Elena's hands trembled as she pushed open the heavy door to Dante's office. The room smelled of leather and expensive cigars, dark and masculine like everything about him. He sat behind his desk, silhouetted against the city lights bleeding through the windows behind him.
He didn't look up. His fingers moved across papers with cold efficiency, as if she wasn't even there.
"What do you want?"
The words were sharp, cutting. Elena felt them slice through her chest, but she forced herself to step forward. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, each step an act of courage.
"I wanted to thank you," she whispered. "For defending me back there."
Dante's hand stilled. Slowly, so slowly it made her breath catch, he lifted his head. His dark eyes found hers across the room, and the intensit
