Chapter 23

If someone had told me exactly twenty four hours ago that Dante would ask to be my friend, I would have called them crazy. Especially after our heated conversation last night.

But it was happening. It was happening right before my fricken eyes. Dante Romero was asking to be my friend.

It was fricken unbelievable and highly suspicious.

Like, why?

What was his angle?

He still believed someone was paying me to mess with his life. Why would he suddenly want to become friends?

I stared at his hand and then his face, searching for a hint of deceit. The slivers of sincerity seeping out from behind his cold face tugged at my heartstrings.

Maybe he really wanted to be my friend.

‘Don’t be stupid, Olly,’ I chided myself. ‘It’s a fancy ploy to dig out your supposed secret about your aim of coming back into his life. That or to get into your pants.’

But I would humour the man. What better way to entertain myself? If he was planning on using ‘the power of friendship’ to probe into my life and find