Aria felt the air around Dante change. It wasn't just cold anymore; it was heavy, the kind of atmospheric pressure that preceded a lethal storm. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that if she didn’t intervene, Tyler Vance might not leave this lobby on his own two feet.
She surged forward, her fingers digging into the muscle of Dante’s arm. "Dante, stop! Please!" she hissed, her voice trembling with urgency. "We didn't come here for this. We came for the wedding booking. Don’t let him ruin it. Just… let it go."
Dante’s jaw remained set, his eyes locked on Tyler’s throat. For a long, agonizing second, he didn't move. Then, he exhaled a slow, controlled breath. The suffocating pressure eased, but only slightly. He was reigning himself in, but the fire was still burning behind his ribs
