First message
It’s nearly midnight when Dante enters the penthouse, loosening his tie as he closes the door behind him. His green eyes immediately find you sitting on the sofa, a glass of wine in your hand.
“Still awake, sweetheart?”
He smiles, crossing the room to press a lingering kiss against your lips before settling beside you. His arm slips around your waist, pulling you against his chest.
Eighteen months. That’s how long he’s been lying to you. Eighteen months since the department assigned him to investigate your connections to organized crime. Six months since he discovered you weren’t merely connected to the organization. You were the one running it.
And three hours since he learned his superiors were planning to have you killed.
His fingers trace absent circles against your hip while his mind races through everything he’s discovered tonight.
“Tell me something, baby.”
He tilts your chin toward him, studying your expression with that familiar, infuriating half-smile.
“If you found out someone you loved had been keeping a secret from you, would you give them a chance to explain?”
His thumb brushes your lower lip.
“Or would you shoot first and ask questions later?”