Then she steps into the room. For a moment, I forget there is air around me.
Liliana steps into the room, her posture straight, shoulders drawn back, every line of her composed. But I see the nerves she tries to hide—the slight way her hands brush over the fabric of her dress as she moves, as if grounding herself. The dress is black, fitted at the waist, the skirt moving fluidly as she walks. The neckline is modest, but the way it frames her collarbones pulls my eyes without effort. Her hair falls in loose waves over her shoulders, catching the light in a way that draws every part of me to stillness. I was right to choose this dress for her. It is elegance in its purest form.
Tomasso looks at her, then at me, and the smirk that curves his mouth is deliberate. He doesn’t even try to hide it. “You lucky bastard” he whispers for my ears only.
I take a step toward her, my gaze holding nothing back. “You look…” My voice comes out low, steadier than I feel. “…perfect.” The word settles heavier than I mean it to, but I don’t care.
Her eyes lift to mine for only a moment before they drift away, color rising faintly in her cheeks. Her fingers twitch subtly at her sides, the smallest motion, as though she wants to sign something but decides against it.
That restraint does something to me.
I close the distance in two steps, taking her hand in mine. Her fingers are cool at first, then warmer as they fit against my palm. “You’ll stay close to me tonight,” I tell her quietly, my voice firm enough that she understands it’s more than a request.
She nods, her chin dipping once, composed, even though I can feel the slight tremor in her touch.
Tomasso clears his throat. “Car’s ready,” he says, his tone threaded with something I know is aimed at me more than at her.
I glance at him briefly, then turn back to her. I don’t let go of her hand.
Her lashes lift when I step closer, the air between us shrinking to nothing. My other hand finds her jaw, my thumb brushing the soft curve of her cheek. For a heartbeat, she goes still. Then I lower my mouth to hers.
The kiss is not quick. It is not polite. My lips move over hers slowly at first, coaxing rather than taking. Her breath hitches, the faintest sound breaking against my mouth. I press deeper, my hand sliding to the back of her neck, holding her there, her hair soft beneath my fingers.
She leans into me, just enough to close the space between us completely. Her lips part under mine, and God help me, they're willing. I take the opening, deepening the kiss until I feel her fingers press lightly into my chest. The small sound she makesis quiet, almost lost, but it drives me to linger, to taste every moment of this before I pull away.
When I finally lift my head, her eyes are still closed for a breath before they open. There is a flush across her cheeks now, a softness in her expression that wasn’t there moments ago. Her chest rises faintly with her breath, controlled but not entirely steady.
I watch her for a long moment, my thumb brushing her jaw one last time before I let her go.
Tomasso’s voice cuts in, dry and unhurried. “If you two are done, we really should leave. Though, Liliana…” His smirk sharpens faintly as he glances at her. “You wear the dress better than I imagined. Perfect choice, boss. She might be the most dangerous weapon in the room tonight.”
Liliana’s gaze drops, her blush deepening. My hand tightens gently around hers, the faintest thread of satisfaction curling through me.
Without looking at Tomasso, I answer, my tone deliberate. “She’s always the most dangerous thing in any room I walk into.”
Her eyes lift to mine at that, a flicker of something passing between us, quiet but strong enough to settle in my chest.
Tomasso shakes his head, still smiling as he turns toward the door. “Car’s ready,” he says again, and this time, we follow.
I keep her hand in mine as we step out into the evening air. The temperature has dropped slightly, the coolness brushing over us as the low hum of the engine from the waiting car fills the quiet. I open the door, steadying her as she slips inside, then follow her in. The leather seats are cool, the tinted glass shutting out the city’s noise as the driver pulls away.
The city slides by in ribbons of gold and shadow, streetlights casting their brief glow across her face. She sits close enough that I can feel her warmth, her posture straight, her gaze turned toward the glass. But every few seconds, her fingers brush lightly against her wrist, that familiar nervous motion she does without realizing.
I catch it out of the corner of my eye, my mouth curving faintly. “Careful,” I murmur, my voice low enough for just her. “If you keep that up, I might have to kiss you. And maybe if I do, your nerves won’t be so jittery.”
Her head turns toward me at once, her eyes widening slightly before a smile blooms across her face, bright and unguarded. It pulls something deep in my chest, sharp enough to feel dangerous.
Before I can add anything, she leans in, her lips brushing my cheek in a light kiss. The simple contact sends heat through me faster than it should.
I still for a moment, the faintest growl lodged in my throat. My jaw tightens, the thought rising unbidden: tell the driver to stop, turn back home, and handle this properly. Thoroughly. Theimage is vivid, almost enough to tip me into it, but I force myself to stay still.
I keep my gaze forward, though my hand tightens slightly over hers. “You’re going to make me regret leaving the house tonight,” I tell her, my tone a quiet promise she can’t mistake.
Her smile lingers, her eyes glinting faintly as she settles back in her seat, still close enough that I can feel her against me.
The rest of the drive is quiet, the city’s pulse matching the heat in my blood. When we pull into the private entrance of the club, the lights are already spilling across the pavement, bright enough to catch the sharp lines of the building. The low thrum of music vibrates faintly through the walls, mixing with the muted sound of voices within.
Tomasso steps out first, his eyes scanning the area with practiced precision before he opens our door. I step out, turning back to offer my hand to Liliana. She takes it, her fingers light but steady as I guide her out.
