Page 39 of Dario DeLuca

"My family was threatened," I confide, the weight of secrets pressing against my chest. "He's protecting me…but we don’t know from whom. My dad struck a deal, sealing my fate with Dario to ensure my safety." The simplicity of the arrangement does nothing to ease the complexity of my emotions. “Besides,” I pause. It’s a hesitation that speaks volumes more than a simple nod could. "No evidence points that way.”

“Ensuring your safety by offering the man rumored to be a major player in Chicago’s underground syndicate your hand in marriage? That doesn’t sound like my godfather. I asked my dad if he knew anything, and he said nothing. Just don’t believe everything you hear.”

“Thisarrangementis guaranteeing I’ll be safe and not a target for anyone out to hurt my father due to political reasons. Just never thought a mayor of any city was so highly regarded.”

“Me either. But I guess in high-profile cities…” Gabby stops mid-speech when we notice people with power tools, boxes, and lumber enter the house. They parade through the house, curiosity morphing into suspicion.

“What are they doing?” Gabby asks.

“Whatever Dario tells them.” The words are becoming second nature to my tongue with no effort to stop them.

In the periphery, Dario commands attention. He's deep in conversation with men who wear loyalty like a second skin. His head turns, eyes locking onto mine from across the distance, and something unspoken yet electric charges the space between us. His searing glance holds a brand of lustful intent that scorches through every defense I have erected.

Gabby catches the silent exchange, her eyebrows lifting. There's no hiding from that piercing look, no denying the raw energy dancing like live wires wherever our paths cross.

“Uh, what the fuck is this?” She waves her finger between Dario and me for emphasis.

“Nothing,” I lament.

“Uh, bull shit. That doesn’t look likenothing. Try again.”

I remain quiet. The secrets want to pour out, but I stay silent.

“Oh my god. You didn’t.” Gabby exclaims. Her giddiness is impossible to contain.

"I'm supposed to hate him, right?" The words taste like betrayal, confusion lacing every syllable.

“Suppose to. But, I mean, if he looks like that, I get it.” She glances at Rafael, and they share a look I will not even begin to try to unravel.

The sun dips lower, casting long shadows that stretch across the manicured lawn. A breeze flutters the pages of a discarded magazine by the poolside, the sound a quiet reminder of the world beyond these walls.

“I guess it’s time for you to leave. That long drive must be grueling.”

“Yeah, I'll see you at the influencer event in just a few days.”

“I can hardly contain my excitement.” Our hug is tense, emotions simmering just below the surface.

She struts away, and Rafael holds open the door for her, his chivalrous gestures painting a smug grin on her face.

I take a deep breath and push it out with force before returning to my awaiting sanctuary, no longer calling it my prison cell.

As I approach my room, the scent of freshly cut wood invades my nostrils. Sawdust clings to the polished marble floors like tiny breadcrumbs, leading me to discovery.

As I open the door, the heavy aroma of varnished wood and aged leather envelopes me. My eyes are drawn to the towering bookshelf, its rows of spines glistening in the dim light, each one a gateway to hidden knowledge and secrets.

But my moment of awe is shattered as Dario appears in the doorway, his arms crossed in a cocky pose. A smirk dances on his lips, hinting at some inside joke I am not privy to.

"What the fuck is this?" I demand, my voice laced with suspicion.

"Something I thought you'd appreciate," he replies casually as if he expects a warmer response.

"Is this your idea of making up for spying on me and being an asshole?" I seethe, my hands clenched into fists.

Dario's expression turns serious as he steps closer, invading my personal space.

"I was trying to do something decent," he says, his voice low and intense.

But even as anger surges through me, I can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about what he has brought me.

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