Chapter 8 - The Party(part 1)
816 Words
She shouldn’t have felt it that fast.
But she did.
The moment she stepped inside something shifted.
The space was louder than she expected. Music low but constant. Glasses clinking. Laughter just a little too free. The kind of atmosphere where people forgot... or pretended to. Warm lights. Shadows in the corners. Nothing sharp. Everything… softened. Except the way her body reacted.
She paused just inside the entrance.
Not long. Just enough to take it in.
Or maybe to steady something inside her that had already started to move.
Then it happened.
That feeling again.
Not eyes.
Not exactly.
Attention.
Focused.
Intentional.
She didn’t turn immediately.
Didn’t rush it.
Because this time she knew.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her bag.
Then, slowly she lifted her gaze...and found him.
Dante.
Across the room.
Not talking.
Not distracted.
Looking at her.
Not surprised.
Not curious.
Like he had expected her to walk in exactly like that.
Her breath shifted. Just slightly.
And this time he didn’t look away.
- “Okay… wow.” Ana’s voice cut in beside her.
- “You came to ruin someone’s night or what?”
Erica let out a quiet breath.
- “I almost didn’t come.”
- “Yeah, well… good thing you did,” Ana muttered, scanning the room. Then leaning closer—“Because your boss has been in a very interesting mood all evening.”
Erica didn’t answer.
Her eyes were still on him.
He moved first. Not fast, not obvious, but closer. People greeted him, talked to him, laughed. None of it seemed to matter. Because every few seconds—
his attention returned. To her. And she felt it. Every time.
- “Drink?” Ana asked.
Erica nodded.
More to do something than because she wanted one. The glass felt cold in her hand.
Grounding.
For a second.
Then—
- “You made it.”
Tony. Of course.
He appeared like he always did.
Quiet, observing, already aware of more than he said. His eyes moved over her once. Not slowly, not obviously, but thoroughly.
- “Looks like it,” she replied.
A faint shift in his expression.
Approval? Maybe.
- “He wasn’t sure you’d come,” Tony added casually.
Her fingers tightened around the glass.
- “And you?” she asked.
Tony’s lips curved slightly.
- “I was curious.”
- “About what?”
His voice.
Close.
Too close.
She turned.
Dante.
No distance this time.
No space to prepare.
And suddenly everything else faded just a little.
The music.
The people.
The room.
All background.
- “About whether you’d show up,” Tony answered easily.
Dante didn’t take his eyes off her.
- “And?” he asked.
Tony stepped back half a step.
- “I got my answer.”
And just like that he left. Not far.
But far enough.
And now there was no buffer.
Dante’s gaze moved over her.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Not inappropriate.
But not neutral either.
- “You decided,” he said.
Not a question.
Erica held his gaze.
- “Maybe I don’t like missing things.”
A flicker.
Sharp.
Quick.
Gone.
- “Good,” he said.
A beat.
Closer now.
- “Because tonight… you shouldn’t.”
Her phone vibrated.
Between them.
She didn’t move.
Neither did he.
Another vibration.
His eyes dropped.
Briefly.
Then back to her.
- “You’re popular tonight,” he said quietly.
Her lips parted slightly.
Not to answer.
To breathe.
Because the space between them—
was no longer neutral.
It was charged.
- “Or maybe I just stopped ignoring things,” she said.
That landed.
Something in his expression shifted.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
A step closer.
Now there was almost no space left.
- “Careful,” he murmured.
Low.
Controlled.
- “That kind of shift… doesn’t go unnoticed.”
Her phone vibrated again.
She still didn’t reach for it.
Because right now she knew exactly what she was choosing.
And it wasn’t the message.
His hand moved.
Not sudden.
Not invasive.
But intentional.
It settled lightly at her waist.
Just enough.
And everything inside her reacted.
Not panic.
Not resistance.
Awareness.
Sharp.
Immediate.
“Too much if I ask for a dance?” he asked.
Quiet.
Close.
She shook her head.
Slowly.
“No.”
A pause.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
Then she set it down.
Deliberately.
Like she had just made a decision.
And when she looked back at him there was something different in her gaze.
Not hesitation.
Choice.
Her phone vibrated again.
Ignored.
But inside something had already shifted.
Because for the first time she wasn’t reacting.
She was stepping into it.
And somewhere, very close, someone was watching.
And smiling.
And this time… she was going to make him step out of the shadows.
Because he wasn’t playing alone anymore.
- Writer
