Page 100 of Shadows of Steel
I savour the moment, pulling the tray onto my lap, taking a slow sip of the rich coffee. The warmth spreads through me as I grab the remote and press a button.
The TV rises from the floor, sliding smoothly into place at the foot of the bed. I flick through Netflix, eventually settling on a crime thriller as I pick at my breakfast. But even as the show plays, my gaze drifts back to the flowers. I don’t read too much into the gesture. This was only sex, no feelings involved. That’s what I told him. That’s what I keep telling myself. But as the thought forms, I know it’s a lie. As much as I try not to be, I’m already in too deep.
With a quiet exhale, I finish my coffee. I refuse to waste the day in bed. Stepping into the shower, I let the scalding water cascade over me, exactly what I need. I stand beneath the spray longer than I should, my fingers absently tracing over my skin, still sensitive from last night.
By the time I step out, the foggy mirror reflects flushed skin and a lingering, wicked smile I don’t bother wiping away.
I throw on a black sports bra, matching leggings, and sneakers. My hair is pulled into a high ponytail, and after a final glance in the mirror, I head downstairs.
The house is silent. Mattia is still asleep, which isn’t surprising. The kid sleeps like the dead until noon unless dragged out of bed. The staff moves quietly through the halls, and I pass a few of Dante’s men stationed at their usual posts.
I make my way toward the gym, expecting it to be empty, as it usually is.
I’m wrong.
The moment I step inside, the rhythmic sound of flesh hitting pads fills the air, followed by low, sharp commands in Italian. Dante is sparring with Leonardo.
He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of black gym shorts, his body slick with sweat, muscles coiled tight and lethal as he moves.
My pulse skips.
Jesus.
I stop just inside the doorway, watching him, my gaze trailing over the ridges of his abs, the sharp cut of his v-line, the ripple of strength with every strike he lands. He moves like a man who owns the room, the city, the fucking world.
A dark chuckle pulls me from my thoughts. “Enjoying the view?”
I blink, snapping my gaze away from Dante just in time to see Mario smirking down at me, arms crossed.
“Hard not to.” I quip, arching a brow.
Mario chuckles, but before he can reply, Leonardo grunts, hitting the mat with a heavy thud. “Merda!” Leo growls, rolling onto his back, rubbing his jaw. “That wasn’t fair, zio.”
Dante looms over him, unapologetic, completely in control. He grabs a towel, wiping the sweat from his chest. “You allowed yourself to be distracted. That responsibility falls on you.”
“By what?” Leo snaps.
Dante’s gaze flicks to me, knowing. “By my wife.”
Leonardo exhales sharply, pushing himself up. “Not fair, zio.” he grumbles, shaking his head.
Dante barely acknowledges him. Instead, his full attention is now on me. And I feel it everywhere.
Mario nudges Leo as they step away, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. “Try not to let her knock you on your ass, boss.”
Dante doesn’t look away from me. “She’s welcome to try.”
I step forward, lifting my chin. “You know very well that I can take you.”
Dante’s smirk is slow, edged with danger. “Then step into the ring, leonessa. Prove it.”
So I do.
He lets me have the first few strikes, allowing a sharp jab to his ribs before he finally moves.
Fast.
His hands shoot out, aiming for my wrists, but I twist at the last second, slipping free and landing a solid kick to his side. He barely grunts, his expression sharpening with something close to amusement, maybe even interest.
