For You

SHE'S BEAUTIFUL. AND ALLURING AS HELL! (DANTE)

Why the hell did I come here? For coffee.

Why the hell am I still here? Apparently, I’m a newly awakened stalker.

And I’m pretty damn sure I’m one mistake away from getting thrown out by her—or at least by her overprotective friends. Not that they could move me, but they could try.

She hasn’t even looked my way yet, and I’ve been sitting in this damn chair for over two hours, doing nothing but staring at her. My phone has been vibrating nonstop for the last forty-five minutes, but I haven’t even glanced at it.

And why is that?

Because she’s so damn cute and alluring at the same time.

How does someone manage to look like both a delicate doll and a lethal empress? It should be a crime.

The kinder one of her friends said something to her, finally drawing her attention to me. The moment her gaze locked onto mine, I swear she was staring straight into the soul I thought I lost that night.

She c****d her head, then shrugged at her friend after replying. Yeah, pretty sure she thinks I’m a creep now.

Rubbing my face, I checked the time—1:15 PM.

Damn. I should enter a staring contest at this point.

Remembering I had to meet Mr. Caprioni by two, I emptied my cup and stole one last glance at her—only to catch her studying me like I was some kind of microorganism under a microscope.

Dragging a hand down my face, I got up and walked out of the café.

And I was damn sure I’d be coming back. Every. Damn. Day.

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“Dante, my boy! How have you been?” Mr. Caprioni greeted me with a crushing hug. For a fifty-year-old man, he was surprisingly strong.

“I’m doing well, Mr. Caprioni. And how is the Caprioni family?” I asked as we took our seats.

“We’re all fine. And I’ve told you to drop the formalities. Call me Marco. You are as much my son as Antonio is,” Mr. Caprioni—no, Marco—chided.

“Thank you for your kindness, Marco. I’ll forever be indebted to you,” I said, bowing my head slightly.

Marco—a man of both grace and ruthlessness. A leader who ruled with an iron fist yet still possessed unwavering kindness. He had taken me in, despite my past, sheltering me, feeding me, treating me like his own. He had my respect. Always.

“Oh, stop it, Dante. You flatter me,” he chuckled.

I looked at him and, for the hundredth time, wished he had been my father instead of that bastard.

Then he smirked.

“A little birdie informed me about your extended stay at a café today,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

I tensed. My mind immediately ran through my list of employees, trying to pinpoint who had sold me out.

“I was there for coffee, Marco,” I said, attempting a defense—though I already sounded like a sore loser.

Marco snorted. “And that took you three and a half hours? You can’t fool me, Dante.”

Avoiding his gaze seemed like the best move in this situation.

“If you don’t tell me about her, I will go to that café myself and help your sorry ass out,” he added smugly.

I was pretty damn sure he had been a troublemaker in his youth.

Sighing, I finally gave in.

“I don’t even know her name yet,” I admitted. “I just know she’s beautiful. And alluring as hell.”

Marco grinned like a proud parent. “Finally, someone caught your eye. I was starting to think you were asexual.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just don’t meet her yet. You’ll scare her away. She seems like a flight risk.”

The amusement in his eyes didn’t waver, but he nodded.

Well, s**t.