KALEIDOSCOPE

Chapter 3: Dangerous Attraction

The next few days felt like a blur to Victoria. She went through the motions—meetings, calls, emails—trying to maintain the illusion of control, of normalcy. But the image of Dante Biancho, his bloodied hands and fierce eyes, haunted her at every turn.

It wasn’t just that he had saved her. That part, the life-or-death rescue, was easy to compartmentalize. What gnawed at her, what kept her up at night, was the way she felt when he looked at her.

There was an intensity in his gaze, something raw and untamed, that made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in years. It was unsettling. He was dangerous—too dangerous—but there was no denying the pull.

She wasn’t the type to entertain such thoughts. For as long as she could remember, her life had been about control. About getting the job done, achieving the impossible, keeping her distance from anything that threatened her carefully constructed walls.

But Dante wasn’t just anyone.

The clock on her office wall ticked relentlessly, marking the passage of time. Victoria leaned back in her chair, staring out at the skyline. Her mind drifted, replaying the encounter on the bridge and in the alley. She had barely known the man, yet he had left a mark on her—one she wasn’t sure how to erase.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. The text was from her father.

Meet me at the office. Now.

Victoria sighed and stood, grabbing her coat. The tension between them had been growing for weeks, and this latest failure was only adding fuel to the fire. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what came next, but she had no choice but to face it.

The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped into her father’s office, a place that had once felt like home. Now, it felt more like a prison.

Richard Evans was seated at his desk, flipping through papers, his posture rigid as usual. He didn’t even look up when she entered.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, her voice cool despite the knot in her stomach.

“Yes,” he said, finally glancing up. His gaze was sharp, calculating. “I’ve been reviewing your recent performance.”

Victoria didn’t flinch, though the words stung. “And?”

He folded his hands on the desk, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve been slipping, Victoria. The board’s starting to ask questions. And frankly, so am I.”

Her jaw tightened, but she forced herself to remain calm. “I’m doing everything I can, but you know as well as I do that this merger was out of my control.”

Richard’s eyes darkened. “Don’t give me excuses. I want results.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a menacing tone. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep protecting you.”

The words were like a slap. Protecting her? He had never protected her—he had used her.

Victoria clenched her fists, fighting the urge to lash out. “I’ll fix it,” she said through gritted teeth. “I always do.”

Her father didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at her, as though trying to gauge whether she meant it. Finally, he nodded, but the look in his eyes was cold, distant.

“See that you do,” he said. “Or you won’t be in a position to fix anything ever again.”

The drive home was torturously silent. Victoria’s thoughts churned. How had she gotten here? How had everything spiraled so out of control? And what was it that kept pulling her thoughts back to Dante?

She parked in her garage, staring at her phone screen as the rain battered against the windows. There was a message waiting for her. It wasn’t from her father or anyone at the office. It was from an unknown number.

Hey pretty issue. -D

Her pulse quickened. Dante.

She didn’t know why, but the message made her feel something—something more dangerous than the emptiness she’d been fighting. She stared at the screen for a long time, her finger hovering over the keyboard.

Alot of thoughts ran through her mind at once, then she wondered how he even got her number

Thank you for saving me.

The words felt hollow, too simple for what she felt. She deleted them before they were sent. She wasn’t the kind of woman who responded to text messages like this.

And yet, despite herself, she couldn’t stop the curiosity gnawing at her.

Two days later, the message came again.

Are you avoiding me, or are you just too busy to talk?

This time, she couldn’t resist. She hesitated for a moment before typing back.

I’m not avoiding you.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately with his response.

Good. Then let’s meet. I think we need to talk.

Victoria frowned. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but something in her gut told her this wasn’t a request. It was an invitation.

Later that evening, she stood outside a dimly lit bar, rain softly falling against her skin. She wasn’t sure why she had agreed to meet him, but the pull was undeniable. Something about Dante Biancho—his presence, his power, the raw intensity that radiated off him—had wormed its way into her mind.

As the door opened, she saw him standing inside, his back to the wall, watching the crowd. His eyes immediately locked onto hers as she entered, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

“Pretty issue.” His voice was like gravel, low and rough. “I’m glad you came.”

She swallowed, suddenly aware of how little she knew about this man who had, in a matter of days, turned her world upside down.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” she replied, the words sharper than she intended, and my name is not 'Pretty Issue'

Dante’s lips curled into a small, amused smile. “You always have a choice. The question is, what are you going to do with it? And since we're on the topic, what is the name then?"

Victoria didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know what was happening between them, but she felt a tension growing, like a storm building just beneath the surface. The sound of a chair scraping the ground brought her back, "My name is Victoria, Victoria Evans"

Dante didn’t take his eyes off her, his stare made Victoria feel uneasy, but safe at the same time. She was not in control of the situation, even if she wanted to, she couldn’t.

But for now, all she could do was take a seat and brace herself for whatever Dante had in mind.