Chapter 6

I swallowed hard, heat blooming in my chest. I didn't know how to answer, so I just gave him a nervous smile, awkward, unsure, a little too wide. But Dante didn't seem to mind.

He offered his arm, slowly, like he was giving me a choice.

I hesitated only a second before slipping my hand through the crook of his elbow. His warmth was steady against me, grounding in a way I hadn't expected.

We walked in silence toward the elevator, the soft click of my heels echoing in the hallway. I could feel his eyes on me again, a quiet weight on the side of my face.

"Red lips suit you," he said suddenly, voice low. "But it's the way you carry yourself... that's what people will remember."

I didn't know how to respond to that either. My fingers tightened slightly around his arm.

He leaned closer as the elevator doors slid open, the warm brush of his hand against the small of my back sending shivers straight down my spine.

"You're dangerous like this," he murmured, and I felt my breath catch. "If you keep looking at me like that, I might forget the entire purpose of today."

I turned to him, trying not to laugh, trying not to get pulled into whatever this was between us. Our faces were close. Too close.

He dipped his head in mine, just a little. My eyes flicked to his lips.

And then—

The elevator dinged. I straightened up quickly, glancing at Dante as he adjusted his necktie.

A middle-aged woman janitor shuffled in, pushing a heavy cart of cleaning supplies. She looked startled for a moment, caught between awkwardness and exhaustion.

The woman gave me a soft, grateful smile as she struggled with one of the mop buckets that nearly tipped.

"Let me help," I said quickly, stepping forward and steadying the cart before it could topple.

"Oh, thank you, sweetheart," she said, brushing a strand of hair back with a tired hand. "Most people just look the other way."

"It's nothing," I told her, offering a small smile of my own.

She fixed her cart just to fit at the elevator, when she looked up again and realized who stood silently behind me, her expression shifted. Her eyes widened slightly as she straightened her back. Then, with quiet respect, she gave a slight bow of her head toward Dante.

He didn't say a word. Just nodded once, cool, composed, unreadable.

The woman met my gaze one more time before exiting on the next floor. That subtle bow stayed with me.

What kind of man are you, Dante Moretti?

The elevator ride down felt longer than it should have. When we arrived at the ground floor of the Moretti building, the tension between us remained, but it had changed. Something unspoken lingered in the air. 

When we finally stepped into the car waiting for us downstairs, I slid in beside him, smoothing the satin of my dress. As the driver pulled away, Dante looked at me sideways.

"Try not to fall asleep on me again," he said with a teasing grin. "I won't always be around to catch you."

I laughed, the sound slipping out before I could stop it. "No promises."

As we made our way toward the venue I was just  looking outside the window to have a gaze on the city I asked myself 'so, this is what a city girl feels like', and after a pause something ran into my head, I finally asked the question I'd been holding onto since last night.

"Was it you?" I instantly looked at him that made him look at me. "Who removed my makeup?"

Dante's brow lifted. He didn't look away. "Yeah."

I blinked. "Why?"

"You were dead asleep. I figured if you woke up with it still on, you'd complain the whole day about breakouts." A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "So I did it myself. Just in case." He looks so proud doing that.

I looked at him for a long moment, caught between surprise and something softer.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

Because for once, I wasn't trying to figure him out. I just let myself feel it, whatever this was between us.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a sleek, modern building , that I assume is a hotel. The entrance was lit up with golden lights, and I could hear the low hum of voices and music filtering out from within. People in elegant attire were gathered outside, a mix of businessmen and socialites, all dressed to the nines.

The driver stepped out and opened the door for us. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. This was where the masks came off, in a sense, but also where they went on.

Dante's hand extended toward me as I slid out of the car. I took it automatically, my fingers brushing against his as I stood up, my heels clicking against the pavement. I caught the faint scent of his cologne, the same rich, deep scent that had seemed to cling to him the entire time I'd known him.

"Ready?" Dante asked, his voice steady but there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

I nodded, taking in the glamour around me. "I think so." I said as I took a deep breath.

We walked toward the entrance together, a steady pace that matched the rhythm of the music pulsing from the inside. I could feel the eyes of the crowd on us as we passed, but I didn't know if they were looking at me or him, or us.

Inside, the atmosphere was exactly as I'd expected. People were laughing, talking, and the room was adorned with extravagant chandeliers, gold accents, and the clinking of glasses. The air was thick with perfume and expensive wine.

As we made our way through the crowd, Dante's hand never left my back, warm and constant, guiding me through the sea of strangers. We reached the main area, and he finally spoke again.

"You look... perfect," he murmured in my ear, his voice hushed but unmistakable. "Like you belong here."

I blinked, a little thrown off by the way his words felt. "I don't know about that."

Before I could say more, a couple of people came up to Dante, exchanging pleasantries and shaking his hand. As I stood off to the side, I couldn't help but notice how he effortlessly commanded the space around him. People smiled at him, greeted him like an old friend, and yet there was something cold about his gaze, something that made me wonder just how much of this world he really wanted to be a part of.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice a woman walking toward me until she smiled warmly and introduced herself.

"Sera, right?" she said, her voice smooth and warm, almost too warm. "I'm Helena."

She was tall and striking, her gown catching the light with every step like it was made of starlight. Her smile was perfect, her voice pleasant, but there was something beneath it, like the sweetness was a costume she wore too well. Her gaze flicked down to my dress, then up again, assessing. Judging me, I guess.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," she said, glancing at Dante who's still talking to the other men with a gleam in her eye. Then she got my arm that made me startled and dragged me two feet away from Dante. "I've heard so much about you."

I shook my arm slightly to remove her hand from mine, I forced a smile, polite but uncertain. "It's nice to meet you too."

She stepped closer. Too close, near my ear.

"You'll never fit in here," Helena whispered, her lips barely moving. Her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and gleaming with amusement. Then she gave a tiny smirk, like she’d just delivered the punchline to an inside joke.

"What?" I breathed out, blinking in confusion with furrowed eyebrows.

But she was already turning away, gliding back into the crowd like nothing happened. Her heels clicked against the marble floor like punctuation. I looked back where she was heading.

Dante returned just a moment later, his brows pulling together as he looked at me.

"Are you okay?"

I quickly looked down, blinking fast. My eyes were burning. 

No, don’t cry, not here, not in front of him.

"Just... something got in my eye," I mumbled, brushing at my lashes and forcing a small laugh. "Maybe the shimmer from my eyeshadow."

Dante didn’t look convinced. His gaze lingered on me a second longer, then he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

But before I could continue the conversation, a waiter came by with a tray of champagne flutes, and I took one without thinking. I wasn't sure if I needed it for courage, or just to blend in.

I found myself standing there alone again as more men came to Dante. Staring at my reflection in a nearby mirror. The woman was right, I didn't quite belong here. The expensive fabrics, the diamonds glittering in every direction, everything about this place felt like a world I wasn't part of. But the funny thing was, Dante seemed to fit right in. He moved like a king among pawns, unbothered by the attention.

I was still deep in thought when he returned, his hand finding mine again. His fingers brushed over mine, and for the briefest moment, I forgot about everything else.

"You look like you're thinking again," he said, his voice warm but knowing. "You're not planning to run off, are you?"

I shook my head, a little smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "No, just... thinking."

"About what?" he asked, his brow dipping slightly, fingers tightening just a little around mine. There was a softness in his voice now, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

I paused, considering my words. "About this... about you." I glanced up at him, then back down, my grip tightening around my glass. "About how you just belong here."

Dante raised an eyebrow, but didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned slightly, his attention shifting as a man approached again, clearly eager to speak with him. I knew better than to interrupt, so I just stayed where I was, watching the scene unfold around me.

Dante had a way of controlling everything, from the room to the people in it, and maybe, just maybe, me too.

Then suddenly, the music changed. 

The jazzy, elegant melody that had filled the room faded, replaced by something slower, smoother—almost dreamlike. A gentle hum of strings and piano swelled from the speakers, and the room seemed to take a breath.

I looked around us, people began turning toward the center of the ballroom. Couples joined hands and made their way to the dance floor, laughter floating like champagne bubbles.

Dante turned to me again, his gaze softening.

"Dance with me."

He didn't wait for an answer. His fingers brushed against mine, and I let go of the glass without thinking. He caught my hand, warm and steady, and led me toward the center of the room.

My heart was racing.

Not from nerves, at least, not only, but from the way he looked at me. Like nothing else existed. Like I wasn’t a pawn in this glittering world of shadows, but something... real. Someone he saw.

He pulled me gently into his arms, one hand resting on my waist, the other holding my hand just the right amount of firm. I followed his lead as we swayed into the rhythm.

Dante leaned in, his breath warm against my temple. Instead of speaking right away, his hand rose slowly, fingers brushing my cheek as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch lingered for a moment, thumb grazing my skin like he didn’t want to let go.

“You see all this gold and glitter?” he murmured, his voice a soft murmur just for me. “None of it even compares.”

My breath caught.

He tilted his head, eyes locked on mine like I was the only one in the room worth looking at. Like I was already enough.

“You don’t need to fit into this world, Sera,” he added, quieter this time. “You outshine it.”

I let out a soft breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. Of course he’d say that. He always knew how to pull me back just before I slipped too far into my own head. "You really think that?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned slightly, lifting my chin gently with two fingers so I’d look at him. His eyes weren’t teasing anymore, they were serious, warm, unwavering.

"I don’t think it," he said, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek. "I know it. The moment you walked in, they all noticed. Not because of what you wore or who you came with... but because you're you. Sera, you don’t need to act like them, or dress like them, or shrink yourself to fit their world."

My chest tightened at his words.

"What if they never accept me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching mine. "Then screw them." A flicker of a smile curved his lips. "Because I do. I see you. And that’s never going to change."

I blinked fast, trying to push back the sudden sting in my eyes. But he saw it anyway.

"You're not tearing up, are you?" he teased gently.

I laughed, wiping quickly at my eyes. "No. Just… something in my eye."

His smile softened, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Then I’ll protect you from that too."

We moved in slow circles under the warm chandelier lights, the rest of the world fading to a blur of silk and perfume. For a moment, everything felt like a fairytale. As if the air itself held its breath for us.

I looked up at him.

His jaw was sharp beneath the light. His eyes dark and unreadable, but soft just for me.

I forgot about Helena. I forgot about my dress, my nerves, even my brother for a second. All I saw was him. The man who terrified everyone else... holding me like I was something breakable.

"Sera," he murmured, and it sounded like a promise.

"Hmm?" I hummed and tilted my head like a puppy.

I didn’t know what he was about to say, maybe I didn’t want to know. I could already feel something shifting in the air around us, something tightening. Like a thread stretched too far.

And then—

A flash of movement to the side.

A waiter bumped past two dancing guests, nearly spilling a tray of drinks.

But it wasn’t the stumble that caught my attention.

It was the look in the waiters eyes.

Wide. Darting.

And tucked beneath the edge of the waiters blazer—

A glint of silver.

My body tensed, heart lurching as Dante’s hand tightened just slightly around mine.

I looked at him and I think he saw it too.

"Is that a gun?" I whispered to myself.