Page 41

“No, I don’t think so,” Charles replied evenly.
Janet’s smile returned, wide and satisfied. She reached into the bag she had brought and handed over a few boxes.
“These are a few souvenirs Dante picked out for you,” she said, presenting them with a sugary grin.
Then, without waiting for further discussion, she turned and left with Dante by her side.
***
Anya stood hesitantly outside Dante’s office, her heart pounding. After what happened the day before, she was rattled. Even though they didn’t know she was Annie, the close call had shaken her.
She had been living on edge for so long that even the smallest incident threatened to unravel her carefully maintained control. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and stepped inside.
The office was empty.
Relieved, she began to back away—but suddenly, Dante appeared right in front of her, blocking the door.
She gasped and stumbled back, retreating into the room.
Dante walked in, letting the door close behind him as he headed straight for his desk. Anya hesitated, then followed after him.
“Oh, I just came to give you your coffee,” she said quickly, extending the cup toward him.
He took the cup from her hand without a word and placed it on the table beside him.
Confused by his silence, Anya turned to leave. But before she could take a step, Dante suddenly wrapped his arms around her from behind and lifted her clean off the ground.
He carried her effortlessly and set her down—right on top of the table in his office.
She gasped in surprise, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
She tried to push herself down, but he stepped closer, his body pressing against hers. His hand gripped her hip, holding her in place.
Her heart pounded as her wide eyes flicked from him to the door and back again. “What... what are you doing?” she repeated, her voice low and shaky, trying to slide off the table.
Then he pulled something from his pocket.
It was a sleek black case.
Opening it, he took out a pair of rectangular glasses and gently slid them onto her nose, adjusting them with precise care.
“Don’t wear contact lenses all the time,” he muttered, fingers grazing the frame before trailing softly down her cheek in a feather-light caress.
Their eyes locked.
“It must be uncomfortable all day,” he added in a low, deep voice. “You shouldn't strain yourself.”
Anya stared at him, confused, her brows knitting together.
Seeing the look in her eyes, Dante cleared his throat and looked away. “I got them for free from a store. Came with something I bought. That’s why I brought them. Take them or leave them.”
But even before she could respond, his expression shifted—growing impatient. His fingers reached for the glasses, beginning to take them off. “Forget it. If you don’t want them—”
“No!” she caught his wrist with a laugh, shrugging him off. “You gave them to me. Now they’re mine. Stop it.”
For a moment, Dante froze. Then his frown softened. A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Anya felt a sudden flutter in her chest, her heart racing as his smile made her feel both flustered and strangely elated.