I’m a lawyer. I rely on hard evidence, logic, and rational thought. So, someone please explain to me why I am currently peering through my peephole like a paranoid stalker. It’s midnight, and Dante’s door is opening. A stunning, leggy brunette in a red slip dress steps out into the hallway. She trails a manicured hand down Dante’s chest. He says something low, his face an impassive mask, before pressing a thick white envelope into her hands.

My chest tightens with an ugly, visceral jolt of jealousy. It’s none of your business, Elara, I tell myself. He’s a dangerous, older man who likely runs an illicit underground empire. But logic goes out the window when I remember the heat of his hands covering mine.

The next morning, I overcompensate. I wear my sharpest blazer, highest heels, and a coat of confidence as I head to the elevator. The doors are closing when a large hand catches the metal. Dante steps in, filling the small space with his imposing presence. He hits the button for the lobby and turns his dark, heavy gaze onto me.

"You look like you're heading to war, counselor," he murmurs, his eyes lazily dragging down my legs.

"Just heading to work," I snap, looking straight ahead. "Some of us have legitimate daytime jobs. We don't all entertain guests in our pajamas."

A deep, rumbling chuckle vibrates in his chest. He crowds me slightly into the corner. "You're glaring at my door, counselor. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous." The worst part? He’s absolutely right.

🖋️ "I'd say you were jealous..." Oh, he knows exactly what he's doing to her! 🥵 Is Dante playing games, or is he just as obsessed? Let us know your theories! 👇 Hit ❤️ to claim Dante as your new book boyfriend, and share to spread the spice! 🍷🔥