Chapter 6: The Confrontation

“It’s not what you think,” she said.

Her voice was barely audible even to her own ears.

“No.”

Dante stood in one fluid motion.

Circling the desk until he loomed over her.

His cologne, expensive and subtle, notes of cedar and something darkly spiced, enveloped her as he leaned down.

One hand on each armrest of her chair.

Caging her in.

“Then explain to me, cara mia, why the woman I’ve welcomed into my life is meeting secretly with a police detective.”

“Explain to me why you would betray my trust this way.”

The hurt in his voice, buried beneath layers of cold anger, was what frightened her most.

In the weeks she’d known him, she’d come to recognize that beneath the ruthless exterior was a man driven by a code of loyalty that bordered on obsession.

And in his eyes, she had broken that code.

“He approached me at the restaurant,” she said.

“He said he needed to talk to me about Marco.”

A muscle twitched in Dante’s jaw.

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“I was scared,” she whispered.

It wasn’t a lie.

She had been terrified of the detective.

Of what he knew.

Of what Dante would do if he found out.

“He said he had questions about Marco’s assault. That I was a person of interest. I didn’t want to worry you.”

Dante straightened.

Studying her with those impenetrable dark eyes.

“You didn’t want to worry me,” he repeated.

His tone made it clear how ridiculous he found that notion.

“So instead, you meet him in secret and lie to my face when I ask where you’re going.”

He moved away suddenly.

Pacing the length of his office with controlled fury.

She watched him.

This beautiful, dangerous man who had inserted himself into her life with the relentless force of a natural disaster.

In just three weeks, he had made himself essential to her existence.

Through fear, yes.

But also through unexpected kindnesses.

Through the genuine interest he showed in Lily.

Through the way he looked at her sometimes, like she was a miracle he hadn’t dared hope for.

“Dante,” she said softly.

Using his first name despite knowing how it would affect him.

He stopped pacing.

His attention snapping back to her.

“I made a mistake. I should have told you. But I was trying to protect you, too.”

He laughed.

A harsh sound devoid of humor.

“Protect me? You think I need protection from a mid-level detective who can barely tie his own shoes without department approval?”

“I know what he really wanted,” she continued.

Forcing herself to hold his gaze.

“He wasn’t interested in Marco. He wanted information about you. About your business. He thought he could use me to get to you.”

“And could he?”

Dante asked.

Suddenly very still.

She stood on shaking legs.

Gathering courage she didn’t know she possessed.

“No,” she said firmly.

“I told him nothing. I would never betray you that way.”

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