Page 40 of Made for Saints

Before I could respond, the door to the office opened, and the familiar sound of the UPS delivery driver’s voice filled the room.

“Morning, Miss Ricci,” he said, his tone cheerful as he walked in with a stack of packages.

I looked up, grateful for the distraction getting out of mychair and hurrying to the front to grab the mail. “Morning, Eric. Busy day?”

“Always,” he said with a grin, setting the packages down on the counter. “But seeing you makes it worth it.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re such a flatterer. Also you know to just call me Emilia.”

“Only for you, Emilia” he said, winking as he handed me the clipboard to sign.

The exchange was harmless, lighthearted banter that broke up the monotony of the day. But as I handed the clipboard back to Eric, I heard it—the deliberate clearing of a throat.

My stomach dropped.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The air in the room shifted, growing heavier, more charged. Eric’s easy smile faltered, his gaze darting over my shoulder before quickly returning to me.

“Well, I’d better get going,” he said, his voice a little too bright. “Lots of packages to deliver.”

“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile as he turned and practically bolted from the room.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with Dante.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding as I met his gaze. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something I couldn’t quite name—something dark and dangerous that made my pulse race.

“Do you always flirt with the delivery guy on company time?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

I bristled, crossing my arms over my chest. “It’s called being polite, Dante. Not that you’d know anything about that.”

His lips curved into a faint smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Polite? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“What’s your problem?” I demanded, my frustration bubbling over. “Eric is just a nice guy doing his job. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Dante took a deliberate step closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. The air between us felt charged, the kind of tension that made it impossible to breathe evenly, let alone think clearly. His smirk was gone now, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous, and it made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t want to name.

“My problem,” he said, his voice low and measured, “is that you seem to think you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, without any regard for the consequences.”

II stepped closer to him, unwilling to let him loom over me any longer. “Consequences?” I snapped, the word sharp and cutting. “For what? Making small talk with the UPS guy? You’re unbelievable.”

His dark eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he might actually laugh. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward, his face so close to mine that I could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath a warm whisper against my cheek.

“Do you think I didn’t notice?” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. “The way you smiled at him, the way you tilted your head just so. You’re walking a fine line, Emilia. And you don’t even see how far the fall is.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “You’re insane,” I said, though the words came out weaker than I’d intended. “Eric is just a delivery driver. He’s harmless.”

Dante’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile—more like a predator baring its teeth. “Harmless?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “Is that what you tell yourself? That men like him don’t notice the way you look at them? The way you...invite their attention?”

Anger flared in my chest, though it was hard to tell if it was directed at him or at myself for the flicker of uncertainty his words sparked. “I’m notinvitinganything,” I snapped, my voice rising. “And even if I were, it’s none of your business.”

“Everything about you is my business,” he said, his voice dangerously soft, like a blade sliding between ribs. His dark eyes bore into mine, unrelenting. “A lesser man would kill thatdelivery driver just for looking at you the way he did.”

I blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift in his tone, the sharpness in his words. “Are you listening to yourself right now?” I shot back, my voice trembling slightly. “You’re being ridiculous.”

His lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. It was a warning. “Am I? You don’t understand the kind of attention you attract, Emilia.” His voice dropped further, low and intimate, making my skin prickle. “You smile at the wrong man, tilt your head just right, and suddenly, he thinks he has a chance. That’s how it starts.”

“And how does it end?” I asked, my throat dry, even as I tilted my chin defiantly.

“With me,” he said simply, his gaze unwavering. “It always ends with me.” His dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch.

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