Dante
The clock ticked louder than it should have. Fifteen minutes had come and gone.
Matteo lounged on the couch like it was his own damn office, flipping through his phone. Every so often, he glanced at the time and smirked.
“You’re pacing in your head,” he said lazily. “Why not just admit it?”
I didn’t answer. My jaw tightened as I checked the clock again. Twenty-two minutes.
Serafina Caruso had replied fifteen minutes. And yet, here I was, waiting like some fool who didn’t know better. She was testing me. Deliberately.
“She’s making you wait,” Matteo added, grin sharp. “Smart girl. Knows it’ll get under your skin.” “She’s playing with fire.”
“Maybe.” He set his phone aside.
“Or maybe she knows that the longer she makes you wait, the more you’ll want to devour her the s
