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17: EXPOSED
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2025-12-17 19:14:40
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HIS DANGEROUS GAME 17: EXPOSED
AMARA I felt it the second his breath stalled against my skin. Not fear. Not instinct. Recognition. Dante’s fingers paused at my throat, the intimacy of the moment collapsing into something razor-sharp and lethal. His thumb brushed the pendant once, too deliberately. The pulse of green light beneath the gold casing reflected faintly in his eyes. I didn’t move. Didn’t reach for him. Didn’t lie. “Don’t,” he said quietly. Not a request. A warning. He straightened slowly, the air shifting with him. The room didn’t feel smaller, but it felt hunted. “How long,” he asked evenly, “have you been wearing surveillance on your body?” There it was. No guessing. No confusion. Straight to the throat. I exhaled, steadying myself. This was the moment every operative trained for, the exposure point. The second the mask came off. “Since before I met you,” I said calmly. His gaze snapped to mine. No shock. Only calculation. “So it’s real,” he said. “You’re
HIS DANGEROUS GAME 17: BROKEN WALLS
AMARA’S POVThe ride back to Dante’s penthouse was a blur of flashing lights, sirens echoing in the distance, and Dante’s hand gripping mine like I was the last solid thing he had left in this world.Downstairs, his men had taken control, loud radios, sharp commands, boots pounding the pavement. One of them opened a protected corridor for us, ushering Dante to move fast.Cole disappeared into the chaos like smoke, one second beside us, the next gone. Dante didn’t waste a second looking for him. His entire world was narrowed to me.By the time we reached the penthouse, my legs had stopped shaking only because I’d gone numb.Dante locked the door behind us with a force that made the walls tremble.“Amara.”His voice wasn’t cold.It wasn’t commanding.It wasn’t even angry.It was… shaken.He stepped in front of me slowly, like I was something fragile, a word I’d never let anyone use for me, and cupped my face with both hands.“You’re trembling.”His thumb brushed my cheek. “Angel, look a
HIS DANGEROUS GAME 15: SHADOWS AT HER DOOR
DANTE’S POV The city looked different at night…sharp, cold, and full of lies. Dante’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel as the black Maserati cut through the silent streets. His phone buzzed once on the dashboard, the same message glowing on the cracked screen. Lock your doors. Don’t trust anyone tonight. He’d sent it to her barely fifteen minutes ago. Now she wasn’t picking up. The data breach had been bad. His men reported it only an hour after the auction erupted into chaos. Someone had infiltrated the encrypted network they used for transfers, and her name, Amara Voss was tangled inside the codes like bait. One of his oldest allies was dead, throat slit in his own office. And on the footage recovered from the hotel lobby, a familiar face had appeared briefly, Elara. He exhaled through his nose, rage burning slow and quiet. He’d spent years building walls around himself, brick by brick, every betrayal reinforcing the concrete. But Amara had walked right th
HIS DANGEROUS GAME 14: THE DOOR BETWEEN
The air in Amara’s apartment still carried Elara’s perfume, something sharp and expensive, like poisoned honey. Her words echoed louder than the clock on the wall. “If you think you’re safe with him, you don’t know Dante at all.” Amara stood there for a long second, her heartbeat drowning everything else out. Then her phone buzzed, one single text lighting up the screen. Unknown Number: They’re watching you too. Her stomach dropped. The rational part of her mind said scam. The other part, the one that had been trained to detect hidden threats, whispered truth. She moved automatically, locking the door, pulling the curtains shut, turning off the lights. Her fingers shook. She poured herself a glass of wine, gulped, and tried to calm down. Her hands found the hem of her skirt, peeling it off. Her blouse followed. Routine. Strip. Breathe. Forget. She leaned against the kitchen counter in nothing but her underwear, letting the cool marble kiss her skin. It grounded her,
HIS DANGEROUS GAME 13: THE WOMAN IN RED
The room froze before the woman’s words could even settle. “I said, that necklace can’t be auctioned,” she repeated, her voice slicing through the hum of chatter and the clinking of champagne flutes. All heads turned. Even the air seemed to still. Dante’s hand, still hovering near Amara’s throat where he had just fastened the rare gemstone necklace, dropped slowly to his side. Across the auction hall, she stood — Elara. Every inch of her looked crafted to command attention. Her dress, a blood-red silk that clung to her curves like sin, shimmered beneath the chandeliers. A diamond pin gleamed in her hair, and her painted lips curved into something halfway between a smile and a challenge. The murmurs began. “Elara Morrow?” “Isn’t that…” “Dante Romano’s ex-fiancée?” Amara’s heart gave a startled thud. Ex-fiancée? Elara moved through the crowd with the kind of grace that only came from money, rage, and deep familiarity with power. Each step echoed on the marble floor
HIS DANGEROUS GAME 12: PRICE OF POSSESSION
The air between them thickens as soon as Dante’s eyes land on Cole’s hand resting on her shoulder. His gaze darkens, that dangerous glint flickering beneath the surface, restrained, but barely. Amara feels it immediately. That subtle shift in the room, the heat, the sudden stillness. She jerks slightly, brushing Cole’s hand away in a motion that looks almost casual. Almost. “Oh, uh…Cole,” she begins quickly, forcing a smile. “He’s my neighbor. I ran into him earlier, and he needed a quick…favor. So I told him I’d be here with Marco, and he came by.” Cole chuckles under his breath. Smooth. Unbothered. “Yeah, neighbor,” he echoes with a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I was just showing her something.” Dante’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes do all the talking. Calculating. Dangerous. He steps closer, his presence swallowing the room. “Your neighbor,” he repeats, tone low and measured, “must live in a very exclusive part of town if he can find Marco’s priva
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