Redline

Jealous, ma belle?

The cold early-morning air immediately hit her heated skin, and honestly, it was a relief.

She leaned against the glass railing, watching the lights reflected across the dark water as she tried to reorganize the thoughts in her head. Bad idea, because reorganizing thoughts usually meant admitting uncomfortable things.

Like the fact that Dante Moreau had just destroyed her ability to think coherently by barely brushing his hand down her back.

Behind her, the balcony door opened softly again.

Valentina didn’t even need to turn around.

“Do you automatically chase after women, or should I feel honored?” she asked before he could speak.

She heard Dante’s low laugh as he slowly approached.

“Depends. Are you trying to escape from me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Dante came to stand beside her at the railing, resting both forearms against the glass as he looked out over the harbor just as she had. Up close, beneath the softer lights of the secluded area, he looked dangerously attractive again. His black shirt was slightly open at the collar, tattoos disappearing beneath his rolled-up sleeves, and his hair was slightly tousled by the wind, making him look less like a billionaire race car driver and more like a severe emotional problem.

Which was probably pretty accurate.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Surprisingly, the silence wasn’t awkward.

Below them, the distant sound of music drifted muffled from inside the club, and several boats rocked gently on the dark water.

“You look different tonight,” Valentina finally said.

Dante turned his head slightly toward her.

“Different good or different concerning?”

“Human.”

That made him smile slightly.

And God, it was still disconcerting to see him smile like that.

“Maybe I’m just tired of fighting with everyone.”

“That would imply admitting that you’re normally unbearable.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

Valentina let out a soft laugh as she looked back down at the harbor.

“Olivia is going to make my life hell after this.”

“After what exactly?”

She slowly turned her head toward him.

“You know perfectly well what.”

Dante held her gaze for a few seconds. The night breeze lightly moved the dark hair across his forehead, and the relaxed expression from earlier was still there, although there was something else beneath it now.

“Maybe I don’t mind giving her material to tease you with.”

His low voice seemed to travel straight through her chest.

Valentina swallowed slowly.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you kept looking at me all night.”

That made her go still for a second, because there was no point trying to deny it.

Dante had noticed from the beginning.

Of course he had.

“Your ego was already huge before this,” she murmured, trying to sound calm.

He leaned slightly toward her, just enough to invade her space again.

“It’s not ego if I’m right.”

The distant noise of the party continued drifting from inside while they remained far too close beneath the soft balcony lights. Neither spoke. Neither really moved.

They simply looked at each other.

And for one dangerous second, Valentina thought Dante was going to kiss her.

She saw it in the way his gaze dropped slightly toward her mouth.

Along the way, the air between them seemed to grow heavier.

In the slow tension that settled beneath her skin.

But then Dante quietly exhaled through his nose and stepped back a few inches, as if he had just forced himself to regain control.

“s**t,” he muttered, glancing at his watch. “It’s late.”

Valentina blinked, still trying to remember how to breathe normally.

“That’s it?”

A slow smile appeared on Dante’s face.

“Are you disappointed, ma belle?”

She immediately rolled her eyes to hide the absolute disaster that nickname had just caused inside her.

“I’m considering suing you for psychological damages.”

Dante let out another low laugh before finally straightening away from the railing.

“Come on. If we leave Olivia and Adrian alone for too long, they’ll probably start a diplomatic war or buy a casino.”

“That honestly sounds possible.”

He held out his hand then.

A simple, elegant, ridiculously dangerous gesture coming from him.

Valentina looked at his hand for barely a second before taking it, and Dante smiled slightly, as if he already knew perfectly well she would.

They slowly walked back toward the main terrace. The music grew louder as they moved through the illuminated hallway of the club, and the constant murmur of voices, glasses, and laughter soon surrounded them again.

However, before they fully crossed into the VIP area, Valentina stopped.

Dante immediately turned his head toward her.

“What’s wrong?”

She hesitated for barely a second.

Then she spoke before she could change her mind.

“Who was she?”

Dante raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Who?”

Valentina felt like banging her head against the nearest wall.

“The woman from earlier.”

A small smile slowly appeared on Dante’s face, and that irritated her far more than it should have.

“Sofia?”

“Forget it.”

“She’s an ex.”

Valentina looked away toward the harbor lights visible through the glass walls of the corridor. She didn’t want to hear that.

And she hated it even more when she realized it.

“Jealous, ma belle?”

She let out a small, disbelieving laugh.

“Not in your dreams.”

Dante took another step closer.

Valentina’s heart immediately sped up because the distance between them was minimal again. She could smell his woody cologne mixing with the salty air still drifting in from the open terrace behind them.

“Then why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry,” she repeated, trying to sound convincing.

Dante tilted his head slightly.

“Sure.”

Valentina felt her heart pounding absurdly hard against her ribs. She hated that he noticed things. She hated even more that he seemed to see straight through her, even when she tried to hide behind sarcasm.

“I’m not angry.”

“Sure.”

The way he repeated the exact same word Olivia had used earlier almost made her want to push him straight into the harbor.

Dante was still staring at her when his phone suddenly started ringing.

The moment broke instantly.

Dante’s expression changed the second he saw the screen. All the relaxation disappeared so quickly that it was almost violent to watch. The quiet brightness in his eyes died instantly, and the tension returned to his shoulders, his jaw, his entire posture.

He answered without completely taking his eyes off Valentina.

“What happened?”

Silence.

Valentina watched his expression slowly harden.

“Where?”

Another silence.

Then:

“I’m on my way.”

He hung up immediately.

“What happened?”

Dante slipped the phone into his jacket pocket. The coldness had returned completely.

“They got into the garage again.”

Valentina’s stomach immediately tightened.

“Did they find anyone?”

He slowly shook his head.

“No.”

A brief pause.

“But they left another symbol.”

The distant noise of the party continued behind them. Music, laughter, glasses clinking, people dancing as if the world were still perfectly normal.

But Valentina looked at Dante’s face and understood something uncomfortable.

All that closeness disappeared from him within seconds, the moment reality caught up with him again.

As if he could never truly relax, as if even a night like this came with an expiration date.

“I’m coming with you,” she said before thinking too much about it.

Dante lifted his eyes toward her.

“No.”

“I haven’t even finished the sentence.”

“Precisely.”

Valentina crossed her arms.

“I’m not staying here pretending everything is normal while someone is still harassing you.”

Dante held her gaze for several seconds. He seemed to be debating whether to argue or simply drag her out of the club by force.

Finally, he slowly exhaled.

“This isn’t a game, Valentina.”

“I know that now.”

Something shifted between them again.

From the main terrace came another burst of laughter, followed by Adrian shouting something incomprehensible about Spanish soccer while Olivia was probably actively making the situation worse.

The party was still alive behind them.

Champagne.

Lights.

Music.

Beautiful people pretending nothing bad could reach them up there.

While somewhere on the circuit, someone was getting closer and closer to Dante Moreau.