Page 43 of Dangerous Seduction

I stood and hugged Val like it might be the last time. “Keep your ear to the ground for any Jason whispers, will ya?” I said, not quite ready to admit that our next chat could be ages away, potentially lost in the abyss of months.

The bright sunlight assaulted my eyes as I burst out of the diner. I fetched my sunglasses and scanned the street, my gaze darting from car to car, searching for any sign of the black Escalade that had set my nerves on edge.

Luckily, the street was clear, the sidewalks bustling with the usual midday crowd: no mysterious vehicles, no shadowy figures lurking in doorways. I paused momentarily, trying to calm the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I drove back to the apartment, but instead of taking my usual route, I drove through side streets and alleys, doubling back and changing course at random intervals. It was a habit I had picked up in my early days with the DEA, a way to shake any potential tails and ensure I wasn’t being followed.

After reaching my building, I took the stairs two at a time, my keys already in hand as I approached my door. A glance confirmed that the lock was undisturbed, the tiny piece of tape I had placed as a makeshift seal still intact.

I slipped inside, locking the door behind me and leaning against it heavily. My apartment was just as I had left it, with every item in its place and no sign of intrusion or disturbance. But as I scanned the familiar space, I couldn’t shake the unease that had settled deep in my bones.

I collapsed onto the couch, my head falling into my hands. What was wrong with me? Why was I seeing threats around every corner, jumping at shadows like a paranoid conspiracy theorist? I had always prided myself on my level-headedness and ability to keep calm under pressure. But now, it felt like that facade was crumbling, the cracks in my armor widening with every passing day.

A nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered that this job was wearing me down and that the constant vigilance and deception were taking their toll. I had been undercover for weeks now, living and breathing the persona of Eva Morales. But with each passing day, the lines between Natalia and Eva blurred a little more, until I wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.

And then there was Dante, who had started as just another target, another steppingstone on the path to bringing down the cartel. But somewhere along the way, he had become something more—a temptation.

TWENTY

DANTE

My mind was a whirlwind of tension and anger. The name “Natalia” tasted like ash in my mouth, a stark reminder of the betrayal that had festered inside me since I discovered her real identity. Eva—or rather, Natalia Ramirez—had played me for a fool, and tonight, I intended to turn the tables.

I checked my reflection in the mirror, adjusting my tie for the umpteenth time. The man staring back at me was a portrait of calm composure, but beneath the surface, I was a mess of conflicting emotions. I was about to engage in a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, and I was determined to come out on top—or at least not make a complete ass of myself.

The drive to the restaurant was a blur, my thoughts consumed by the woman who had infiltrated my life under false pretenses. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here I was, the son of a notorious cartel leader, lamenting a lack of honesty in my personal life. If my father could see me now, he’d probably laugh himself into an early grave.

As I stepped out of my car and handed the keys to the valet, I spotted Eva—no, Natalia—waiting for me at the restaurant entrance. She looked stunning, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves, her body hugged by a sleek red dress that left little to the imagination. For a moment, I allowed myself to appreciate her beauty, to remember the passion that flared between us. Then I reminded myself of her deception, and I plastered on my best “I’m-totally-not-onto-you” smile.

“Eva,” I greeted her, my voice a mix of charm and feigned nonchalance. “I see you’ve dressed for the occasion. I hope you’re not expecting me to behave myself tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “Behave? I didn’t think that word was in your vocabulary, Dante.”

I chuckled, playing along. “Oh, it’s in there hiding. Right next to ‘boring’ and ‘early night.’ Two other concepts I’m not familiar with.”

“Is that so?” she replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I offered her my arm, feeling the warmth of her body as she pressed against me. “You know, that dress has me wondering what secrets you’re hiding underneath. Any sexy lingerie I should know about?”

Eva laughed, a sound that was both musical and dangerous. “A girl’s got to have some mysteries, Dante. You’ll just have to use your imagination.”

“Trust me, it’s working overtime,” I quipped, guiding her towards the restaurant entrance. “Shall we go inside? I’m dying to see if the food here lives up to the hype. And who knows? Maybe I’ll get some answers about that lingerie situation over dessert.”

We entered the restaurant, a trendy new spot on Ocean Drive that my sister had been so eager to try. The hostess led us to our table, where my Sofia and her pompous boyfriend, Allen, were already seated. The sight of Allen, with his smug grin and overly styled hair, was like a splinter under my fingernail, irritating and impossible to ignore.

“Ah, the man of the hour!” Allen exclaimed, raising his glass in a mock salute. “Good to see you, Dante.”

I forced a nod, and my jaw clenched tight. “Allen,” I grunted, taking the seat next to Natalia. I could feel her gaze on me, assessing, maybe questioning, but I kept my attention focused on the menu in front of me, deliberately avoiding her eyes.

After we ordered food, Allen’s behavior grew increasingly intolerable. He dominated the conversation, regaling us with tales of his financial prowess and material wealth, all while making lewd remarks and inappropriate gestures towards Sofia. My sister laughed, oblivious to her boyfriend’s bad manners, and I felt a surge of protective anger on her behalf.

Ever the strategist, Natalia attempted to steer the conversation toward safer waters. Still, Allen was like a dog with a bone, unable or unwilling to recognize the discomfort he was causing. Each suggestive comment, each unwanted touch, stoked the flames of my fury, and I found myself gripping my wine glass so tightly I feared it might shatter in my hand.

When Allen’s attention shifted to Natalia, making a thinly veiled pass at her right in front of me, that was the last straw. I felt a red haze descend over my vision, my instincts screaming at me to defend what was mine—or at least, what he thought was mine.

“That’s enough,” I said. I fixed Allen with a hard stare, my hand curling into a fist beneath the table. “Show some respect.”

Allen blinked at me, his brow furrowing in confusion—or perhaps it was feigned ignorance. “What’s the matter, Dante?” he asked, the smirk still playing on his lips. “Can’t take a little joke?”

---