Brielle's POV
I didn't make it far.
Dante blocked the hallway before I reached the front door, his broad frame filling the narrow space like an impenetrable wall. The scent of him hit me first—that cologne, dark and expensive and utterly masculine, with notes of cedarwood and something spicier that I couldn't quite name. It wrapped around me like smoke, curling into my lungs, making my head spin and my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm.
"Move," I said, keeping my eyes fixed somewhere over his left shoulder, not meeting his gaze.
"We need to talk."
"No, we don't."
"Brielle." My name on his lips sounded dangerous, weighted with intention and something darker that made my skin prickle with awareness. "You can't just walk away from this."
"Watch me."
I tried stepping around him,
