Page 19 of Shadows of Steel

Thoroughly.

That smirk, though, should be illegal. And the way it sends a slow, twisting heat through my stomach?

Even more so.

For the briefest of moments, his dark eyes catch mine, and something shifts between us, subtle but undeniable. The air grows heavier, charged with something I can’t, or won’t name.

I rein it in quickly, shutting it down before it can take root. Because there’s no way in hell I’m falling for that.

I don’t do feelings, and I’m certainly not about to start with him.

Besides, I’m supposedly engaged to his nephew.

Which makes this so much worse.

So much more dangerous.

My gaze shifts to Leonardo next, where he stands beside his uncle. He’s undeniably handsome, the kind of man women likely trip over themselves to get close to. With effortlessly tousled hair and a smile that seems crafted to disarm, he exudes an easy confidence, the type that suggests he knows exactly how to wield his charm to his advantage.

But as I take him in, waiting for some kind of reaction, I feel… nothing. No spark. No pull. No lingering heat drawing me closer. Just an empty void where attraction should be.

And that’s for the best.

Relief settles in my chest.

This is business, nothing more.

No emotions, no complications. That’s how it should be. Hopefully, he won’t expect anything beyond that, because the idea of pretending, of forcing a connection that simply isn’t there, feels more exhausting than the marriage itself.

When my eyes find Dante’s again, it’s as if he knows exactly what’s running through my mind. That smirk deepens, his gaze flickering to my lips for the briefest moment before locking backonto mine. The sheer audacity of it sends a slow, unwelcome heat creeping up my neck.

Then he speaks, low and smooth, his voice slicing through the room with command. “I see the introductions are going well.” He muses, amusement laced into every syllable. “I wasn’t sure how this would unfold, but now I’m glad I didn’t miss it.”

“Happy to know we could provide you with some entertainment.” I retort, my tone sharper than intended. I hate the way my breath catches, how easily he unsettles me, like he’s found a way under my skin without even trying.

His smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it deepens, a slow, knowing curve of his lips. “Oh, you’ve done more than that.”

And then, just like that, the moment vanishes. His expression shifts in an instant, as if the weight of the conversation was nothing more than a fleeting amusement.

“Meet your fiancé.” Dante says, his voice deep, rich, and threaded with undeniable authority. “Leonardo Salvatore.”

I don’t miss the subtle clench of his jaw at the word fiancé, a reaction that shouldn’t be there, considering he was the one who insisted on this arrangement in the first place.

Tilting my head slightly, I meet his gaze. “Leonardo.” I acknowledge, my tone cool and devoid of warmth.

He nods. “Harlow.”

The atmosphere is suffocating, thick enough to steal the air from my lungs. Dante’s gaze feels like a weight pressing against my shoulders, heavy, unwavering. His dark eyes linger on me, assessing, challenging. It’s infuriating.

An uneasy silence settles over before Giovanni clears his throat, subtly redirecting the room’s attention.

Dinner is served. Plates are filled, wine is poured, and conversation flows, but a quiet weight lingers, threading through every interaction like an invisible thread.

Later, papers are laid out, signatures exchanged, and the night unfolds with contracts signed and alliances cemented.

My life, signed away.

As the full weight of what has just transpired settles over me, Dante’s voice cuts through the room, demanding attention once more. “Tomorrow,” he announces, his tone absolute, brooking no argument, “the engagement party will take place.”