Page 12 of Merciless Billionaire's Savage Desire

Everyone turned to look at her in disbelief. Even Dante’s eyes narrowed, his brows knitting in surprise, clearly not expecting her to cut ties so coldly. She didn’t even try to take advantage of the situation. She just… outright rejected any association with him beyond work?

Completely oblivious to the stunned silence, Anya kept her eyes glued to the colorful drinks in front of her. She picked up a sparkly blue one and took a sip, her eyes lighting up in wonder. “I just came along to have some fancy drinks, that’s all,” she added casually, already going for her second glass.

“She’s bold,” Raiden commented, amused.

Adrian chuckled and leaned back. “She doesn’t look scared of you at all, Dante.”

“She’s drunk,” Dante said flatly, sipping his drink as the others howled with laughter.

Raiden smirked. “So when she’s sober, she’s scared?”

Dante ignored the comment and took a long sip of his drink, while the others smirked.

The men exchanged glances. Triston leaned back with a wide grin, lifting his glass toward her. “To our brave guest.”

Anya grinned back and clinked her glass with his. “Cheers!”

The mood at the table lightened again, laughter and conversation picking up as the men started talking amongst themselves. Anya, meanwhile, ignored all of them and focused on her new goal—trying every sparkling drink on the table. She stayed focused on sampling every glittering drink she could find, trying to guess their flavors like it was some sort of game. She didn’t even notice when she had downed five glasses.

By the sixth, her vision was starting to blur.

Dante’s sharp gaze followed her hand as it reached for yet another glass. He grabbed it before she could take it.

“Anya,” he said sharply, his jaw tightening. “I told you not to come. And now look at you. How many drinks have you had already?”

Anya glared up at him with drunken defiance. “Don’t be so rude to me! Is that how you talk to the one who came here just to save you from pervert ladies?”

Dante clenched his jaw, placing the glass back down with a thud.

Triston was starting to shake with laughter, “Man, even your employees go into hiding for four days when you give them that glare. Look at her.”

Triston snorted. “She came with you to save you from ‘pervert ladies’?”

“Shut it!”

A few sips later, her eyes glazed over and her tongue loosened. She raised her glass with a lopsided grin. “Mr. Kingsley is my savior,” she declared. “If he hadn’t taken me in last night and let me sleep in his bed, I’d be homeless!”

Every man at the table froze and turned to Dante.

“You’re living with him?” Raiden sat up straighter, the rest of the men looking intrigued. Dante’s glare practically screamed ‘stay out of this!’.

“You’ve had enough,” Dante said, pushing gently on her head to make her sit.

But she swatted his hand away with a scowl and launched into a full explanation about how her mom kicked her out and Dante let her stay. “Ex-mom kicked me out. So I ended up at Dante’s house. He let me sleep in his house. He’s so kind.”

The men listened, clearly entertained.

Then, suddenly, she turned toward Dante, placed one knee on the couch, grabbed his collar, and leaned close—her drunken eyes locked onto his.

“He is my savior,” she said again, louder this time. “If he hadn’t taken me into his bedroom, I’d be on the streets.”

“Into hisbedroom?” Triston repeated, eyes wide.

Dante’s jaw ticked. He snatched a fry and shoved it into her mouth. “Anya, shut up and sit down.”

She chewed happily, then leaned her forehead against his. “You’re so generous,” she whispered loudly. “You even feed me now. You’re the kindest man alive. So handsome. Such a deep voice. You even gave me money.”

Everyone around the table gawked.

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