CHAPTER SIX: BETWEEN THE SILENCES
1049 Words
Dante Cross wasn’t a man who second-guessed himself.
When he wanted something, he took it. Clean. Efficient. Without apology.
So why the hell was Luna Rae still in his head?
He sat in his office at the villa, the late morning sunlight spilling across polished mahogany. Papers lay scattered on the desk in front of him, deals worth millions waiting for his signature—but his pen hovered uselessly over the page.
Instead, his mind replayed the night before. The way her small frame had been held between those three idiots on the street. The slap she’d given one of them—sharp, defiant, even when she was outnumbered. And then the way she’d shivered in his car, staring out the window like she wasn’t sure the world was safe anymore.
Dante leaned back in his chair, jaw tight. This wasn’t like him. He’d told himself he wanted her because she was different—because there was a sharpness in her eyes that most women in his world didn’t have. But it was more than that.
Without admitting it aloud, he’d already made a decision last night.
That was why, early this morning, he’d called in a favor from someone who owed him more than money. A man named Marcus Kane—ex-special forces, now working private security for people with problems money couldn’t solve. Dante gave him one simple job: watch Luna Rae. Keep her safe. No questions. No mistakes.
Marcus had been shadowing her since dawn.
The office door creaked open without a knock. Dante’s eyes flicked up, his sharpness returning instantly.
Susan stepped inside, wearing her usual air of self-assurance. She wasn’t technically his girlfriend, but she liked to pretend otherwise. A polished socialite with an enviable last name and a perfect smile, she’d been a convenient companion at events for the past few months. Convenient… but replaceable.
She glided toward him, hips swaying with intention.
“You’ve been distant lately,” she said softly, coming to stand behind his chair. Her hands landed on his shoulders, nails perfectly manicured, and began to knead. “Longer hours. Shorter calls. What’s going on, Dante?”
“I have a lot on my plate,” he said evenly, eyes still on the papers before him. His tone wasn’t cold—just final.
Susan’s thumbs pressed into the tense muscles of his neck. “You know I could help you unwind.”
Dante stood abruptly, stepping away from her touch and toward the tall windows overlooking the sprawling garden. “Not now, Susan.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re not even looking at me.”
He turned just enough to meet her eyes. “Kindly let me be so I can finish up.”
The dismissal was clear.
Susan’s brows pinched in confusion, but she said nothing else, heels clicking sharply against the floor as she left the office. The door closed behind her, and Dante’s phone was in his hand within seconds.
He dialed Marcus.
“Where is she?”
“At home,” the bodyguard replied without hesitation. “Hasn’t left all day. Curtains are drawn. No visitors.”
Dante’s brows drew together. “She called in sick?”
“That’s what I heard from the club’s floor manager. Want me to check on her?”
“No,” Dante said, after a beat too long. “Just keep eyes on her. I want to know if anything changes.”
“Understood.”
The line went dead, but Dante kept the phone in his hand, staring at the black screen like it held answers. He didn’t like this unsettled feeling. It wasn’t just about desire anymore. It was about control—about finding out what she was hiding, who she was hiding from, and why he suddenly felt like he needed to protect her from the world.
Across the city, Luna Rae sat cross-legged on her bed, the curtains pulled shut against the afternoon light. The quiet felt heavy, pressing against her ears until even her own breathing sounded too loud.
She’d told Tony she wasn’t feeling well, which wasn’t a total lie. Her stomach had been in knots since the night before. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the sneers of those men, the rough grip on her wrists, the slap she’d given without thinking.
But worse than that was the question clawing at her—Who were they?
Random drunks? Maybe. But something in her gut told her no. The way one of them had looked at her, like he already knew her name…
Her mind drifted back to Adrian. The obsessive ex she’d worked so hard to escape. The man who could smile sweetly while his hand was around her throat. If he’d found her again—
She forced herself to stop the thought before it spiraled.
Sliding off the bed, Luna padded barefoot to the coffee table to grab the TV remote. Her fingers brushed against something else—small, rectangular. She looked down.
The card.
Dante’s card.
She’d dropped it there last night when she got home, meaning to throw it away in the morning. She hadn’t.
The black lettering looked expensive, the weight of it almost arrogant in her hand.
She didn’t want it. At least… that’s what she told herself.
But she hadn’t thrown it away either.
Luna set it back down, flipping it so the number faced the table, as if that would erase the temptation. She didn’t need another powerful man in her life, especially one who looked at her like she was already his.
Still, a part of her—small, stubborn—couldn’t forget the way he’d appeared last night, his presence slicing through the chaos like it was nothing.
And the truth was, if he hadn’t… she didn’t know how that night would’ve ended.
Back in his villa, Dante returned to his desk, but the papers still lay untouched. He was thinking of Luna again—the way her eyes had narrowed when he’d asked how much she’d cost, the way her voice had gone sharp when she told him she wasn’t a possession.
She was hiding something.
And Dante Cross had built an empire on uncovering secrets.
One way or another, he was going to find out hers.
- Writer
