Chapter 11 - Scars and Silk
|
They returned to the penthouse, leaving the chaotic cleanup to Leo and the soldiers.
Dante stripped off his ruined suit jacket, wincing sharply. A deep, jagged cut ran along his left bicep where a piece of shattered marble had grazed him.
“You’re bleeding,” Nadia said, her voice shaking as the adrenaline crashed.
She guided him to the leather sofa, retrieved the first aid kit from the bathroom, and knelt beside him. She worked in silence, cleaning the wound with antiseptic, her hands trembling slightly as she wrapped the white gauze around his heavily muscled arm.
“You shouldn't have stepped out of that elevator,” Dante scolded her, though his voice was rough with emotion. “You could have been killed.”
“If I hadn't stepped out, they would have flanked you,” Nadia countered softly, tying off the bandage. “I promised to play the part, Dante. A queen protects her king.”
Dante looked down at her. The fierce, terrifying mafia boss completely melted away, leaving a man stripped of all his armor. He reached out, his uninjured hand gently cupping her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.
“I don't care about the crown, Nadia,” he confessed, his dark eyes burning into hers. “I don't care about the commission, or the legend of the dress. If keeping this empire means putting you in the crossfire, I will burn it to the ground.”
May you like
Nadia leaned into his touch, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Dante...”
He didn't let her finish. He leaned down and kissed her. It was a desperate, bruising, all-consuming kiss that tasted like smoke, danger, and absolute devotion. Nadia kissed him back with equal ferocity, her hands tangling in his dark hair, surrendering entirely to the fire that had been building between them since the moment the elevator doors opened in the fitting room.
