“How do you feel?” the stylist asked, her tone almost too sweet.

I stared at my reflection, feeling out of place in my own skin. “Like someone else entirely,” I murmured, barely hearing my own voice.

The stylist smiled approvingly. “That’s the idea. You look incredible. Dante will be pleased.”

I didn’t respond. The idea of Dante seeing me like this made my stomach twist in discomfort. I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t ready for the attention, or the expectation.

“You’re all set,” the stylist said, as if everything had been perfectly executed, as if there was nothing left to do but show up and smile.

“Excuse me, is Sera—”

I turned toward the voice just as the door opened wider, and there he was, walking into the room like he owned it, oh, he literally owned it. “Oh… wow,” he murmured, almost under his breath.

It was Dante.

His eyes locked onto mine, then slowly traced every inch of me pausing on the curve of the dress, the gloves, the red lips. The way he looked at me made heat bloom in my chest, subtle but undeniable. I blinked, suddenly aware of everything how I was standing, how I was breathing. For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

A small, nervous smile tugged at my lips, uninvited. I didn’t even know why I was smiling—maybe to break the silence, maybe to cover up how my heart was racing. But Dante didn’t say a word. He just kept looking at me, that unreadable expression in his eyes tightening the air between us.

And then… he took a step closer. He leaned in, his breath brushing against the shell of my ear. The warmth of it made my spine stiffen, made the world feel suddenly too still.

"You look beautiful..."