Chapter 2: She Knocks on Dante's Door

Elena's POV

I watched as Kevin's eyes darkened, watched as his fingers twitched by his side… and for some strange reason, a smile broke free across my lips.

“Elen—”

I hit the button and stepped inside, letting the door close fully this time on Kevin's glare.

The second it closed, I took heavy breaths, mentally wishing it could go any faster. My feet couldn't stop drumming against the floor till the bell finally clicked and the doors slid open.

I stepped out before I could think, heading through the familiar way till I was face to face with the last thing holding me back.

I couldn't even knock twice.

But the door flung open almost immediately after the first knock, Dante Valenti filling the frame whole.

He was still in the dark suit he had worn downstairs, but had his tie loosened around his neck.

His eyes dropped and I followed it, going straight to my wrist, the red bruise Kevin’s fingers had left vivid against my skin.

He looked at it for a long second but didn't reach for me, didn't even ask if I was all right. He just stepped aside.

And against the little scared Elena inside me, I walked in. The penthouse was quiet, lit only by a single bulb near the windows.

I realised I was still holding the bottle of champagne without thinking when Dante closed the door and reached for it, taking it and setting it on the table beside the door.

“Speak,” he said in a low voice. “While you’re sober. Tell me why you’re here.”

I met his eyes, the same dark pair that had watched me present my plans and security overlays without a glimpse of doubt.

“I want to do something Kevin will never forgive,” I whispered, feeling it more to myself than him.

Silence stretched between us, but he didn't react. He simply waited.

“I wouldn’t have come if it was anyone else behind this door,” I added, the words coming out quieter than I expected. “You know that.”

His eyes went in a bit while his large arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the table. I knew he remembered the meetings too.

Knew he remembered the times senior partners had dismissed my notes on historic load paths or camera placement, and he'd had quietly forced the room to take my work seriously with one word.

He had never made a show of it, just simply refused to let them talk over me.

But even with that, he was still Kevin’s stepfather. The man who was supposed to sit among the groom’s elders tomorrow morning while I walked down the aisle.

I stepped forward, leaning against him and pressing my body against his.

“El—”

Before he could say anything to stop me, I reached up and pressed my lips against his.

For a second, he did not move, then his hands came up and gently pushed me back by half a step.

I could feel his palms warm against my skin through the thin fabric of my dress. Exactly the heat my body craved.

“Will you blame the wine in the morning?” He asked, and I looked at the bottle of champagne, then reached past him, pushing the bottle away and kissing him again.

This time, he answered.

He kissed me once--slow and controlled, giving me every chance to pull away. I didn't.

When we broke apart, he reached into his pocket, took out his phone, and typed a short command. I heard the soft electronic lock engage somewhere in the system.

"Kevin's access to this floor is revoked," he said. "Permanently."

"And if he comes up anyway?"

Dante didn't even look toward the door. "He won't."

Then his eyes returned to me. "The rest is your choice."

He didn't touch me again, just waited, waiting for my next move.

I felt in control, I felt like the hunter for once.

I reached for his tie, yanking the knot loose, then shoved him back against the wall. His breath left his lips in a soft rush.

Then his hands wrapped around my waist and reversed our positions in one smooth motion, pinning me gently but firmly against the wall.

His lips found the corner of mine, then the line of my jaw, then the sensitive skin just below my ear. Heat pooling every spot his lips touched.

His palms rested at my waist, just over the silk of my gown, then he kissed down the side of my throat slowly, till he reached the edge of my collarbone.

He stopped there and slid a thumb under the thin shoulder strap of my dress, but didn't push it down.

He simply held it there and lifted his head so I had to meet his eyes.

He had my wrist up, Claire's scent suddenly filling my air from it and burning inside me again. My body went stiff under his.

Dante must have felt it instantly as he simply slowed down, his hands still steady at my waist while his lips hovered just above my skin, giving me the space to decide.

I closed the distance myself, taking his wrists and guiding his hands back to my shoulders, pressing them against my skin till the strap slid down my arm.

My other hand reached behind me, found the lock and turned it, finally loosening the thin barrier.

Dante’s eyes darkened before he lifted me off the floor, my gown pushing up my thighs as my legs wrapped around his waist.

Then his lips returned to mine, deeper now, pushing away the thought of revenge I'd come here for.

I locked my ankles around his torso and buried my fingers in his hair, letting the night take the rest.

When he finally carried me away from the wall, I reached down towards the door, twisted the key from the lock, and pressed it into his open palm.

"Do not make me regret tonight," I said roughly. "And do not treat me like someone who needs rescuing."

His fingers closed around the key. "Good. I don't rescue women who can choose for themselves." His gaze dropped briefly to the bruise on my wrist. "But I do deal with men who ignore their choices."