Peter leaned back in his chair, lips curling into a slow, ugly grin as the boys around him bent closer, their whispers growing louder until they spilled into open mockery.
“So tell me, Dante,” Peter drawled, voice dripping with amusement, “did security escort you in… or did you sneak through the service entrance like old times?”
Laughter exploded around the table. Someone slapped the surface hard enough to rattle the glasses.
Another voice chimed in, sharp and sneering.
“I thought Monterio’s people kept tabs on their criminals. Or did they finally decide you weren’t worth the effort?”
The words cut deeper than the laughter.
Aria’s fingers tightened around her glass. Heat rushed to her face, shame burning her cheeks. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Dante standing there—plain clo
