Chapter 7 - A Dangerous Waltz
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The adrenaline of the powder room ambush lingered for days, binding Dante and Nadia in a tight, protective orbit.
It was near midnight in the penthouse. The city lights glittered far below. Nadia was sitting on the sofa, rubbing her tired feet, when Dante walked into the room. He bypassed the bar and walked to an antique phonograph in the corner, dropping a needle onto a vinyl record.
A slow, haunting Italian waltz filled the room.
“Get up,” Dante commanded softly, turning toward her.
Nadia frowned. “I’m exhausted, Dante.”
“The first dance at a Leone wedding is sacred,” he insisted, walking over and offering his hand. “You need to know the steps perfectly. The entire commission will be watching.”
She took his hand. He pulled her up, his arm wrapping securely around her waist, drawing her flush against his chest.
They began to move across the hardwood floor. The steps were complex, but Dante guided her with a firm, effortless strength. The physical proximity was overwhelming. She could feel the heat radiating from his chest, the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his shirt.
“You handled Gemma beautifully,” Dante murmured, his lips brushing against her temple as they spun.
“I didn't want to hurt her,” Nadia admitted, looking up into his dark eyes. “She’s just a victim of this life, like everyone else.”
“You are not a victim, Nadia,” Dante said, his grip tightening slightly on her waist.
“Aren't I?” she challenged softly. “I’m trapped in a glass tower, pretending to be a queen because a piece of silk fit my waist.”
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Dante stopped dancing. He didn't let her go. He looked down at her, the mask of the ruthless boss slipping to reveal a raw, burning hunger.
“The silk was an excuse,” Dante confessed, his voice a rough whisper. “I have wanted to pull you out of the shadows since the day you started working for me.”
