Dante's POV
I had never expected that night to go the way it did. Not with her. Not with the woman whose face I couldn’t get out of my mind since the moment she first collided with me outside the club days ago.
And definitely not with my body reacting, actually reacting, for the first time in years. But it happened.
And the lingering shock of it still pulsed faintly under my skin as I sat on the edge of the bed in the private room, trying to slow my breathing. The session had ended. But the effect hadn’t. The room was dim, the soft, warm lighting designed to make guests feel relaxed, safe, enveloped. I knew every inch of this space; I had personally overseen its design, monitored feedback, and tweaked details. I’d built this club from the ground up with the most clinical, detached purp
