Page 82 of Made for Sinners

Dante smirked, leaning casually against the back of the couch, his dark eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and mischief. “We have an event to attend.”

I arched a brow, already suspicious. “An event?”

“A charity auction.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands like a child who’d just been told they had homework. “Let me guess. A room full of rich criminals pretending to care about the less fortunate while bidding ridiculous amounts of money on things they don’t need?”

Dante chuckled, his fingers brushing over my ankle as he trailed them down my calf, his touch sending a small rush of warmth through me. “Something like that.”

I sat up, swinging my legs off the couch and planting my feet on the floor. “And what exactly is up for auction? A yacht? A private island? Someone’s soul?”

His smirk widened, his gaze gleaming with something that made my stomach twist. “All of the above, probably.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing my phone again and scrolling back to the boutique. “Wow. I can’t wait to spend all your money. It’s for charity, after all.”

Dante’s smirk deepened, and he knelt slightly, his face level with mine as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Of course. Spend whatever you want. But make sure you pick something delicious to wear. I can’t wait to show you off.”

I glanced at him, narrowing my eyes. “You make it sound like I’m some prize you’re parading around.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening but still unreadable, dark and intense. “You are.”

My stomach twisted again, a confusing mix of anger and something darker—something that felt too much like desire. Iscoffed, shaking my head as I leaned back against the couch. “Unbelievable.”

Dante laughed, standing and walking toward the kitchen. His footsteps were unhurried, confident, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Where’s it being held?” I called after him, trying to shake off the lingering warmth of his words.

“My cousin Rocco’s estate,” he said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and took a long sip, watching me over the rim of the bottle as if he were waiting for my reaction.

I frowned, trying to recall if I’d ever been there. “I don’t think I’ve been to his place.”

“You’ve met him, though,” Dante said, setting the water bottle on the counter. He leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze still fixed on me. “You’ll like his estate. It’s extravagant, over-the-top, and designed to impress.”

“Sounds like your entire family,” I muttered under my breath.

Dante chuckled, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “You’re not wrong.”

I stood, stretching my arms over my head, my silk lounge top riding up slightly as I moved. I caught the flicker of his gaze, the way his eyes lingered for just a second longer than necessary before he looked away.

“Well,” I said, grabbing my phone again, “if we’re going to a ridiculous event, I might as well spend the day buying ridiculous things online.”

Dante smirked, stepping closer to me, his presence filling the space between us. He reached out, his fingers brushing along my jaw before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Enjoy yourself, princess.”

I grinned, tilting my head slightly. “Oh, I will.”

He leaned in, his lips grazing my temple, the brief contact sending a shiver down my spine. His voice was soft, low, and full of intention as he murmured, “Good luck.”

I said nothing, watching as he straightened and walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the hallway.

My stomach twisted again, but this time, it wasn’t irritation. It was something heavier. Something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

I flopped back onto the couch, staring at my phone screen, but the shoes no longer held my attention.

Dante had a way of doing that—of slipping under my skin, making me feel things I didn’t want to feel.

And I hated him for it.

But I hated myself more for letting him.

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