Chapter 23- A Quiet Storm
Lucia The glass walls of Dante’s penthouse bathroom reflected soft ambient light, casting a serene glow over the marble floors and gold–accented Fixtures. Steam billowed in the air an the rainfall shower cascaded over my skin, washing away the tension of the day. Beneath my feet, the heated floors radiated subtle warmth, a koury so snderstated yet impossible to ignore. It was the kind of derail you took for gramed in Danic’s world—a world of carefully curated wealth and quiet excess.
I reached for the Hennes Jardin collection shower gel, its frosted glass bottle heavy and cold in my hand. The scent of green mandarin and jasmine filled the air as I worked the gel imo a lather, the soft bubbles gliding over my skin. Each movement felt deliberate, almost meditative. My hands smoothed over my arms, my neck, my collarbone, pausing at the faint marks Dante had left behind.
His hands. His lips. His control.
I closed my eyes, letting the warm water rinse away the suds as I tilted my head back. My hair carried the faint fragrance of bergamot and white tea luxuries and decadent.
I wanted to focus on the ritual, to immerse myself in this moment of indulgence. Yes, my thoughts refused to quiet
The flash drive.
For some reason,
Thadn’t looked at it. Not yet.
persistent reminder of the secrets it promised to reveal. Mark’s words had haunted me since the gallery. let my guard down. Evidence of Dame’s dealings. His darker side.
11 lay hidden in my clutch, its weight echning in the quiet moments when
And yet.. hadn’ı Lalready accepted that darkness?
I rinsed my hair, watching the bubbles it down the draus. I didn’t want that flash drive to become a wedge between us. I didn’t want to think about when it contained, what i might force me to confrom. But I sad to ask him. Dante’s world was built on power and control, but I couldn’t be part of it without honesty. Who knowing the man behind the empire.
When the water turned lukewarm. I turned off the shower and stepped out the plush hatheist, reaching for a thick white towel cimbroidered with Dante’s initials Wrapping it around my body, Feaught sight of my reflection in the floor–to–ceiling mirror. My skin was flushed from the heat, my hair dripping dark rivulets down my back.
The clawfoot tub in the cemer of the room beckoned me already filled with water and fragrant oils. I had set it up before my shower, loving I would need more than just a quick rinse to calon my restless mind:
As I sank into the tub, the warmth enveloped me, and the scent of Diptyque’s Baies both oil fled the room–a delicate mix of blackeram leaves and roses. My muscles loosened, the tension in my shoulders melting away as let my body flow.
Irested my head against the edge of the usb, my eyes drifting shut.
Dod 1 want Dome to be perfect No. I knew he wasn’t. I duin’t want the polished mark he wore for the world. What I wanted was honesty. I wanted him to tell me the truth, no matter how clark it was. Because somewhere between the passion and the power struggles, he had become more than just my fance.
But could handle the trut
I sighed, sinking deeper into the water, letting incradle me. The idea of confronting him terrified me, not because I feared his amwers, but because I feared what they might mean for us.
Once my fingers begin to prune, I forced myself to move, to break free from the comfort of the tub. I droned the water and stepped onto the bathmat, wrapping myself in mother towel
The cream melted into my skin as massaged it gently over my fee, the fini scem of ocean and luxury lingering in the air, until my reflection
red back at me— polished and composed. My armor
In the Eichen, the scent of roasted rosemary chicken and freshly baked bread filled the air. The chef had outdone himself, as always. Dante stood at the head of the dining table, a glass of red wine in his hand. His sua jacket was gone, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms. He looked every bit abe mafia billionaire CEO–limpeccably dressed yet entirely at ease in his domain.
Join me, car” he said, gesturing to the seal across from him.
Thesitated for only a moment before taking my place.
The table was set with crisp white linens and for chins, the kind of understated elegance that only old money could achieve. The candles cast a soft glow, their flames dancing in the low light
As the first course was served–creamy burrata with heirloom tomatoes–1 decided to test the waters. “We need to tak
Dante’s eyes niet imine, dark and unreadable, “Noc over dinner,”
“It’s important. ”
“So is enjoying this meal,” he said smoothly, unking a sip of his wine. “We can discuss whatever’s on your mind after we eat.”
Histone left no room for argument, and I bit back a sigh. For all his charm and composure, Dante had a stubborn streak a mile wide.
The dinner proceeded with polite conversation. He asked about the youts center, his interest genuine despite the tension lingering between to. I told him about the latest design adjustments, the permits, and the
he fundraising efforts.
Seling
Chapter 23–A Quiet Storm
He listened intently, his focus unwavering, as if nothing else in the world mattered. It was one of the things that had drawn me to him—his ability to make you feel like the cemer of his universe, even if only for a moment.
By the time dessert arrived–dark chocolate souffle with a hint of orange–the atmosphere had softened. Dame leaned back in his chair, warching
me with a small, enigmatic smile.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he said, his voice low and smooth.
I set down my fork, meeting his gaze “I’m thinking”
“About?”
“You.
His smile widened, though his eyes remained serious. “Then I hope your thoughts are kind, cara”
“They’re complicated,“ Tadmitted.
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he studied me. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you”
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken word hanging between us.
And I knew that once the plates were cleared, once the wine glasses were emptied, we would have to face the storm that had been brewing since the gallery. But for now, we remained in this fragile moment of peace, the quiet before the inevitable confrontation
And couldn’t decide if was ready to break ir..
