Page 94 of Merciless Billionaire's Savage Desire

She tried to move sideways, but he caught her shoulders and pushed her gently but firmly back, caging her in.

“Move,” she demanded.

He didn’t.

“Isn’t this the only way left for me to have a fucking conversation with you?” he said, his voice low, breath hot with frustration.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she snapped, eyes flaring. “And if I wasn’t clear before, I’ve made it clear now.”

“You’re just going to ignore me now? Even after running into me?” Dante’s voice was sharp with resentment as he closed the distance between them. His hand shot out, grabbing her arm with a force that made her pulse race. “It’s been over a damn week, Anya. Do you not miss me at all? How can you treat me like a fucking stranger?”

Anya flinched slightly under his grip, but her gaze remained cold as she met his eyes. “Then what are you?” she snapped, voice trembling slightly with restrained emotion, though she made sure he couldn’t see it. “You made it very clear the last time we met that you didn’t want to talk to me. So since that’s the case, start by leaving me alone, Mr. Kingsley.”

The words seemed to snap something in Dante. He took a step forward, towering over her now, his breath ragged and heavy as the anger in him reached its peak.

His patience was gone.

“I love you!” Dante’s voice roared through the room, echoing like a wound torn open. “Don’t you fucking get that? I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you—and I love you now!”

She froze. Her body went stiff, heart racing. But then she looked into his eyes, and her expression turned icy.

“How can you say this to me now?” Her voice was disturbingly calm, but the chill in her tone made every word feel like a knife. “You walked out, Dante. You said you didn’t want to hear anything from me. That you wanted nothing to do with me. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Anya—”

“And you’re engaged, aren’t you?” She cut him off, her expression a mask of indifference. Her eyes narrowed with bitterness as she stepped back slightly, her body turning stiff. “To Ms. Carter? You already have a soon-to-be wife. So stop following me around and focus on getting to know your future bride. Don’t waste your time on me.”

Dante’s heart dropped at her words.

Anya wanted him to walk away. To let go of the idea of being with her—because he didn’t know she was the very girl he was engaged to. He didn’t want to marry Annie Carter anyway, so it wasn’t like he’d ever get to know about her identity as Annie until her family announces it.

But instead, a small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was taunting, almost as if he could see right through her. He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, lowering his head until they were eye-to-eye. His voice softened, a dangerous glint in his gaze.

“You’re jealous?”

Her blood boiled. Anya shoved his hand off her arm roughly and glared at him.

‘He thinks I’m jealous? Would I be jealous of myself?’ she scoffed inwardly.

“Mr. Kingsley, I’m telling you this because you seem to have trouble understanding—I’m no longer your woman. That woman was someone else. Since you chose to walk out of my life, I refuse to be anyone’s mistress. Stop trying to talk to me or showing up in front of me.”

“I don’t have any relationship with that girl,” he said through clenched teeth, frustrated. “What the hell are you even talking about?”

“It doesn’t—”

“You don’t believe me?” he interrupted, a dangerous edge in his voice. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. His fingers dialed without hesitation, his eyes never leaving hers. “Fine. I’ll call her right now. I’ll end it. I’ll reject her on the phone—in front of you. I won’t even wait to meet her. I’ll make it clear right now.”

Her heart stopped. Panic shot through her like an electric shock.

“No—there’s no need for that!” she blurted, her hand instinctively shooting out toward the phone, but it was too late. He was already dialing. The line rang.

In the same moment, Anya’s phone buzzed. Her heart skipped a beat. Dante’s contact name flashed across the screen.

Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes widened in horror. She scrambled to pull her phone out of her bag, quickly hanging up the call. Her hands shook as she put the phone on silent, desperate to keep the secret from slipping out. She glanced at the screen—her battery was at one percent.

The second she ended the call, her phone blacked out completely, shutting off in her hands.

Dante glanced down at his phone, still unaware of the connection. He frowned as the call cut off. “She didn’t pick up,” he muttered. “But I’ll call again.”

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