Chapter 4 : Dangerous Things
1171 Words
i barely slept that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him standing in front of me in the kitchen, his voice low, his stare impossible to escape. Because I don’t think I can.
The words stayed in my head long after I locked myself in my room.
Morning came slowly. Gray light slipped through the curtains, dull and cold, and for a few seconds, I forgot where I was. Then the silence of the mansion settled over me again, heavy and suffocating.
I sat up with a tired sigh and reached for my phone on the nightstand.
Three missed calls from Jay.
A small knot tightened in my chest.
Jay had always been easy. Familiar. The kind of person who filled silence instead of creating it. Being around him never felt complicated.
Dante was the exact opposite.
And somehow, that made him impossible to ignore.
I pushed the thought away quickly and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was unusually quiet, but I could feel it—that strange tension lingering in the walls like smoke after a fire.
As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I stopped.
Dante was there.
Of course he was.
He leaned against the counter with a coffee cup in one hand, dark eyes lifting slowly to meet mine. The air instantly felt thinner.
“You disappeared last night,” he said calmly.
I crossed my arms, trying to ignore the way my heartbeat stumbled under his attention. “I went to bed.”
His gaze stayed on me for a second too long.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“That’s not true.”
A faint smile touched his mouth, like he knew I was lying before I even finished speaking.
My phone buzzed suddenly in my hand.
Jay.
Dante noticed the name immediately.
Something in his expression changed—not obvious enough for anyone else to notice, but I saw it. His shoulders stiffened slightly. His jaw tightened.
“You answer him a lot,” he said quietly.
I frowned. “He’s my friend.”
The silence that followed felt sharp.
Then Dante set his coffee down and walked toward me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You trust him?”
The question caught me off guard.
“Yes.”
Another step closer.
“And you trust me?”
My throat tightened.
I should’ve said no immediately.
But the truth was becoming more dangerous every second I stayed here.
Because somewhere along the way, despite every warning in my head… I was starting to.
Dante studied my face carefully, like he was waiting for the answer to change.
When I didn’t speak, his gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes again, darker this time. The kitchen suddenly felt too small for both of us.
“That’s a bad idea, Ava,” he said softly.
“What is?”
“Trusting me.”
A nervous laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “You keep saying that like you’re trying to scare me.”
“Maybe I am.”
The honesty in his voice caught me off guard.
Rain tapped quietly against the windows again, soft and steady, but inside the silence between us grew heavier. Dante moved around me slowly, stopping close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
“You don’t understand what this place is,” he murmured. “Or what people become when they want something badly enough.”
My heartbeat quickened. “And what exactly do you want?”
His eyes locked onto mine instantly.
“You.”
The word hit harder than it should have.
Not because he said it.
But because part of me believed him.
I looked away first, my pulse unsteady, and reached for the edge of the counter just to ground myself. “You barely know me.”
A faint smirk touched his face. “I know enough.”
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed again in my hand.
Jay.
The shift in Dante was immediate.
The softness disappeared from his expression so fast it almost startled me. His jaw tightened as he stared at the screen, something sharp and possessive flickering behind his eyes.
“Does he always call this much?” he asked.
“He’s worried about me.”
“And I’m not?”
The question hung between us.
Dante stepped closer again, close enough that my back lightly brushed the counter behind me. My breath caught as his hand rested beside mine, trapping me there without forcing me.
“I don’t like sharing your attention,” he admitted quietly.
Every warning sign in my head screamed at me to step away.
Instead, I stayed completely still.
And somehow, I knew he noticed that too.Dante’s eyes searched mine for a long moment, like he was trying to read every thought I hadn’t said out loud. The rain outside grew heavier, filling the silence between us, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of my heartbeat.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, neither of us moved.
“Answer it,” Dante said finally, though his voice had gone colder.
I swallowed hard and looked down at the screen before accepting the call. “Hey, Jay.”
“Ava, are you okay?” he asked immediately. “You’ve been acting strange since you got there.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but I could feel Dante watching me. Not casually. Intensely. Like every word out of my mouth mattered to him more than it should.
“I’m fine,” I said quietly.
“You sure? Because I can come get you if—”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
Too sharp.
Jay paused. “...Okay.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dante relax slightly, but the look on his face was still dark, unreadable.
“I’ll call you later,” I told Jay softly before hanging up.
The second the phone left my ear, silence rushed back in.
“You didn’t want him here,” Dante observed.
I frowned. “You were staring at me like you wanted to kill him.”
A low laugh escaped him, but there wasn’t much humor in it.
“That obvious?”
The air between us shifted again, heavy and dangerous. Dante leaned down slightly, close enough that his voice brushed against my skin when he spoke.
“You don’t realize what you do to people, Ava.”
My pulse stumbled. “And what do I do to you?”
For a second, he just looked at me.
Then his hand lifted slowly, fingers tilting my chin upward until I had no choice but to meet his eyes fully.
“You make me lose control,” he said quietly.
The confession should’ve terrified me.
Maybe it did.
But standing there beneath his gaze, with the storm raging outside and his hand still against my skin, fear was becoming dangerously difficult to separate from attraction.
- Writer
