Page 24 of Shadows of Steel
Elena:And how, exactly, did you get her new number?
Sofia:I have my ways. Let’s just say I don’t disclose my sources. And no, before you even ask, she didn’t give it to me herself. ;)
Elena:Ever considered that perhaps she simply doesn’t want to talk to you?
Sofia:…no.
Sofia:I just spoke with Nonno. Harlow, what on earth is going on? You’re engaged? Call me at once. We even received an invitation to your wedding, care to explain?
Elena:Engaged? That’s... unfortunate.
Harlow:Trust me, my reaction was no different. Sorry, I’ve had a lot to deal with and simply needed time. We’ll speak soon, I promise. Everything is fine, there’s no need for concern. I love you both.
Sofia:Oh, but I do worry. Incidentally, Nonno personally instructed me to bring your wedding dress, so I will. Five of them, at the very least. You need options.
Despite everything, I smile.
Too soon, we arrive at the restaurant. My bodyguards scan the area, their eyes sweeping over the surroundings before one of them opens the door for me. I step out, smoothing my dress as I lift my chin, my expression impassive.
Michael and Grandpa are waiting. I stride toward them, my heels clicking, poised to face whatever the night has in store.
“You look stunning, piccola.” Nonno remarks, his tone filled with quiet approval.
“Thank you. You clean up well yourself.”
He glances toward the building, his countenance impossible to decipher, shadowed by something I can’t quite name. Michael’s voice cuts through the silence, his gaze locking onto mine, his tone even and composed. “There’s been a change of plans. Prepare yourself. And remember, never betray weakness.”
I frown, uncertain about what has happened since we last spoke. But there’s no time to question him now. It’s alreadyintolerable enough that I must bind my life to a man I barely know.
“Shall we?” Michael asks, extending a hand.
I nod, slipping my arm through his.
As we step inside, we are met by a woman who flushes deeply at the sight of Michael, her gaze brimming with adoration. He, however, remains indifferent, his focus fixed straight ahead, assessing, taking note of every movement. Men from all three families are positioned strategically, soldati standing guard, ready to strike at the first sign of trouble.
I greet Giovanni and my brothers.
The word still feels as foreign as ever.
I glance around the room, my gaze sweeping over the faces of men who hold more power than most can comprehend. Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, my eyes find Dante’s.
He’s smirking.
Like he knows a secret I’m not entitled to.
His gaze drags over me, following the contours of my body, the way the dress clings to every curve. I see it in his eyes, how he envisions peeling away each layer, cataloguing every detail, every inch of exposed skin. I narrow my eyes, pretending this tiny interaction doesn’t send a rush of heat through me, or make my pulse hammering against my ribs. Because after all, he’s my future father-in-law.
Leonardo may not be his by blood, but he was raised as if he were. Orphaned at a young age, the boy became his responsibility, taken in by a man still mourning his own brother. Yet even through his own grief, he stepped up, shaping his nephew into a sharp, ruthless force, a reflection of himself. I shake my head, brushing away the thoughts. My attention drifts elsewhere, my thoughts pulling me under until a shift in the air snaps me back. Suddenly, Dante stands right in front of me, I hadn't even noticed him move.
His presence is overwhelming, tall, imposing, radiating something dark and powerful. And his scent… it’s intoxicating. A blend of smoked leather and rich, smouldering tobacco, threaded with tonka bean and something deeper, that clings to him like sin and silk. It’s utterly masculine, utterly him.
Warmth gathers deep in my stomach.
I don’t understand why.
I refuse to.
He greets my grandfather and cousin first, offering a handshake. Then, he steps closer, closing the space between us until his warmth seeps into my skin, wrapping around me like something tangible.
