Serafina
The house was too quiet after Dante left.
Silence pressed against me, heavier than his hand had been at my back. I couldn’t shake it—the curl of Dom Costa’s smile, the way his eyes had dragged across me like I was already tagged and priced.
I kicked off my shoes, pacing the length of my bedroom. My pulse hadn’t slowed since that damn Maserati purred away from the curb. My fingers kept drifting to the ring on my hand. What had felt like a symbol of defiance yesterday now looked like a target.
Anger helped. It steadied the fear threatening to creep in. Anger was mine; fear belonged to him.
“You’ve been pacing for twenty minutes.”
I spun. Adriano leaned against my doorframe, jacket off, sleeves rolled, tie hanging loose. His dark eyes studied me with the same sharpness Da
