Chapter44- Valentine Charade
Lucia Red roses filled every surface of the penthouse, their perfume hanging thick in the morning air. Three hundred stems exactly – a calculated display of romance for the press photos scheduled later. Every bloom positioned with precision, every arrangement crafted to tell our careful story of political power wrapped in love’s facade.
I stood at the window, watching sunrise paint the city in shades of possibility while my reflection stared back in designer lingerie. The red lace should have felt like costume.
“The photographer arrives in an hour.” Dantes voce from the doorway made me turn. He filled the space with that lethal grace that still caught my breath, suit jacket draped over one arm, the hanging loose around his neck. His eyes darkened as they tracked over me, heat replacing his usinal. morning control. “Though if you’re planning to wear that, we might need to adjust the schedule.”
“Behave.” But I moved closer, drawn to his warmth like gravity. “We have appearances to maintain. The perfect Valentine’s Day, remember!” “Appearances.” His fingers caught my hip as I reached for his tie, the touch burning through silk.
“Your Lie is crooked,” I said instead of answering, hands working silk with practiced ease. “Can’t have the future mayor looking rumpled for the press.”
“Can’t have my wife looking thoroughly kissed either, but some sacrifices are worth making. His mouth brushed my neck, finding that spot that made my knees weak. “Don’t you think?”
“Dante.” Warning or plea, I wasn’t sure any more.
A knock interrupted whatever dangerous truth might have followed.
“Mr. Romuno?” James’s voice carried urgency through the wood. “There’s a situation with the charity gala arrangements.”
“Later,” Dante murmured against my skin, promise and threat wrapped in one word.
The day passed in a blur of calculated romance. Photos of breakfast in bed, carefully staged for maximum intimacy while revealing nothing real Press interviews about our “love story,” each answer rehearsed to perfection. Public appearances that showcased power wrapped in affection. “They make quite a couple,” I overheard one reporter tell another during the hospital wing dedication ceremony. “The way he looks at her…
“Like he’d burn down the city if she asked,” her colleague finished. “Never thought Id see Dante Romano actually fail in love”
The words hit like bullets, making my hands shake slightly as I cut the ceremonial ribbon. Dante’s arm soon settled around my waist.
“Smile, cara.” His lips brushed my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “They’re watching.”
“They’re always watching.” Lured in his arms, playing my part perfectly while something real cracked beneath the surface. “Looking for cracks in our performance.”
Chaos erupted at the entrance. Security teams moved with practiced efficiency as shouting filled the air,
“Let me through!” A familiar voice made my blood freeze. “Thave evidence of corruption of liest of
Mark?!
Dante’s body curved protectively around mine, but I was already moving. Already calculating angles and options and escapes.
“No.” I caught his arm before he could signal his teams. “Let me handle this. One last cane.”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded once
I found Mark in the hospital lobby, surrounded by security but still defiant. Still carrying that righteous anger that had once seemed so pure.
*Really?” I kept my voice soft, reasonable. “Today of all days?”
“Perfect timing, don’t you think?” He thrust a file toward me. “Evidence of more harbor project corruption. More bodies buried under legitimate business. More proof that your perfect husband is-
“Exactly who he’s always been.” I took the file without opening it. “The same man who protected his sister when scandal threatened. Who avenged my kidnapping without hesitation. Who builds his empire on loyalty as much as fear.“.
“You actually believe that? Mark’s laugh held no humor. “The great Dante Romano, caring about anything beyond power!”
“No.” I met his eyes steadily. “I know it. The way I know you’re not really here about corruption or justice or truth.”
“You’re here because you finally realized it’s real.” I stepped closer, voice dropping lower. “What you saw in those surveillance photos, what everyone sees when they watch us together it’s not just performance anymore. Is it?”
Color drained from his face as implications hit. As he finally saw the truths I’d been fighting myself.
“You really love him.”
“Yes.” The admission burned like whiskey, like freedom, like truth too long denied. “Despite everything, because of everything… yes.”
“Even knowing what he is? What he does?”
“Hell destroy you.” Mark called after me. “Turn you into something as dark as he
“No” I smiled, dangeron and real “I chose my own darkness long ago, Mark, it is you who pin *
Chapter44 Valentine Charade
Dante waited by the hospital entrance, something unreadable in his dark eyes as I approached. His hand found mine automatically, fingers linking with practiced case.
“Everything handled?”
“Perfectly.” I squeezed his hand once, grounding us both. “Shall we give them the Valentine’s Day show they came for!
His smile held heat and promise. “Always”
The rest of the day passed in careful choreography. Charity gala apprarasiers, press statements, photo opportunities each moment calculated to showcase romance wrapped in power.
Finally, as midnight approached, we returned to the penthouse still filled with roses, Still heavy with performance and possibility.
“Quite a show today.” Dante said softly, watching me slip off dangerous heels. “Very convincing”
“Always.” I moved to the window, needing space from his intensity. “That’s what you hired me for, isn’t it? The perfect political wile?”
“Is that still all this is?” He moved behind me, heat radiating against my back, “Just business?”
“You know it’s not.” The words slipped out before I could catch them.
His hands settled on my hips, turning me to face him. All that careful control had cracked, leaving something raw and real in his dark eyes,
“Say it again,” he demanded softly. “What you told him shout chooting your own darkness.”
“You heard thair
“Every word.” His thumb traced my jaw, familiar touch carrying new meaning “Now say it again.”
“Why“” 1 pressed closer despite myself.
His mouth brushed mine, barely a touch bait enough to make my pulse race. “So I can finally slop pretending this is just business.”
“Come here.” His voice dropped to that dangerous register that made heat pool in my belly. His fingers traced my jaw with deceptive gentleness, belying the tension I could feel radiating from his body. “So I can finally stop pretending this is just business.“
The admission hung, between us for one heartbeat, two, before something snapped in his careful control. His mouth claimed mine with desperate hunger, nothing like our calculated publar kisses, Our hand tangled in any hair while the other pulled me flush against hun, eliminating any pretense- of professional distance. I gasped against his lips, the sound swallowed by his growl of possession as the kiss deepened into something raw and real
My fingers clutched his shirt, needing an anchor as semation overwhelmed careful restraint. He casted of expensive scorch and dangerous promises, his tongue teasing mine in a dance.
“Dante.” Warning or plea, I wasn’t sure anymore. My lips felt bruised, my body burning everywhere we touched.
“I know” His forehead pressed against mine. “I know,“
