Dante
The rest of the evening blurred into clinking glasses, fake smiles, and hollow congratulations. But my jaw stayed locked, my eyes never strayed far from Serafina.
She laughed when spoken to, played her role like she was born to it. But all I saw was the way her lips had curved when she told another man “I’d love that.”
Rafé.
I knew the name now. I’d heard the way he said hers—soft, familiar. I’d seen the way her eyes had lingered just a little too long, like there were words left unsaid.
My men circled the room, polite shadows in tailored suits, but I hardly noticed. Every toast, every handshake was background noise.
All I saw was her.
Serafina Caruso. My fiancée. My future. My problem.
She moved through the crowd with Amelia at her side. She didn’t look at me, not on
