ISABELLA
Dante seemed to embody everything I knew I should stay away from. His demeanor reminded me far too much of Antonio's, cold, commanding, and dangerous.
He looked completely different from the men who usually hit on me. He had polished charm replaced with something darker that I couldn't quite define.
He wore black trousers and a fitted black shirt, and a faint scar marked his left cheek.
When I noticed the motorcycle keys he had placed on the table, it hit me that he had ridden here, confirming my first impression that he was the kind of man who lived on the edge.
"Tell me how a woman as beautiful as you isn't in a relationship with a man who can take care of you properly," he said, his voice smooth and flirtatious.
I pushed away my intrusive thoughts and let ou
