Chapter 10 An Affair
“What’s wrong, Anya?” He bent down beside her and gently pulled her up by the arm.
She looked up at him, her panic easing slightly at the concern on his face. “It’s nothing… Just my lens fell out. I can’t find it.”
Without hesitation, Dante wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.
Her eyes widened in surprise. They were surrounded by his industry peers—people talking, watching. But he seemed completely unfazed.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said quietly. “Stay close to me. You’ll be fine.”
“You shouldn’t be this close to me,” she whispered, trying to pull away from his hold around her shoulders. “What if people see us? They’ll misunderstand...” She glanced nervously around.
He tightened his grip, his piercing gaze locking onto hers, stilling her movements.
“I don’t care,” he replied, his voice calm, yet firm. “Let them.”
Despite the rumors surrounding his supposed engagement to Annie, Dante showed no hesitation. No shame. No second- guessing. He didn’t even look around to see who might be watching.
“You can’t see clearly, right?” he asked. Without waiting for her answer, he leaned down again, bringing her closer. “Just hold on to me. I’ll stay with you.”
Anya’s heart pounded uncontrollably. Her face felt warm, her breath caught in her throat. She clutched his sleeve lightly, dazed by the closeness. The closeness, the way he looked at her as if she were the only one he cared about—it was almost too much.
“You should’ve told me about your eyesight earlier,” he murmured, eyes scanning her face. “I would’ve let you rest. Wouldn’t have made you wear those lenses all day.”
“I’m okay. I can manage,” she said softly, giving him a small smile.
Dante turned to her fully, his eyes serious now. He reached up, gently tucking her hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her skin.
“If something like this happens again,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning, “if you ever feel discomfort—even the smallest—tell me. Right away. I don’t like knowing you’re uncomfortable and not saying anything.”
Anya stared at him, stunned by the sincerity on his face. That kind of expression—he wasn’t just being kind, he was genuinely worried.
The tension on his face was as if he had stopped seeing everything else entirely. It made her realize how intensely he was focused on her.
This man—who everyone thought was cold and unreachable—looked at her like she was the most important thing in the world.
And it made him irresistibly attractive to her.
Her face softened in a way she couldn’t hide, no matter how hard she tried.
But then the sounds around her rushed back all at once. The clinking glasses, murmurs of conversation—and she realized just how close they were. And that they were still in public.
“Dante.” She placed her hands on his broad shoulders and gently pushed him back. “We should keep some distance. People might think we’re having an affair.”
“We are having an affair,” he said, his brow arched, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Her eyes widened in shock, and she immediately put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t say such things out loud!” she gasped, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. “Don’t you feel even a little ashamed?”
He smirked, brushing her hand away slowly.
“You’re the one who should feel ashamed,” he said near her ear, his breath grazing her skin. “After all, it was you who pulled me into bed.”
Her face burned even redder. Embarrassed, she dropped her gaze and turned away, walking off quickly—anywhere he wasn’t. But even as she moved, she could feel his gaze trailing her, intense and watchful, as though he was only there to keep his eyes on her.
Later that evening, as the sun dipped low and shadows stretched across the city, Anya and Dante exited the place. Both looked exhausted.
Dante was still holding her hand.
She tried pulling away several times, but his grip didn’t loosen. He held onto her like he had no intention of letting go.
The car pulled up in front of them. Just as she was about to get in, his phone rang.
“Mom” flashed across the screen.
Dante took a few steps away from the car and answered the call. “Mom?”
“Dante, where are you? Come home now. You and I are going to the Carters’ house.”
“What?” he snapped, sounding agitated. “Mom, what are you—”
“The other day, Charles called me and said Annie was sick, which is why she couldn’t come to that date. We’ve known their family for years. It’s basic manners to check in. Charles was close with your father, Dante.”
Dante sighed. He knew Janet was using this as an excuse, she just wanted to go there and see Annie. Still, because of the long-standing family friendship, he didn’t want to be rude.
“Alright,” he said tightly. “I’ll pick you up in an hour. Be ready.”
“Wonderful,” Janet chirped, then ended the call.
Dante turned to Anya, walking her back to the car.
“I need to go somewhere,” he said with a faint frown. “I’ll drop you off first. Get in.”
“Where are you going?” she asked casually.
“To the Carters’ house,” he said, his knuckles brushing softly against her cheek. “They’re old family friends. Their daughter’s just returned after years of being missing. We haven’t seen her since. Mom wants to pay a visit—it’s just a courtesy call.”
Anya’s eyes widened. Panic flashed across her face.
Dante immediately noticed her reaction. Thinking she misunderstood, he leaned in to explain, pulling her face between his hands.
"Hey, it’s nothing serious, I promise," he said, brushing his lips against hers. "I’m only going there so Mom doesn’t get upset. I won’t stay long. Just a few minutes, then I’m coming right back."
But that was the least of Anya’s worries.
“Mr. Kingsley—”
“You’re still calling me that?” he frowned, leaning in again to kiss her. But she pulled back, making the crease on his brow deepen.
“At least stop calling me that in private,” he muttered, voice low and heated. “We’ve even slept together. Or have you forgotten how you were moaning my name in bed?”
The memory rushed into her mind at once. That night. The way she’d clung to him, breathless and desperate.
“Stop it!” she hissed, slapping his hands away from her face. “We’re in public! You need to stop doing this to me.”
“What, making your cheeks turn red?” he teased with a knowing grin.
She let out a huff and glared at him. “Since you’re not going to be at the office now, can I leave early?”
“Sure,” he muttered, eyeing her carefully. “Are you feeling okay?”
She nodded quickly and pulled his hands away, lowering them. “I’m leaving now, okay?” she muttered, then turned and rushed off.
Dante stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, confusion flickering in his eyes.
***
Back at the Carter residence, Anya burst through the door and ran straight inside, her voice ringing out in panic.
“Dad? Dad! Where are you?!”
Charles rushed out of his room, alarmed. “What is it?!”
“Why didn’t you tell me Mrs. Kingsley was coming here today?” she demanded breathlessly. “Why didn’t you tell me in advance?! I don’t want them to find out I’m Annie!”
“What?” Charles blinked. “I didn’t know she was coming. Are you sure?”
“Yes! She’s on her way with Dante. They’ll be here any minute.” She grabbed his arm desperately. “Please don’t let them meet me—don’t let them see Annie!”
“Don’t panic,” Charles said calmly, patting her shoulders. “Go upstairs and stay in your room. I’ll handle everything.”
“Thank you, Dad,” she breathed out, giving him a grateful smile before hurrying upstairs.
Barely five minutes later, a maid approached Charles quickly.
“Mr. Carter, the Kingsleys are here to see you.”
Charles straightened up and adjusted his expression. “Let them in.”
Janet and Dante walked through the door, and Charles greeted them with a polite smile.
“Well, what a surprise,” he said warmly, walking forward to shake their hands. “Janet.”
“Mr. Carter,” Dante greeted with a firm voice, extending his hand. The two men shook hands.
Janet stood proudly beside Dante, her eyes darting between Charles and him. She noticed the way Charles looked at Dante and cleared her throat delicately.
"How are you, Charles? You said Annie’s been sick, so I wanted to stop by. A girl without a mother needs someone to be there for her when she's unwell."
“She’s fine,” Charles replied with a tight nod, motioning toward the couches. “Come, take a seat.”
"Oh, don’t treat me like a guest now. We’re family," Janet quickly waved her hand, walking over to the couch and taking a seat. But then her eyes caught something.
A sweater.
Lying carelessly thrown on the side of the couch. Her eyes narrowed.
It was the same sweater Anya had worn the day Janet had kicked her out.
‘No... what am I thinking?’ she quickly brushed the thought away, shaking her head. ‘That girl couldn’t have anything to do with Charles. She can’t be Annie. That’s just not possible. I threw her out myself. She’s probably sleeping on the streets by now.’
She plastered a bright smile across her face and asked cheerfully, “Where’s Annie? Is she feeling better? Why don’t you call her down? Dante is here too. It’ll be the perfect reunion!”
Charles’ expression dimmed slightly as he shook his head. “Sorry, she can’t meet anyone today,” he said regretfully. “She has a skin condition. It’s contagious. No one, not even our own family, is going near her. We’re making sure she recovers as soon as possible.”
Janet’s smile faltered. She had come all this way just to show Annie how successful and wealthy they were—to prove they were worthy of being in her life. But now her plan was falling apart.
“Is that so...” she mumbled. Then, as if suddenly inspired, she looked up with forced enthusiasm. “Actually, I just remembered! I know a world-class dermatologist. He’s treated thousands of patients. If it’s a skin condition, he can cure her in no time!”
Already standing, she added quickly, “Why don’t you ask her to come downstairs? I’ll take her to see the doctor myself. I promise I’ll take excellent care of her.”
Charles stood too, lifting a hand in polite refusal. "That won’t be necessary, Janet. We’ve already flown in a specialist from Paris. The best in the field. But thank you for your offer—I know you mean well."
“Oh…” Janet’s disappointment deepened. Her eyes shimmered with frustration, though she tried to mask it with a weak smile. She turned to Dante, who stood calmly near the couch.
“You two have obviously met before during business, but let me introduce you formally—Charles, this is my son, Dante.”
“I know,” Charles said with a small smile, nodding toward Dante.
Dante nodded back respectfully. The two had crossed paths many times at business events, each aware of the other’s backgrounds.
Janet beamed proudly, clinging to Dante’s arm. "Then you must know how successful he is. We just opened another branch in Switzerland. It was a tough market to crack, but now it's going to be one of the biggest tech companies there. And not a single scandal to his name. He’s so focused on work, he hardly ever takes a break."
Charles nodded in agreement. “I know. Dante is extremely talented. He even handles my company’s tech and data operations. He’s one of the most trusted names in the industry right now.”
Janet leaned in slightly, her tone turning more persuasive. “So… what do you think about Dante and Annie?” she asked. “Don’t you think they’d make a great match?”
Charles gave a thoughtful smile, then answered honestly. “Dante is a good man. I’ve seen him grow up. But the decision about marriage is entirely up to Annie. If she agrees, we’ll talk. If not, then there’s no point in forcing anything.”
“Of course!” Janet jumped in excitedly. "Maybe we can arrange a meeting for them again? Just the two of them, to talk and see if they click. Honestly, I already feel like they’re a perfect match."
Charles simply gave her a polite smile.
Janet tilted her head. "Ah—she doesn’t already have a boyfriend, does she?" she asked casually, trying to gauge his reaction.
“No, I don’t think so,” Charles replied evenly.
Janet’s smile returned, wide and satisfied. She reached into the bag she had brought and handed over a few boxes.
“These are a few souvenirs Dante picked out for you,” she said, presenting them with a sugary grin.
Then, without waiting for further discussion, she turned and left with Dante by her side.
***
Anya stood hesitantly outside Dante’s office, her heart pounding. After what happened the day before, she was rattled. Even though they didn’t know she was Annie, the close call had shaken her.
She had been living on edge for so long that even the smallest incident threatened to unravel her carefully maintained control. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and stepped inside.
The office was empty.
Relieved, she began to back away—but suddenly, Dante appeared right in front of her, blocking the door.
She gasped and stumbled back, retreating into the room.
Dante walked in, letting the door close behind him as he headed straight for his desk. Anya hesitated, then followed after him.
“Oh, I just came to give you your coffee,” she said quickly, extending the cup toward him.
He took the cup from her hand without a word and placed it on the table beside him.
Confused by his silence, Anya turned to leave. But before she could take a step, Dante suddenly wrapped his arms around her from behind and lifted her clean off the ground.
He carried her effortlessly and set her down—right on top of the table in his office.
She gasped in surprise, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
She tried to push herself down, but he stepped closer, his body pressing against hers. His hand gripped her hip, holding her in place.
Her heart pounded as her wide eyes flicked from him to the door and back again. “What... what are you doing?” she repeated, her voice low and shaky, trying to slide off the table.
Then he pulled something from his pocket.
It was a sleek black case.
Opening it, he took out a pair of rectangular glasses and gently slid them onto her nose, adjusting them with precise care.
“Don’t wear contact lenses all the time,” he muttered, fingers grazing the frame before trailing softly down her cheek in a feather-light caress.
Their eyes locked.
“It must be uncomfortable all day,” he added in a low, deep voice. “You shouldn't strain yourself.”
Anya stared at him, confused, her brows knitting together.
Seeing the look in her eyes, Dante cleared his throat and looked away. “I got them for free from a store. Came with something I bought. That’s why I brought them. Take them or leave them.”
But even before she could respond, his expression shifted—growing impatient. His fingers reached for the glasses, beginning to take them off. “Forget it. If you don’t want them—”
“No!” she caught his wrist with a laugh, shrugging him off. “You gave them to me. Now they’re mine. Stop it.”
For a moment, Dante froze. Then his frown softened. A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Anya felt a sudden flutter in her chest, her heart racing as his smile made her feel both flustered and strangely elated.
Her cheeks flushed with warmth she couldn’t hide. Desperate to escape, she tried to move off the table, but he only tightened his hold on her hip and waist, keeping her in place.
“Dante—” she whispered breathlessly.
His eyes locked on hers.