Fire Meets Ice
1048 Words
Warm and golden sunlight streamed in through the De Luca mansion's tall windows. But warmth never reached Luna. Not here. Not with him.
She stood at the bottom of the giant bed, still wearing the black top Dante's servant had brought over last night. It smelled of thread and cedarwood, and it was fitted and tight.
The door shifted and there was a knock.
"The morning meal is served," Marco screamed.
Luna did not move. She wasn't hungry for breakfast, at least not with Dante. Not after all of this.
But soon, she was barefoot and had an armored chin in the dining room.
Dante sat at the head of the table, wearing a clean black button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up above his wrists. He was laughing instead of surprised to see her arrive.
"You came," he said. "That's a first."
"I figured it was more fun to hurl food at you in person."
His mouth curved. "You'd be the first to try it."
Luna plunked down in a chair without being invited. "You're positive about that?"
Dante gestured at the deviled eggs, fruit, doughnuts, and coffee. "Eat something."
She threw the dish away. "I do not feel like eating."
He rested ahead once again. "Are you always stubborn, or only with me?"
She gazed at him steadily. "It's only with those who think they own me."
He sat back in his chair. "I don't own you."
"You don't play like you don't."
"I stand up for what is mine."
"I'm not yours."
Blank for a beat.
The tension between them increased, but Dante did not panic.
He had said in a low voice, "Your family name is blood, so you are under my protection." "Blood that will kill you. I hate you, I do not care. But while you are in this house, you will be ruled by rules."
Luna crossed her arms. "And what happens if I do not?"
His eyes became as hard as stone. "Then you'll find out what happens to those who defy them."
She stood up, jerking the chair roughly across a marble. "I am never going to be afraid of you."
" That's a winner," he said with flatness. "Fear clouding judgment."
Her heart was thumping away, but she didn't back off.
"You really expect me to fall for your trick because you're so powerful? Because you have armed soldiers working for you and you dress in suits that cost more than most people earn in a year?"
Dante rose too, slowly, cautiously. He approached her, speaking low.
"No. I think eventually you'll stop playing make-believe that you're not of this world."
"I'm not."
You are. Born in it, raised to know its codes, though your mother attempted to scrub them from your mind.
She clamped her jaw. "Don't mention my mother."
"I'll say anything I please. This is my home."
She headed towards the door.
"Already leaving?" he asked her.
Luna stopped. "You said it yesterday. That you don't want submission, you want flame. Well, it's here. I'm not your puppet. If you think bringing me here is going to make me play mafia wife and be pretty on your arm, you don't know me."
His words followed her, even and calm.
"No, Luna. I do not want to be pretty. I want dangerous."
That made her stand still in her tracks.
She half-turned, eyes wrinkling. "Why?
"Because frightening women don't betray you when the world falls apart. Frightening women don't shatter when the rules are discarded. I don't need another quiet girl, permission just to stay alive. I need somebody who knows how to fight-and why."
Her heart stumbled.
"You need a partner," she teased, half-convinced.
"I need someone who will not run shouting when the first body hits the floor."
She stepped back from him, far enough to see the lines under his eyes. "I've seen blood, Dante."
"But did it?"
She didn't respond.
Luna had spoken quietly. "Not yet."
He gazed at her, for the first time, with empty space between them-empty space that wasn't cold and calculated.
Understanding. Perhaps even respect.
But she could not allow it.
"I'm not yours," she said again. "And I never will be."
He didn't flinch. "Keep telling yourself that."
Their eyes met. Standoff. Battle fought silently with breath and stares.
And then Dante took a step back.
"Please come with me," he said.
Raised her head and looked at him. "Why would I?"
"Because you want answers. About your dad. About why, you were brought into this world again."
That caused her to stop in her tracks.
"Do you think I will believe that you're just going to give them to me?"
"No, not at all," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'll permit you to work for them."
He took her through the house; doors she had never been able to find the courage to push open. The floor of a hall dropped away down a steep flight of stairs into what appeared to be a vault.
Dante opened it by thumbprint and password.
Inside, there were shelves on the walls, boxes, files, weapons, and photographs.
Luna's breath caught.
There was her father's name on a folder.
Dante waved his hand. "You want truth? It's in there. But be warned. Truth never comes without weight."
She crept closer towards the folder, her hand hovering.
Why are you doing this now? She breathed not quite.
" Although you do not want to see it, you are on a chessboard. And I'd sooner have you where I can watch you than in against me."
Luna said not a word. She snatched the folder and held it in her arm.
"I'll read it. But I'm still not yours."
Dante would not let her surrender.
But as she departed, she felt the shadowy eyes at the base of her neck.
She did eventually open the file later in her own bedroom.
Names. Transactions. Secrets.
And at the bottom, a photo.
Her father. Dante's father. Smiling years ago. Before, blood was involved in everything.
Luna collapsed into the chair, with a thudding heart.
She wasn't prepared to trust Dante.
But now, she had no other choice but to get to know him.
And maybe that was riskier than anything.
- Writer
