Page 27 of Freed
“You… what?”
“You heard me.” His voice is even, but his eyes are not. There’s heat there now. Intent. Possession. “Marry me, Juliette.”
The world seems to narrow to the space between us. The chandelier light glitters overhead. Glass clinks somewhere in the distance. Conversations continue around us in low, elegant murmurs, but none of it feels real anymore. Because Dante isn’t joking. And the most dangerous part is that he already sounds like he expects me to say yes.
“You know that will never work,” I say, sinking back into my chair like my legs have forgotten how to hold me.
“It will,” he says, his voice hard with certainty. “There are rules in our world. Old ones. And a married Don does not touch another Don’s wife.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Even if that wife is carrying his child?” I shake my head. “I don’t know, Dante…”
“It doesn’t matter whose blood the child carries. If you take my name, you become untouchable.” He leans back in his chair, jaw tight. “It would be a marriage on paper. Nothing more. God knows I have nothing good to offer you.” His mouth twists like he hates the taste of the truth. “You would live your life. I’d live mine.”
“And the baby?”
His gaze locks onto mine, unflinching. “The baby would have my last name. My protection. My empire behind them.” His voice drops lower. “And in this world, that means everything.”
“And what are you going to do when Lorenzo finds out?”
Dante’s gaze shifts to the window, lingering there for a beat before returning to me. “He likely already knows.”
My stomach tightens. I glance the same way and spot two men standing outside, one with a phone pressed to his ear, his posture too still. Dread curls through me.
Dante is right.
Lorenzo knows exactly where I am now.
I turn back to Dante, my heart pounding hard enough to make my voice feel steadier than I have any right to be. I nod once.
“I want a small wedding,” I say, “but a very big engagement ring.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “That can be arranged. Do you have a date in mind?”
“The sooner, the better.”
He studies me for a moment. “A month?”
A month.
The word settles over me strangely—too far away and far too close all at once. Long enough for everything to change. Barely enough time to breathe.
“A month is perfect.”
“Excellent.” He lifts his wine glass toward me, dark eyes holding mine. “To new empires.”
I raise my water in return. “To creating your own destiny.”
Our glasses meet with a soft, delicate clink, and we both drink. But even as the cool water slips down my throat, I know somewhere Lorenzo is learning where I am. And when he finds out I’m marrying another man, he is not going to be happy.
We finish the meal with an ease that feels strange in hindsight. Considering everything waiting for us outside that restaurant, I should have been too tense to swallow a bite.
But I wasn’t.
Maybe that’s the strangest part of all. Because somewhere along the way, Dante stopped feeling like a threat and started feeling like something far more dangerous. A friend.
The thought lingers as we settle into the back of the car, the city lights sliding over the windows in blurred ribbons of gold. I turn in my seat to face him.
“I don’t know much about you.”
