Chapter 6. I was beginning to trust him.

Camila’s POV

“Camila!”

Maya rushed toward me as soon as I reached the cafeteria, throwing her arms around me. I laughed softly and hugged her back.

“You’re here,” she said, pulling away. “Evan has been looking for you since first period.”

“Is he all right?” I asked, remembering Dante’s fist connecting with Evan’s jaw the day before.

“For the most part.” Maya rubbed the back of her neck. “But I think he wants to talk to you.”

Before I could answer, her expression changed.

“Oh no. They’re coming.”

I looked over her shoulder and saw Ryan walking toward us with Evan and the rest of the football team. They moved through the hallway like they owned it. Everyone at school worshiped those boys, and most students immediately stepped aside whenever they passed.

Evan’s bruised face caught my attention first. A deep purple mark covered one side of his jaw, fading into blue near his cheekbone. The sight made my stomach twist.

Ryan stopped in front of us.

“Maya, go wait somewhere else,” he ordered.

“She’s my friend, so I’m not going anywhere,” Maya replied.

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “I said move.”

The sharpness in his voice made Maya flinch. I had seen Ryan act possessive before, but he had never been this aggressive in front of everyone.

“Back off,” I warned him.

His attention shifted to me. “Your little mafia boyfriend ruined Evan’s face. Now he can’t play in the championship next week.”

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” Ryan stepped closer. “Evan got hurt because he tried to defend you.”

I moved backward until my shoulders met the lockers. The hallway had gone quiet around us. Students watched from a safe distance, too afraid to interfere.

“Ryan, take one more step and you’ll regret it.”

I heard the warning in my own voice, but I didn’t take it back. My brothers had spent years teaching me how to defend myself. They always told me to stay light on my feet, keep space between me and my opponent, and never let fear control my body.

Maya stepped between us. “Ryan, stop this.”

“Stay out of it.”

He shoved her aside.

Maya stumbled and hit the floor.

Something inside me snapped.

“No one touches her.”

I slapped him across the face.

The sound echoed through the hallway.

Ryan slowly turned his head back toward me. His expression had changed from anger to humiliation.

“You’re going to regret that,” he said.

He swung at me.

I ducked beneath his arm and drove my fist into his jaw. The impact sent a sharp sting through my knuckles, but I barely felt it over the rush of adrenaline in my veins.

Someone screamed. A crowd gathered near the lockers, but no teacher appeared.

Ryan recovered quickly and charged at me again. I stepped aside, letting his fist cut through empty air. He cursed and swung with his other hand, but I moved out of reach.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The hallway blurred around us. All I could see was Ryan’s angry face and the way his hands kept reaching for me.

He was bigger than me, but he was careless. Every time he missed, his balance shifted. His anger made him reckless.

I kept moving, waiting for the right opening.

When he lunged again, I caught the front of his jersey. His fist clipped my mouth, splitting my lip, but I held on.

Blood filled my mouth.

“You hit like a girl,” I said with a smile.

Ryan’s face twisted with rage. He tried to pull away, but I hooked my foot behind his ankle and shoved him backward.

He lost his balance and crashed onto the floor. His head struck the tiles with a sickening crack.

The entire hallway went silent.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then the football players rushed forward and helped Ryan to his feet. He looked dazed, one hand pressed to the back of his head while blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

I touched my lip and winced. I hadn’t realized how badly he had hit me.

“Camila?”

Dante’s voice cut through the crowd.

I turned and saw him standing at the end of the hallway.

His gaze moved from my bleeding mouth to Ryan, then to Evan’s bruised face. The anger in his expression deepened with every second.

“Well,” I thought, “this is going to be a problem.”

Ryan saw Dante approaching and immediately paled.

Dante walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps. The football players tried to move Ryan away, but Ryan stumbled as he backed down the hall.

It didn’t matter.

Dante reached him, grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him against the wall.

A gasp moved through the crowd.

“You were brave enough to put your hands on her,” Dante said, his voice dangerously calm. “Let’s see how brave you are when you face me.”

Ryan’s hands closed around Dante’s wrist. “I didn’t…”

“Would you like to finish that sentence?”

Ryan shook his head.

Dante released his throat but seized his jaw instead, forcing him to look directly at him.

“If you ever touch Camila again, you won’t get the chance to walk away.”

Ryan nodded frantically.

Dante let him go. Ryan dropped against the wall, coughing while his teammates pulled him away.

Dante returned to me. His hand settled around my waist, firm but careful.

“I shouldn’t have left you here after what happened yesterday,” he muttered. “Come on. We’re going home.”

I didn’t argue.

We left the school with every eye following us.

Halfway to the car, Dante stopped.

“There’s blood on your chin.”

He pulled a black silk handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the blood from my skin. His touch was surprisingly careful, completely different from the violence I had just witnessed.

I stayed still while he cleaned the cut on my lip.

His white shirt was stained with my blood. A deep crease formed between his eyebrows as he stared at it.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

I shook my head. Speaking made my lip throb.

Dante studied me for another moment before opening the passenger door. I climbed inside, and he walked around to the driver’s side.

The ride home was quiet.

His hands remained tight around the steering wheel, his knuckles pale. I could feel his anger filling the car, but this time it wasn’t directed at me.

“I’ll look at your lip when we get back,” he said. “If it needs stitches, I’ll take care of it. Then I’ll bring you to see your brothers.”

I glanced at him. “Don’t you have a driver?”

“I do.”

“Then why are you driving?”

“I have arms and legs.” His eyes stayed on the road. “Using someone else to do everything for me seems lazy.”

Despite the pain in my mouth, I almost smiled.

“You’re strange.”

His gaze flicked toward me for half a second. “You’ve known that since the day we met.”

I looked out the window, pretending to focus on the passing streets.

The truth was, I was more aware of him than anything outside the car. The strength in his hands. The tension in his shoulders. The dark tattoos disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt.

Dante Moretti was dangerous. Everyone knew it.

But as he drove me home with my blood on his clothes, I couldn’t stop wondering whether the Mafia Devil was becoming dangerous for an entirely different reason.

Maybe the real threat wasn’t that Dante would hurt me.

Maybe it was that I was beginning to trust him.