LOGINThe restaurant Dante chose was quiet in an intentional way. Not empty, not loud, just controlled. Soft lighting. Dark wood. The kind of place where conversations stayed where they were spoken. Nina noticed everything the moment they stepped inside.She noticed the way Dante’s hand rested at the small of her back, steady but not possessive. She noticed how his posture shifted slightly, alert in a way she had not seen before. And she noticed the man already seated in the far corner, his gaze lifting the instant they entered.“That’s him,” Dante murmured.Nina did not ask who. She already knew.They walked toward the table together. Nina could feel her heartbeat in her throat, but she kept her expression neutral. She had spent too much of her life being underestimated to waste this moment on fear.The man stood as they approached. Tall. Silver hair. Sharp eyes that assessed rather than admired.“Nina Romano,” he said smoothly. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”She met his gaze. “Funny
Nina did not sleep much that night.She lay on her side, staring at the faint glow of the city through the window, listening to Dante breathe beside her. His arm was heavy around her waist, warm and familiar, yet her thoughts kept slipping away from the comfort of his body. Chapter twelve had ended with fire and closeness, with promises spoken softly and touches that still lingered on her skin. But now, in the quiet, reality pressed in.She shifted slightly. Dante stirred.“You are awake,” he murmured, voice low and rough.“Yes,” she said. “I did not mean to wake you.”He tightened his arm around her. “You did not. You were already loud in my head.”She turned to face him. Even in the dim light, his eyes were open, watching her. There was no teasing in his expression now, no easy confidence. Just something alert and guarded.“You are thinking again,” he said.“I never stopped,” Nina replied. “We cannot pretend last night fixed everything.”Dante exhaled slowly. “I did not think it wou
The city lights outside flickered against the glass, painting the apartment in shades of gold and shadow. Nina sat on the edge of the couch, knees drawn close, heart hammering in her chest. Dante leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, and eyes that seemed to see straight through her.“You’re thinking too much,” he said, voice low, husky, teasing.“I can’t stop,” she admitted, her fingers brushing at the edge of the blanket around her. “Everything that happened today, everything we found out… it’s too much.”He walked toward her slowly, each step deliberate. “Maybe,” he murmured, “you’re thinking about me too much.”Nina’s chest fluttered. “Me? You think I—” She stopped herself, realizing her own words sounded like a confession she wasn’t ready to give.Dante closed the distance between them, leaning down so their eyes met. “Don’t pretend,” he whispered. “You feel it, don’t you?”Heat pooled in her stomach. She wanted to deny it, to push back, but she couldn’t. “I… maybe,” she a
Nina Romano did not sleep.She lay beside Dante Moretti in the quiet apartment, staring at the ceiling as the first gray light of morning filtered through the curtains. His arm was draped over her waist, heavy and warm, grounding in a way she both craved and feared. Every time she closed her eyes, the same thought returned, sharp and relentless.I was placed in his life.The idea crawled under her skin. It made every memory feel suspect. Every laugh. Every argument. Every moment she had believed was chance.Dante stirred beside her, his fingers tightening slightly against her side. He did not open his eyes, but his voice came out low and rough.“You’re awake.”“Yes,” Nina said softly.He exhaled and shifted, propping himself on one elbow so he could see her face. His expression was tired, but alert, like he had been fighting his own thoughts all night too.“You’re thinking again,” he said.She let out a breath that trembled. “I do not know how to stop.”He nodded slowly. “Me neither.”
Nina sat frozen on the edge of the couch, her hands gripping the cushion like she could hold herself together if she squeezed hard enough. Dante stood a few feet away, the shadows from the lamp casting lines across his sharp features. His eyes, usually so warm, were dark, unreadable, like he had just learned a truth that might shatter him completely.“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dante’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it carried a weight that made the air between them heavy.“I—I didn’t know how,” Nina said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know if I would even survive if I told you. I thought keeping it a secret would protect me.”Dante ran his hand through his hair, pacing in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke again. “Protect you? Or protect them? Protect the people who ruined your father’s life?”“It’s not that simple,” Nina said, finally standing, her eyes fierce now, like fire had replaced the fear. “Everything I’ve done, every step I’ve taken, was to survive
Nina did not sleep.She lay on her side facing the wall, eyes open, breath shallow, listening to the quiet rhythm of the city beyond the glass. Morning had not fully arrived yet. The room was still dim, wrapped in that fragile hour between night and day. Dante was behind her. She could feel his presence without touching him. The weight of it pressed into her back like an unanswered question.Something had shifted.She had felt it the night before. Not in his hands or his mouth or the way his voice had dropped when he said her name. It was deeper than that. Something buried under restraint. Something unfinished.Dante moved slightly, the bed dipping under his weight. He had not slept either. She knew that now. His breathing had been too controlled. Too aware.“You are awake,” he said quietly.“So are you.”He did not deny it.She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The air between them felt tight, stretched thin.“You have been watching me like you are waiting for something







