Chapter Nine
Evangeline
A lifesize animatronic witch laughs wickedly as I open the door to the neighborhood coffee shop.
Normally, I would love the sight because it’s so realistic and appropriate for my favorite Halloween season, but not today.
Despite the comforting smells of coffee beans and espresso hitting me when I step inside, I have a strange feeling of dread crawling up my spine.
I know someone’s watching, because I can feel their eyes on me.
I don’t need to turn to know someone’s there. There is a man by the counter who stays too still and seems too interested in me. His gaze snaps to mine, and he quickly looks away. My pulse hammers, and I force myself to move forward, my voice shaky when I place my order.
Eager to get my latte, leave, and go back to the safety of the pharmacy, I snatch my order from the barista.
“Have a great day!” she says in a cheery voice, but her look says I’m acting strange. I mumble a quick “thank you” and hustle out the door, head down.
The sunlight outside is glaring and bright. My hands tremble as I step out onto the sidewalk. The street is packed with people, so surely nothing can happen out here, I tell myself. It’s too crowded.
Then, a rough voice says, “Dolcezza.”
That voice, dark and hoarse, sets every one of my nerves on fire. I spin toward the alley, and there he stands. Dante. His suit is all black, his eyes cold, and he reminds me of a specter hiding in the shadows.
“You’re following me,” I hiss in an overly loud voice, laced with fear, looking around us.
He lifts a single finger, beckoning me. I obey, drawn forward like prey into a trap.
In only three strides, his hand slams onto my wrist, in his iron grip, dragging me inside the alley and against the brick wall. My coffee sloshes over the rim and drops, forgotten at my feet.
His breath ghosts across my ear. “Of course I’m following you,” he rasps. “Do you think I’d leave you unguarded? With the Scarletta vultures circling? With your uncle in debt to men who want you broken?”
I can feel the rough bricks pressing through my thin sweatshirt, a reminder that I’m in a dark alley with a dangerous mobster. I choke out, “Was that man in the shop … yours?”
“What man?” Dante growls, grasping my arm to pull me deeper into the alley, peering behind me, looking for a threat and placing himself between me and any potential danger.
“Th … there was someone in the coffee shop, watching me. I thought maybe he worked for you.”
“My men are ghosts, cara mia. You won’t see them, but they are everywhere. That one was not mine. He was likely Scarletta’s.”
“Who … who is that?”
Panic claws at my chest. Oh god, there are too many eyes, too many dangers all around me, surrounding me. I swallow hard. “What do they want with me?”
Dante captures my chin, tilting my face up to his. He’s so much taller that he stoops to hold my gaze and threads his fingers through my hair. “You’ll learn soon, sweet Evangeline. I’m protecting you. For now, you need to trust me. Know that I will keep you safe.”
He continues to hold my eyes with an intense stare. “Are you doing as I asked?”
I tremble. “Y … yes.” My voice cracks. His masculine scent overwhelms me, setting my blood on fire and making desire pool in my core.
He exhales, low and approving. “Good girl.” His arms tighten, folding me into his embrace, and he kisses the crown of my head. His heartbeat is steady and strong, and I inhale the warmth of him, the promise of protection, just enjoying being held. Something I’ve yearned for since my parents passed.
We linger in the quiet of the alley, lost in the moment. Eventually, I pull back, my mind spinning with so many unanswered questions I need answers to.
But as if he senses what I’m about to ask, Dante’s eyes darken, and he bends his head to mine.
Is he going to kiss me? Is this how my first kiss will happen? In a dark back alley?
I inhale to protest, “Dante…” but his hand clamps the nape of my neck, firm and demanding, pulling my face to his.
His mouth crashes onto mine, nothing soft, but a brutal claim. His lips aren’t tender; instead, his kiss is a savage invasion. He crushes me against the coarse brick, its texture pressing through my shirt as if branding me.
I whimper and make a feeble attempt to push him away, but I find I can only summon the energy to wrench him closer. His arms band around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His desire feels like a living thing, relentless and hungry.
My knees weaken, fire coiling low in my belly. I shouldn’t, but when he nips my lip and growls my name, every boundary shatters and I moan with need.
“Let me in, Evangeline. Open for me. Kiss me.”
I gasp, giving in to his demand, returning the kiss with an abandon that terrifies me.
He finally pulls back, and our breaths are ragged. Foreheads pressed together, his thumb trails over my swollen lip with possessive gentleness. “You have bewitched me, piccola strega,” he rasps. “And I don’t want to break the spell.”
I stare up, heart still hammering furiously. “I’m not afraid of you,” I whisper, both in awe and surprise. “I know I should be. Everyone is afraid of you, but I feel … drawn to you, somehow. As if I’ve known you forever.”
He curves a faint, knowing, but dangerous smile. “Perhaps we have in another life.”
That notion, tinged with fate, sends a thrill through me. “I need more, Dante. I need to know what’s happening.”
He brushes a stray lock from my face, eyes smoldering with promise and mystery. “Soon, bella. I promise. But now, you must trust me.”
His gaze sears into mine, unwavering. My blood thrums. Every instinct screams at me to run, but I can’t.
Because part of me already belongs to him.
Worst of all, I fear it’s my heart.