Page 80 of Fire and Silk
By the time I burst out into the side alley, my lungs are tight again, but this time it’s from adrenaline, not panic.
I rush out onto the footpath and flag the first yellow cab I see.
It slows. The driver eyes me in the oversized clothes, one brow already raised.
I slide into the back seat, yanking the door shut behind me. “Take me to the Dante family estate. Now.”
The driver turns fully in his seat, blinking. “You serious?”
I nod, breathless. “Yes.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Girl, you nuts?”
I don’t answer. I just stare ahead, hand pressed flat to the folded paper inside my shirt.
“I’ll pay you anything,” I say to the driver.
The man—mid-forties, tan skin, with silver curling at his temples—studies me through the rearview mirror. His eyes drift over the oversized hoodie swallowing my frame, the tear still clinging to the corner of my lashes, the paper crumpled in my fist.
He exhales, low and slow.
“You’re either going to your death,” he mutters, shifting the gear into drive, “or you’re someone I shouldn’t mess with.”
Then he nods to the seat beside me. “Get in. Buckle up.”
I do.
We drive.
Melbourne unfolds in streaks. The red-light flickers against the taxi roof, city noise fading behind us. The buildings blur. I press my forehead to the window and feel my heart crash against my chest.
Mico’s ring still burns in memory. The way it felt on my skin. The pressure of it—like a seal, a promise, a future carved out before I’d even said yes. And yet, the second it slipped onto my finger, I knew.
I didn’t want it.
I didn’t wanthim.
Not like this. Not as the safe option. Not if it meant I’d always be the girl someone had to rescue. Someone who stayed small.
I wanted to besomething.
I wanted to be more.
And I wanted the man who said he could satisfy me. The one who looked at me like I was alreadydangerous.
The cab rolls to a stop just before the iron gates.
We both look at the towering mansion beyond it.
The driver whistles. “You sure?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Yes.”
He honks twice.
The gates groan open.
I reach into my pocket, fumbling for cash, but before I can speak, he waves me off.
