Page 63 of Made for Sinners

Dante was already at the front door, unlocking it with a key instead of a code. That small detail made my stomach twist, though I wasn’t sure why.

I followed him inside.

The interior was just as stunning as the exterior—high ceilings, open spaces, a seamless blend of modern design andwarmth. The living room stretched out before me, a wall of glass offering an unobstructed view of the water beyond.

It was beautiful.

He studied me for a moment, then turned, walking further into the house. "Come on."

I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to stay put, to demand answers before following him any deeper into whatever game he was playing. But curiosity—or maybe something worse—won out.

I followed.

Dante led me through the open living space, past the sleek kitchen with its marble countertops and state-of-the-art appliances, past the dining area that looked like it had never been touched. The house was fully furnished, but it didn’t feel lived in. It felt like a model home, waiting for someone to claim it.

We stopped in front of a massive set of glass doors that led to the backyard. Beyond them, a terrace stretched out toward a private pool, the water shimmering under the afternoon sun. Beyond that, a stretch of green led down to a small, secluded lake.

Dante turned to me, his expression unreadable. "How do you picture your future?"

I frowned. "What?"

"Your future," he repeated, his voice quieter this time. "Where do you see yourself? What kind of life do you want?"

I swallowed, caught off guard by the question. "I don’t—" I shook my head. "Why are you asking me this?"

Dante leaned against the glass railing, watching me. "Because I need to know."

I folded my arms, my nails digging into my skin. "Why? So you can decide it for me?"

His jaw tightened. "No."

I let out a breath, turning away from him, staring out at the water. "I don’t know," I admitted. "I never really thought about it."

"Try."

I hesitated, then sighed. "I guess… I always imagined something small. A place that was mine. Quiet. Safe."

Dante was silent for a long moment. "And do you think you’ll ever have that?"

I turned to him, my chest tightening. "Not with you."

His expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. Guilt? Shame?

He pushed off the railing, closing the distance between us in slow, deliberate steps. "You think I can’t give you that?"

I swallowed hard. "I think you don’t know how."

Dante reached out, his fingers brushing against my jaw, tilting my face up to his. "I can give you anything, Emilia."

I searched his face, my pulse hammering. "Then why does it feel like I have nothing?"

His grip tightened slightly, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheek. "Because you keep fighting me."

I exhaled shakily, my body betraying me as I leaned into his touch. "Maybe I don’t want to stop fighting."

His smirk was slow, dangerous. "Good."

I turned to Dante, crossing my arms. “What is this?” I repeated, my voice sharper this time.

---