Chapter 16 Dante
DANTE
She watches me as I close the distance between us.
"It's time to leave,” I say.
She purses her lips and turns back toward her friend. They hug each other goodbye, and Sarah is escorted back inside the villa.
"She thinks you're some type of hero," Grace says, turning back toward me.
"I'm sure you corrected her," I say.
"She'll see for herself soon enough that you're a monster," she replies.
I take a step toward her. Unlike all the times before, she doesn't move away now. She tilts her chin up, keeping those lethal eyes on me.
"You can call me whatever you want," I say, slipping my fingers into her hair and tugging on it.
Her lips part open, begging to be kissed hard.
"But it doesn't change that a man like me is exactly what turns you on. I see you, little bird. I see you for exactly who you are. And you need the darkness. You crave the thrill of it. It makes you feel alive.”
I don't think she knows it, but she's leaning into me again.
Before I do something I'll regret later, I pull away. She blinks up at me, her breathing already heavy. She wants me, but she's not ready to admit it to herself.
"I'll wait for you," I tell her. "I'll wait until you're ready to be honest with yourself. And when that time comes, I'll demand your complete submission. I'll bury my cock so deep inside you that you'll see stars."
She turns that pretty shade of red again.
"Do you have no shame?" she whispers.
"I'm a man who knows what he wants, little bird," I say. "And I want you.”
“You’re so unbelievably full of yourself,” she says.
Her hands ball into tight fists. Maybe now isn't a good time to tell her that I find it adorable when she's mad at me.
"I have errands to run. You’re coming with me,” I say, walking toward the Vespa. She huffs and follows me.
“I still don’t get it,” she says.
“What don’t you get?”
“Of all the girls in the world, why did you pick me to be your temporary wife?”
“I’ve never wanted anyone else like I want you,” I say honestly.
She blinks a few times. It might be too much for her to digest, but it’s the truth.
"Tell me about your past relationships," she says.
"There's not much to tell," I say. "I've never been in one."
"I'm so shocked," she says.
I glance over at her. “My work keeps me busy.”
"Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason you've been single for forty years," she says.
I place my palm over my chest, acting hurt. "I'm thirty-four.”
“What about casual lovers?” she asks.
“Why?”
“No reason, I’m just curious.” She smiles up at me sweetly.
I’m momentarily arrested by that smile.
"Are you hoping that someone will come steal me from you?" I ask. "Because that won’t be happening. There's not a single force in this universe that can take me away from you."
She takes a deep breath, rattled by my words.
I'm starting to let my obsession with her show. This infatuation is sinking its claws so deep inside me that I'm starting to lose my composure.
When we reach the Vespa, I help her into the helmet. She studies me with those brown eyes.
It feels like fate. I think I would have found her anywhere. Something in me wouldn’t have rested until I found her.
The sun is lower in the sky now. Everything is a muted shade of gold as we drive through the winding streets. I stop when we reach the bakery. Once inside, I order a warm blueberry muffin for her and a coffee for me. I didn't get any sleep last night, and I'm starting to feel it now.
We sit by the window. The early evening light illuminates her, making her look like an angel.
She tears off a piece of the muffin and brings it to her mouth. I'm hypnotized by the way her rosebud lips part open. My cock jerks at the way her tongue slides over her bottom lip, licking the crumbs off.
“There’s something else,” I say. “Nobody can know that this marriage will be a temporary arrangement.”
"Why?" she asks.
"Because I said so," I say.
"And he wonders why he's still single," she mutters under her breath. She tears another piece of the muffin and pops it into her mouth.
"I'm sorry it has to be this way," I say. "I wish things could have been different, but this is just how things are."
"You don't look sorry about anything," she says.
The bell above the door chimes as Enzo enters the bakery. His skin looks red from too many hours under the sun. His hair is still wet under the baseball cap he’s wearing.
He walks over to us and places the diamond ring on the table.
"I knew I could count on you," I say, smiling up at Dante.
He looks at Grace. "Next time, throw your fiancé into the ocean. He'll be easier to find."
Grace's face is pale as she stares at the ring. She's staring at it like it's the end of the world. I start to feel something, but I kill it before it spreads through me.
I take her hand. It's sticky from the butter and blueberry compote, but I don't mind. I slide the ring down her finger again and bring her hand to my lips. I lick the blueberry off her fingertips as a blush spreads across her cheeks.
She might not like the idea of spending the rest of her life with me, but she likes this.
She enjoys the heat between us.
"I don't get paid enough for this," Enzo mutters, reminding me of his presence.
Grace snatches her hand away, looking mortified.
I stand and turn toward Enzo. "I need to check on the product. Please watch over her."
He nods. I look at Grace for another moment before heading to the back of the bakery. Like most of our businesses, this bakery is a front. We have a shipment going to Southeast Asia tonight, and we’re storing the product here. I make sure everything is in order before returning to Enzo and Grace.
I find them deep in conversation about something. She's smiling at him.
Something territorial awakens inside me. I don't like her smiling at another man.
I clear my throat. "Let's go."
Enzo gives me a curious look. "Is everything fine in the back?"
"Yes," I say, avoiding his gaze.
Grace stands and glances between the two of us.
"Enjoy the night," Enzo says.
“It was nice seeing you again, Enzo," she says, giving him that unguarded smile again.
I've never been on the receiving end of that smile. All I seem to get are her withering eyes and disappointed frowns. I know it's unreasonable for me to be feeling this way, but it feels like something out of my control.
I'm not my usual self when I'm around this girl. I don't think things through.
It's dangerous.
It's only a matter of time before she finds out who I really am.
"What is this place?" she asks, getting off the scooter.
"It's your first day in Praiano," I say. "I had to take you to the beach."
"This is the beach?" she asks, glancing at the cave before us.
"A hidden one," I say. "It's a place only the locals know about."
“Be honest,” she says. “Is this where you're going to finally murder me?"
"Stop saying that," I say. "I already promised you I wouldn't."
“That’s exactly what someone who’s planning on murdering me would say,” she points out.
"You'll like it. Come on." I take her hand in mine.
Something flutters in her eyes for a moment. The whole world holds its breath. And then she averts her gaze.
I want her, all of her.
All of her sweetness, all of her submission.
My thumb brushes over the inside of her wrist. I can feel her pulse racing.
I lead her down the stone staircase, making sure she doesn't trip on the uneven steps. By the time we reach the mouth of the cave, the ocean breeze is beating against our skin. I take a deep breath of the salty ocean spray, letting it renew me.
Grace’s eyes are wide as she stares at the view.
"You like it, don't you?" I say.
"It feels like one of those places you only see in your dreams," she says. "I can't believe it's real."
I try to see it through her eyes. I've been here before. Every time I come here, I only think about how I don't come here often enough. It's a gorgeous black sand beach with tall cliffs on either side. The magic is all in the water. It's a turquoise so bright that it's practically neon.
"How are we the only ones here?" she asks.
"Because the beach only exists when there's low tide," I say. "Sometimes, it's flooded for weeks at a time. It's also dangerous to be out here during certain months, so you won't find it on any map. It doesn't even have a name."
"A beach without a name," she says. "It only makes me love it more."
She beams up at me now, finally giving me that same smile she gave Enzo earlier.
"Thank you for bringing me here, Dante," she says, walking toward the water.
I remain frozen.
My heart is racing so hard inside my rib cage.
A memory from my childhood resurfaces, escaping from the box I try to keep sealed. It plays before my eyes in technicolor, so vivid that my heart squeezes painfully.
My family and I were all sitting around the dining table, finishing up dinner. My parents were annoyingly in love with each other, and my twin sister was asking too many questions like always.
"Mamma, tell us the story about how you met Daddy," Ida asked.
"You already know the story," I said, helping myself to a little more of the risotto. Nobody made it like my mother did.
"I want to hear it again," Ida said, swinging her feet underneath the table.
My parents smiled at each other from across the table.
"It was a hot summer night, and I was working at the gelato shop," our mother said.
"Your father was a tourist who walked in just as I was about to lock up.
I told him he'd have to pick quickly, but he just stood there grinning and asked me to 'surprise him'.
So I picked a random flavor, and apparently, that was his favorite.
He claims that's when he knew I was the one. "
My little sister smiled at our father, who continued the story.
“I knew it the moment he saw her,” he said. “We were both just out of high school, but I still knew that she was the one I wanted to grow old with.”
We didn't have much then. But we had each other, and it was enough.
Ida moves on to the reason she brought this all up in the first place.
"Daddy, what was the ice cream flavor?" she asks.
“Nocciola,” he answers, falling right into her trap.
"What a coincidence," she says. “Hazelnut is my favorite, too. Can we all go out for ice cream? Pleeeease."
"Dante?" Grace brings me out of the daydream. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I reply, trying to exhale the weight of the past.
She looks like she wants to ask me about it, but she doesn’t.
"Are you hungry?" I ask, taking her toward the blanket that's been laid out for us. There's a picnic basket to the side, stocked with sandwiches and drinks.
"Is that for us?" she asks.
"Yeah, my men set it up before we got here," I say, reaching for one of the waterproof bags. I hand the pink one to Grace. She opens it to find a rolled-up towel, a bathing suit, and a change of clothes like I requested.
She pulls out a pair of flip-flops with seashells printed on them.
"These are so cute." She smiles at them.
The strange feeling hits me in the center of my chest again.
This is what I imagine my father felt when he first saw my mother. It feels like the world itself has stopped spinning. Everything that used to matter to me doesn't mean much anymore.
I bury that feeling in the deepest recesses of my mind.
There's no space for these feelings in my world. I can't allow them to exist in the first place.
"Why?" she asks.
"Why what?" I say.
"Why go out of your way to be nice to me?" she asks. "I'm already your prisoner. I have no choice but to do what you want me to."
"It's been a long day," I say. "For you and for me. I just thought it would be a nice way to end the day."
She stares at me for a moment too long.
"Stop trying to figure me out, Grace," I say. "I'm a straightforward man. What you see is what you get."
"It's just...kindness always comes at a cost," she whispers. "Even when you think it's different, it's still the same."
Her words cut me like a knife.
I'm not supposed to be feeling sympathetic toward her, but it's established that this girl is my weakness. And if I'm not careful, she could become my undoing.
"I'm going for a swim," I say, turning away from her.
I change into my swim trunks under a towel and head toward the soft blue water.
Everything inside me is alive and ablaze. It doesn't cool until half of me is covered in clear blue water. I swim farther away from the shore, letting the salt absorb everything that's been weighing on me.
Her words continue to haunt my head.
Kindness comes at a cost.
I didn't climb the ranks by second-guessing my every decision.
I always had a higher vision in mind. I was always capable of cruelty and callousness. I always had a one-track mind that didn't run in a hundred different directions.
But now...
I turn to look at her. She's still standing on the beach, looking so beautiful that it makes my eyes burn. It makes everything burn.
This need for her is its own entity.
It has lungs. It has fangs. It has hunger.
Even though she's standing so far away from me, it's like our bodies are connected with a string. It's like our hearts have started to beat as one.
Good lord, I'm in trouble.