I kicked off my shoes. Walked barefoot across cool marble. The sea waves crashed beyond the glass. For a few precious minutes, I managed not to think about anything.
"Running out of places to hide."
My heart nearly exited my body. I spun around. Santino stood in the doorway. Of course he did. Because apparently the universe hated me.
Black dress shirt. Dark trousers. Sleeves rolled to his forearms. No mask. No gun. No Devil. Just Santino. Which somehow felt worse. I glared. He looked annoyingly pleased about it.
"Do you enjoy shortening my lifespan?"
"Immensely."
I sighed. Naturally. "Go away."
"No."
I hated him. Deeply. Passionately. Possibly criminally. The bastard had the audacity to smile. Then he pushed away from the doorway and walked into the room. Slowly. Like he had all the time in the world. Like I wasn't contemplating murder.
I backed toward the windows. Pure instinct. Because every time he got close lately, my brain stopped functioning properly. Not ideal. Especially considering the circumstances. The execution still sat between us. Unspoken. Heavy. Present.
Santino stopped a few feet away. Neither of us spoke. The city sparkled behind me, across the water. The chandeliers glowed above us. Somewhere in the room, music crackled to life.
I frowned. Santino looked up. An old speaker sat tucked high in one corner. The sound quality was terrible. The song itself wasn't. Soft. Slow. Melancholy. The kind of music designed specifically to ruin emotional stability.
"Well," I said. "That's creepy."
Santino's mouth twitched. "It used to do that. The speaker."
I blinked. "Randomly?"
"Angelo wired it." Of course he did. The mention of his brother softened something in his expression. Only for a second. Then it disappeared. I looked away first. Because the room felt too intimate. Too quiet. Too dangerous.
"Dance with me."
I stared. I laughed. Actually laughed. A genuine laugh. Because the suggestion was absurd. Absolutely ridiculous. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because you've lost your mind over smaller things,” I insisted.
Santino tilted his head. Studied me. Then smiled. Slowly. Dangerously. "Afraid?"
I wanted to hit him. The smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing. "Nope. Still sane, though."
"Then dance with me."
"No."
His smile widened. I hated that smile. I hated the confidence behind it. Most of all, I hated that he knew me. Because he knew exactly what would happen next.
"Definitely afraid," he repeated.
"Oh, shut up." I stormed across the room. Straight toward him. His smile became victorious. I hated him even more. "One dance."
His hand appeared. Waiting. I stared at it. Then at him. Then at the hand again. This was a mistake. A terrible mistake. An absolutely catastrophic mistake. I put my hand in his anyway.
Warm fingers closed around mine. My pulse betrayed me. Santino pulled me closer. One hand settling against my waist. The other holding mine. My breath caught. Just slightly. Not enough for him to notice. Hopefully.
The music drifted softly through the ballroom. We started moving. Slowly. The room glittered around us. For several moments neither of us spoke. Which somehow felt more dangerous than arguing.
