Dante
The club was quieter than usual. The regulars had cleared out, leaving only the thrum of low music and the faint clink of glassware.
Nico was at the bar, flipping through reports. Matteo lounged in the corner with a cigar, his grin sharp even in the haze of smoke.
I sat in my office, the door cracked just enough to hear the pulse of bass from the main floor. It was late, too late to still be here, but I wasn’t ready to face the silence of my penthouse. Not tonight. Not after the way Serafina had looked at me earlier, like I was both the man she hated and the man she couldn’t stop wanting.
The door creaked wider. Matteo’s voice carried in, lazy and amused. “You’ve got company.” I didn’t look up until I heard the click of heels.
Eva.
She stepped inside like she still belong
