Chapter Eleven – A Dangerous Game Begins
1546 Words
Dante didn’t look away even after I tried to break eye contact. He was studying me, not in a rude way, but like he was trying to remember something and couldn’t let it go.
“You have a strange effect on people,” he said finally.
“People?” I asked. “Or men?”
“Same thing, sometimes,” he replied, his lips curving slightly.
I laughed under my breath. “That depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
“Then yes,” I said. “Sometimes they are the same.”
He tilted his head, amused. “You’re confident.”
“I have to be,” I said. “It’s the only way to survive in a room full of sharks.”
He chuckled quietly. “You don’t look like prey.”
“I’m not.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I don’t hunt for sport.”
“Then what do you hunt for?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Truth,” he said. “And people who lie well.”
“That sounds like work,” I said, smiling. “You’re at a party, Mr. Pierce. Try to have some fun.”
He leaned in just a little. “I am.”
The air between us changed then. His nearness was warm, steady. He wasn’t touching me, but it felt like he was. His voice softened, not low, but even — the kind that could easily be mistaken for a caress.
“You seem familiar,” he said. “Not just your face. Something about the way you speak.”
“Maybe I remind you of someone,” I said, sipping my wine.
“I thought of that,” he said. “But I would remember.”
“People forget things all the time.”
“I don’t,” he said. “Not faces like yours.”
The corner of my mouth lifted. “That sounds like a compliment.”
“It is.”
We both smiled then, but there was a pull there neither of us could hide. His hand brushed mine when he reached for his glass, and I felt the small spark of contact. He didn’t move it right away. I didn’t either.
I broke the tension first, stepping slightly to the side and pointing to the large painting above the bar. “You chose that?” I asked.
“The artwork? Yes. It’s an original Rothman.”
“It’s too loud,” I said.
“Too loud?”
“It demands attention. I prefer quiet beauty.”
He looked at me like I’d said something revealing. “Quiet beauty,” he repeated softly. “You strike me as someone who likes being noticed.”
“Maybe. But not by everyone.”
“By who, then?”
I smiled faintly. “That depends on who’s looking.”
He studied me for a moment, and I could feel his interest deepening. “You play with words.”
“I use them,” I said. “You play with power.”
“That’s fair.”
“And dangerous,” I added.
His smile widened. “Then maybe we’re both dangerous.”
“Maybe,” I said, tilting my glass toward him. “To each other.”
He clinked his glass lightly against mine. “Cheers to that.”
We both drank, and the music behind us changed again. The crowd was thicker now, laughter louder. I noticed Chloe entering from the far side of the ballroom, her golden hair catching the light. She was in a champagne-colored gown, smiling too wide. Landon was a step behind her, already bored, scanning the room until his eyes landed on me.
I looked away before he could stare too long.
Dante’s attention was still on me. “Do you know him?” he asked, following my glance.
“Landon? I’ve seen his face before. He seems… complicated.”
“That’s a kind word for him,” Dante said. “You don’t like complicated?”
“I attract it,” I admitted. “It’s a curse.”
He laughed softly. “That makes two of us.”
“Then we’re both cursed,” I said.
“Or lucky,” he said. “Depending on how the night ends.”
His words made my stomach twist. I pretended to look amused, but I could feel the heat of his stare as he watched me take another sip of wine.
He leaned closer. “You know, most people in this room try too hard. You don’t.”
“Trying too hard is exhausting.”
“It is,” he agreed. “And you make everything look easy.”
“I practiced,” I said, meeting his eyes. “A long time.”
“I can tell,” he said quietly. “You move like someone who knows exactly what she wants.”
“I do.”
“And do you always get it?”
“Eventually.”
He smiled again, but this one looked different. It wasn’t the polite kind he gave to donors and guests. It was slower, warmer, like he couldn’t quite stop himself from doing it.
“Then I’ll have to be careful,” he said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I might be what you want.”
I laughed, soft and quick, though my pulse was racing. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. “It’s not flattery if it’s true.”
I felt his breath near my ear before he stepped back again. My skin prickled under the heat of it.
He wasn’t a man who needed to chase women, I could tell. But something about me had caught him off balance, and he was trying to regain control.
“I like direct people,” he said, pretending to look around the room. “You don’t waste words.”
“Life’s too short for that.”
“I agree,” he said. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been standing here too long.”
“You could leave,” I said.
“I could,” he replied. “But I don’t want to.”
That earned him a small smile from me. “You say that to all the women?”
“Only the ones who make me forget the rest.”
I didn’t respond. I took another sip of wine instead, pretending to look at the chandelier. His fingers brushed my arm as if by accident, and I felt the contact shoot through me.
Across the room, Chloe’s voice cut through the music. “Landon,” she whispered sharply. I turned just enough to see her glance in our direction. “Doesn’t she remind you of someone?”
Landon frowned, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me again. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “She does.”
I turned away before their eyes could meet mine again. “I think your guests are staring,” I told Dante.
“Let them,” he said. “They’re just jealous.”
“Of what?”
He smiled. “That I’m the one standing next to you.”
“You’re bold.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“By women or men?”
“Both,” he said, amused. “But usually women.”
“Then you must enjoy the attention.”
“I enjoy the challenge.”
“Am I a challenge?” I asked.
He looked down at me, eyes sharp with quiet curiosity. “You look like one.”
“Looks can lie.”
“Then I’ll have to find out for myself.” he intoned
I found myself leaning closer without realizing it. There was something magnetic about him. He turned slightly, offering me his arm. “Come with me. It’s too loud here.”
I hesitated, then took it. His arm was firm under my fingers, the kind of steady that could either protect or destroy.
We walked toward the terrace doors. The night air was cooler, scented with jasmine from the garden below. The city lights stretched out like a second sky.
“You throw quite a party,” I said.
“Then I’ve done my job,” he replied. “But I think the best part just arrived late.”
“That’s a terrible line.”
He smiled. “It worked, didn’t it?”
I tried not to smile back. “You assume too much.”
“Only about things I’m sure of.”
“And what are you sure of, Mr. Pierce?”
He turned to face me fully. “That I haven’t met anyone like you before.”
I held his stare for a long moment, feeling the air shift again. His hand brushed mine once more, slow, testing. This time, I didn’t move away.
The orchestra swelled inside the ballroom, the notes echoing faintly through the open doors. He leaned in just enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke.
“You don’t strike me as a stranger, Miss…?”
“Elena,” I said softly, my heart hammering. “Elena Marks.”
He smiled, still close enough for me to feel it. “Then it’s very nice to meet you, Elena Marks.”
- Writer
