The Bad Boy I Couldn't Escape

Chapter 12

Selene’s P.O.V

I didn’t know why his words made my stomach twist.

“There’s an event tonight. And I want you there. By my side.”

He had said it so calmly, so intimately, that I had nodded before even thinking about it. Maybe it was the way he looked at me—like I was the only one who mattered. Or maybe it was because I didn’t want to disappoint him. Not after everything that had happened between us.

But now, standing in front of the mirror, I wasn’t so sure.

The dress laid out on the bed was unlike anything I had ever worn. Silk. Black. Elegant but daring. It hugged every curve and shimmered under the lights, and the heels that came with it made me feel both powerful and vulnerable. Like I was stepping into someone else’s world.

Maybe I was.

Emma helped me get ready—though she barely said a word. I noticed the way her eyes kept darting toward me in the mirror, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. I didn’t press. Not tonight.

“He picked this out for you,” she finally murmured as she zipped me up.

I blinked. “What?”

“The dress. The heels. Even the necklace.”

My fingers rose to the small diamond around my neck. A quiet statement. Simple but expensive. Dante hadn’t said anything when he gave it to me earlier. Just clasped it gently around my neck and kissed my shoulder before walking away like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I stared at myself in the mirror, unsure of the girl looking back at me.

Was this still me? Or was I becoming someone else?

A knock sounded at the door before I could answer that question.

Lucas entered with a soft smile. “Boss is ready for you.”

“Right,” I whispered, wiping my sweaty palms on the silk of the dress. “Let’s go.”

The hallway outside was quiet but lined with guards. They didn’t look at me with suspicion anymore. No, now they simply nodded with respect, even the stoic ones who rarely spoke. I didn’t understand it fully, but I followed Lucas through the mansion until we reached the large marble staircase.

And there he was.

Dante.

In a black suit that hugged his tall frame perfectly, with a silk pocket square that matched my dress. His hair was slicked back, jaw freshly shaved, and those piercing blue eyes locked onto me the moment I came into view.

His lips curved into a slow, devastating smile.

He climbed the stairs toward me—not rushed, not casual. Like a man approaching a queen.

When he reached me, he took my hand without a word and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“You look like sin,” he said lowly, almost reverently. “And tonight, you stand beside me.”

I swallowed, unsure of what he meant—but I nodded anyway.

Hand in hand, we walked through the mansion and out into the courtyard.

That’s when I saw them.

Hundreds of people.

Men in sharp suits. Women in gowns. Security lined the edges of the estate, armed and alert. Cars I’d only ever seen in movies were parked along the entrance, and voices murmured in different languages as we passed.

I clung to Dante’s hand a little tighter.

“Just smile,” he whispered.

So I did.

But my heart was thundering in my chest.

Because something about this night—about these people—felt different. Dangerous. Electric.

And I had no idea that by the end of the night, I wouldn’t just be Dante’s date...

…I would be his declaration of war.

If this was Dante’s world, it was made of marble, shadows, and secrets.

The courtyard looked like something out of a dream—lights strung like stars above our heads, white roses and blood-red orchids cascading from golden stands, and music softly humming from a grand piano tucked in the corner. Waiters moved through the crowd in crisp white shirts and black vests, offering champagne and hors d’oeuvres I couldn’t pronounce.

I felt like a doll dressed up for a show I didn’t understand.

Everyone stared as we walked in. The women watched Dante like he was something to devour. The men… they looked at me with quiet calculation, their eyes flicking from my necklace to Dante’s arm around my waist. I straightened my spine, not because I was confident—but because if I didn’t, I would crumble.

Dante’s fingers pressed possessively into my hip, his touch grounding me.

“You’re doing perfect,” he murmured.

I smiled up at him because I didn’t know what else to do. But inside, I was a mess of nerves. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being paraded in front of people who saw more than I could. People who didn’t just see the silk dress or diamond necklace—but the threat hidden behind Dante’s smile.

A tall man with slick gray hair and a cigar approached us first. He kissed Dante on both cheeks in that old-world European way, then looked at me as if assessing my soul.

“This must be her,” he said in thickly accented English. “The one who’s tamed the lion.”

Dante’s arm tightened around me. “She’s not here to tame anyone. She’s here because she belongs to me.”

The man chuckled darkly. “Ah, of course.”

I gave a small nod, unsure if I should say anything. The man didn’t seem to care either way. He disappeared back into the crowd, leaving me clinging to Dante like a lifeline.

“Who was that?” I whispered.

“Someone who needed to see you beside me,” he replied calmly, steering me toward another group.

There were more introductions. Names I couldn’t remember. Men who shook Dante’s hand and kissed my knuckles with too-cold lips. Women who smiled but didn’t mean it. I tried to keep smiling, tried to keep pretending I belonged.

“Is this… a celebration?” I asked eventually, when we stood near the fountain under a flickering chandelier. “Everyone’s dressed like royalty.”

Dante looked down at me, expression unreadable. “In a way, yes.”

I frowned. “For what?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached for a glass of wine and handed it to me. “Just stay close. That’s all I ask.”

Stay close.

Why did that feel more like a warning than a request?

A woman passed by wearing a dress that sparkled like starlight and smiled at Dante like she’d known him in ways I hadn’t. But Dante didn’t even glance at her. His attention was fully on me. Always on me.

“You're nervous,” he murmured.

I nodded. “I feel like I’m in a movie. Like I’m playing a role I didn’t audition for.”

“You’re not playing a role,” he said, brushing a curl behind my ear. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”

But something about the way he said it—low, fierce, almost possessive—made my stomach twist again.

The music changed.

Everyone turned toward the grand steps leading down from the upper floor. A hush fell over the crowd. I followed their gaze… and froze.

An older man stood at the top. Tall. Harsh. With steel-gray hair and cold eyes that landed on me like a blade.

Dante’s hand went rigid on my hip.

“That’s my father,” he said, voice colder than I’d ever heard it.

My breath caught.

Oh.

Suddenly the tension in the air made sense. Suddenly, I wasn’t just Dante’s date. I was something more.

A statement. A rebellion. A threat.

And I had no idea what I’d stepped into.