Page 11 of Merciless Billionaire's Savage Desire

At that moment, Anya’s phone buzzed, breaking the silence. Dante lifted his head, brows raised as she answered the call.

“Anya?” Griffin’s warm voice came through. “When are you and Dante coming home? Dinner’s ready. I’ll have the table set if you’re hungry already.”

“I was just about to leave, Grandpa,” she said nervously, biting her bottom lip. “But Mr. Kingsley seems like he’s about to head out and meet his friends.” She glanced at Dante, who was clearly listening. Then she lowered the phone and stepped closer to him, allowing Griffin’s voice to carry.

“Don’t come home,” Griffin said immediately. “Go with Dante. There are dangerous girls at these bars. I’m afraid someone might try something—spike his drink or worse. It’s happened before.”

Dante frowned, tilting his head, confusion flashing in his eyes.

“Okay, Grandpa,” Anya murmured, hanging up the call.

When she lifted her gaze, Dante was staring at her, his dark eyes locked on hers so intensely she flinched in surprise.

“I’m not taking you with me,” he said firmly. “Go home.”

Anya slipped her phone into her bag, standing her ground. “No. Grandpa asked me to keep an eye on you,” she said, eyes burning with determination. “So youhaveto take me with you. If something happens, I’ll handle it.”

She crossed her arms, chin lifting in stubborn defiance.

“I don’t care about you,” she added quickly, catching the subtle twitch in his jaw. “I care about Grandpa. He’s worried. I don’t want him to worry.”

Dante dragged a hand over his face and exhaled. A dull throb pressed against his temples, and he rubbed his forehead with two fingers before looking back at her.

She was still standing there—staring at him with those wide, unblinking eyes. No hesitation. No trace of a smile to suggest she was joking.

***

Anya stepped into the Blue Orchid Bar beside Dante, and her lips parted in awe. The place was enormous—elegant and dazzling with an open roof that revealed the night sky above. Stars shimmered overhead while the party thrived below. Fora bar, it was more stunning and extravagant than anything she had imagined.

Dante walked swiftly through the crowd but didn’t stop at the bar. Instead, he moved past it and headed for the staircase leading to the VIP area above.

Anya followed close behind as he made his way to a central table in the elevated lounge that overlooked the entire club.

A few men were already seated—breathtakingly handsome, like gods who had stepped straight out of a fantasy. As soon as they saw Dante, they greeted him with grins and nods.

And those grins and nods? They nearly stopped Anya’s heart, hitting her with mini heart attacks with every step she took toward them.

‘What is this? Heaven?’ she trembled.

Dante took a seat on the plush leather couch. Anya sat beside him, her posture calm but her gaze curious as she observed the others.

The arrangement had three couches around the table, enough to seat a dozen comfortably.

Triston, one of Dante’s longtime friends, looked between them with a wide grin. “So... you’re into younger women?” he teased. “Isn’t she a bit too young to be my sister-in-law already?”

Chuckles echoed around the table.

Two more men sat at the table. One was Raiden—cool and composed, dressed in a crisp shirt, clearly a man of business like Dante. The other was Adrian, relaxed and slightly tipsy, nursing a drink. He owned a massive luxury cars empire. Triston, in contrast, was a well-known model—loud, playful, and flirtatious.

Dante reached for one of the many glasses chilled in the center of the table and took a sip. “She’s not my wife,” Dante said flatly, clearly annoyed. “She’s just—”

“Just a friend?” Raiden interrupted.

“No,” Anya said before Dante could even finish his sentence. “I’m not his friend. I’m just an employee.”

Dante turned to her, his gaze sharp. “What?”

The table fell silent.

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