Page 9 of Auctioned Innocence
I’m not little anymore.
No, she certainly wasn’t.
That dress had made that abundantly clear, clinging to curves that had no business being in my thoughts.
“Dante?” Marco’s voice snaps me back. “You good?”
I straighten, shrugging off the dangerous train of thought.
“Yeah. Just thinking about entry points we need to secure. The terrace is too exposed.”
It’s not entirely a lie.
I had noticed the security weaknesses out there.
Just…after I’d noticed other things.
Like how the moonlight painted silver across her collarbones.
How her lips had parted slightly when I stepped closer.
How every instinct had screamed at me to close the distance, to finally discover if she tastes as sweet as she looks.
“Earth to Dante.” Marco waves a hand in front of my face. “Maybe ease up on the scotch, yeah? We’ve got work to do.”
I nod, grateful again for the distraction of business.
Of threats I can actually fight, unlike the war between loyalty and desire raging inside me.
“Show me the warehouse footage,” I say, locking away thoughts of Sofia behind the mental walls I’ve carefully constructed over the years. “If it was really professionals, they’d have left a signature.”
We spend the next hour analyzing security feeds, marking patterns, building theories.
It’s familiar ground.
Safe ground.
The language of violence and protection I understand far better than the complicated tangle of emotions Sofia stirs in me.
But even as we work, my awareness thinks about Sofia safely tucked away upstairs.
My body attunes to her presence like a compass finding north, without my conscious permission.
My phone buzzes.
A text from one of my men:Movement on the south perimeter. Handled, but heads up.
My entire body tenses, my pulse spiking.
The south side…that’s where Sofia’s window faces.
I type back:Details. Now.
“Problem?” Marco asks, catching my expression.
“Maybe.” I slide my phone over, showing the response:Two men. Armed. Got photos before they rabbited.
Marco swears softly, his face hardening into the expression that makes rival families fear the Renaldi name. “I’ll alert the house security. You?—”
