In fact, Vito’s hand on my arm shivered.
Dear God. How insane is he?
We came to a screeching halt just four feet away from him.
My stepfather let go of me, yet Vito kept his grip on my arm.
Meanwhile, Gianni’s gaze took in mynowabsurd ballerina costume and the bright red pointe shoes strapped tightly to my feet.
He must think I’m fucking insane. Well. . .good. . .let him think that. I’ll play crazy to get out of this.
Gianni continued to take me in and didn’t speak. And due to him not saying anything, I was pretty sure that was why everyone else kept their mouths closed too.
His gaze leisurely traced a path from my face, down my neck, and over my collarbone, lingering on each curve and dip of my body. I could feel the heat of his gaze like a warm caress as it traveled downwards, taking in every inch of me.
Goosebumps rose on my skin in response to the intensity of his stare.
And I hated to realize this, but his attention was both unnerving and intoxicating, making me acutely aware of my own physical presence.
He’s the fucking devil. Never forget it.
But, wasn’t the devil in the Bible alluring too?
I had never been particularly religious, but I remembered enough from childhood stories and half-forgotten sermons to recall the descriptions of Lucifer—the fallen angel.
He wasn’t some grotesque, horned creature as many depictions would have people believe.
No, the devil was said to have been beautiful—extraordinarily so. His appearance was designed to captivate, to draw people inwith the promise of something greater, something irresistible, only to lead them into ruin.
And as I looked at Gianni, it was impossible not to draw the same comparison.
Yes. He is the devil. Indeed.
He was a man whose beauty could ensnare even the wariest, whose very presence demanded attention and obedience.
He was the kind of man who could make me forget who he really was beneath that flawless exterior—a monster in disguise.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine and fear twisted inside me, cold and sharp. But there was something else too—something far worse. A wicked pull, a dark fascination I couldn’t explain.
He was a monster, I knew that.
But even monsters could be beautiful.
I just had to remember and never forget that the devil—no matter how alluring—was still the devil.
Gianni lifted his view back to my face.
I blinked.
Why isn’t he saying anything?
His expression was unreadable, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Okay. What happens next?
Gianni raised one eyebrow and his gaze shifted to Vito’s hand on my arm, and that was when I saw it—the briefest flash of something brutally dark and heart-stoppingly dangerous.
A sneer curled the corner of his mouth.
