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“Yeah,” Anya said, clearing her throat and forcing herself to smile.
“Great. I’ve made dinner reservations.”
Dante’s eyes sharpened, locking onto Anya. But she didn’t meet his gaze.
‘He already left me so many times. I won’t give him another chance to do it again,’ Anya told herself, swallowing the ache in her chest. She slipped her arm into Luca’s.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Luca’s face softened, a rare warmth in his eyes as he walked beside her. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked quietly.
Behind them, Dante stood frozen, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. The calm he’d arrived with had completely vanished, replaced by a furious storm of jealousy, hurt, and frustration, and the searing pain of watching her walk away, arm linked with another man.
***
Luca gently guided Anya to her seat inside the grand hotel’s private dining room. She hadn’t expected them to come somewhere so lavish for dinner—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, velvet curtains framed towering windows, and golden accents gleamed under soft, ambient lighting.
But then Luca smiled at her, and she didn’t want to think too much into it. Quietly, she settled beside him.
The place was luxurious. A delicate balance of peaceful intimacy and extravagant luxury. Soft piano music drifted in the background, mingling with the low hum of distant city life beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. To the left, the breathtaking skyline stretched endlessly—a sparkling painting of lights that seemed to hush the world’s noise.
Luca picked up the menu, his finger tracing a few of the chef’s specials as he quietly suggested dishes. Anya nodded, returning his smile and telling him which ones she preferred for herself.
But a few tables away, a pair of burning eyes never left them. Dante sat with arms folded tightly across his chest, his jaw clenched like he was barely holding something back.
Jennifer, who had been standing nearby, noticed the tension and cautiously approached the table. Leaning in slightly, she lowered her voice. “Sir,” she said politely, “Would you like to order anything? I can bring something for you.”
Dante’s fiery glare snapped to Jennifer, freezing her in place. “Do I look hungry?” he snapped through gritted teeth, voice low and sharp enough to cut glass.
“S-Sorry, sir,” Jennifer stammered, swallowing hard before scurrying back to the shadowed corner where she’d been standing moments before, trying not to draw any more attention.
Back at Anya’s table, Luca lifted a delicate bite of food with his spoon, the aroma enticing. He placed it carefully on Anya’s plate. “Try this. It’s very tasty. If you like it, I’ll order it for you too.”
Anya’s eyes softened, and a genuine smile lifted her lips. “Thanks, Luca.” She glanced at him warmly, grateful for the quiet care in his gesture.
Suddenly, Luca’s expression shifted—his brows knitting slightly in concern. He reached for a tissue and gently brushed the corner of her mouth. “There was something on your lips.”
Anya blinked, cheeks coloring as she subconsciously grabbed another tissue and wiped again, a little embarrassed.
“All done,” Luca grinned and nodded before lifting a piece of crab to her lips. “Here. Try this too.”
Caught off guard, Anya blinked, then instinctively parted her lips. Luca fed her the bite with careful tenderness.
Meanwhile, across the room, Dante’s glare darkened and intensified until the fork in his hand bent under the pressure. His eyes never left them, and Anya suddenly felt the intensity of his burning stare. Her head turned slightly in confusion, and that’s when she caught a brief glimpse of him.
‘Did he just follow me here?’ she thought, her brows drawing together in confusion. But then a sly smile curved her lips. ‘If he wants me to spite him… who am I to waste the opportunity?’
She immediately leaned closer to Luca, closing every inch of space between them, and lifted her spoon. “Here,” she said sweetly, offering him her risotto, “Since you let me try yours, you should try mine too.”
Luca’s eyes widened slightly in surprise but quickly melted. He opened his mouth, took a bite, and let out a low hum. “Mmm… This is actually very good. I’ll order it for myself next time.”
“Sure,” Anya replied coyly, then reached out with a soft touch to wipe the corner of Luca’s lips with her thumb.
That small, intimate gesture was the final straw.
Dante exploded from his seat, standing so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor.
His eyes blazed with raw fury as he stormed toward their table, every step radiating anger and desperation.