Page 28 of Shadows of Steel

The valet stiffens, his throat bobbing as he nods quickly and rushes away. Dante watches him for a beat, then turns hisattention back to me. The tension between us simmers like a slow-burning flame, and I wonder if he can feel it too.

I hate him.

I hate that he’s in control.

I hate that he’s won.

But most of all, I hate the way he makes me feel.

The car pulls up. Dante opens the door for me, his gaze heavy. I slide inside without a word, my pulse still uneven, my mind still racing. He follows, settling into the driver’s seat. Behind him, his men slip into their respective vehicles, ready to trail us to my apartment. Silence fills the space between us as we pull away, the city lights flickering past in a blur.

The night may be over.

But something tells me this is only the beginning.

Chapter 10

Harlow

When we pull up in front of my apartment, the street is quiet, the air thick with the remnants of the engagement party still clinging to my skin. But my focus sharpens when I spot Piero and Giorgio already stationed outside, standing with the kind of stillness that comes from being on high alert.

Dante kills the engine, his men exiting their vehicles behind us. Without a word, he steps out, moving with authority. He comes around to my side, opening the door for me, his hand lingering on the frame as I step out.

As we approach the building, my steps slow.

He isn’t leaving.

Dante walks beside me in silence, a shadow at my back as we reach the door. Piero gives a subtle nod and pulls it open, his stance rigid, gaze flickering between us.

“Stay here.” Dante orders, his voice absolute. “We won’t be long. Be alert.”

“Yes, boss.” Piero replies immediately.

My jaw tightens. “Surely you mean you'll return soon, I have no intention of going anywhere.”

Dante casts a cool glance in my direction. “You'll pack your things and accompany me. We're leaving for Naples tonight.”

His voice is smooth, but there’s no room for argument. “I refuse to remain on Ricci territory a moment longer.”

I exhale slowly, struggling to maintain my composure. “Allow me a few more days, until the wedding, at the very least. You've interfered quite enough already.”

His expression hardens. “You’ll soon discover that I despise repeating myself, Harlow.”

“Then perhaps you should stop talking.”

His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he turns and starts up the stairs, forcing me to follow. The closer we get tomy apartment, the heavier the air becomes. A prickle of unease creeps down my spine, something unspoken whispering at the edges of my mind.

Something is wrong.

Dante notices my shift in my composure, his steps slowing as we approach the door.

It’s cracked open.

A sliver of darkness stretches beyond the threshold, and my stomach drops.

“I locked it before I left.” I whisper softly.

Dante's gaze flicks toward me, sharply assessing. “Are you certain?”