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"Is this what you think of me?" Felix asked, his voice shaking with hurt. "Just some cheap ass you can buy when you need it?"
Dante looked taken aback by the accusation, his dark eyes narrowing in offense. "No, Felix, that's not what I meant." Regret flashed across his face, but the realization came too late. "Shit, that's a bad look. I just–"
The reality of the situation slammed into Felix. He felt like a fool, like a naive child who'd just discovered Santa Claus wasn't real. The warmth and affection he'd felt moments ago now seemed like nothing more than a cruel joke.
He'd set out to find a sugar daddy.
Well, now he had one.
He'd just tricked himself into thinking that this was something different.
"Get out," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, just... get out."
"Fine," Dante growled, clearly frustrated. He finished dressing and moved toward the door, pausing just before leaving. "You've got it all wrong, kid. But if this is what you want, I'll go."
As Dante finished buttoning his shirt and straightened his jacket, he looked over at Felix, his gaze intense. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Felix could see the unspoken words that Dante wanted to say but couldn't.
Without another word, Dante turned and strode from the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Felix collapsed back on the bed, his hands trembling as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.
The night closed in around him, and Felix was left alone.
Chapter nine
Felix'sbodyachedashe pushed the front door open, his keys jangling in his hand. The weight of another long day as a delivery driver bore down on him like an oppressive shadow. "Luna?" he called out.
The house only answered with silence. Her bedroom light was on, the door closed, with the sound of her current favorite album creeping out from underneath it. That had become a familiar scene by now -- she had to be on her phone again, too busy talking to hear him over her conversation and her music.
"'Hello to you too, Felix,'" he muttered under his breath, dropping his bag by the door. The floor creaked beneath his feet as he made his way to his bedroom. As he glanced at the rumpled sheets on his bed, memories came flooding back, igniting a fire in his chest and a shiver down his spine.
The feel of Dante's powerful arms around him still lingered on his skin, a reminder of the blissful passion they had shared days ago. But that moment of ecstasy had been cruelly shattered.
The crushing realization that he was nothing more than a hooker falling for a john left him feeling pitiful.
He couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity or daydream about a future with Dante. There was no room for such fantasies in his life.
He had to be practical. He couldn't afford fantasies.
With a heavy sigh, Felix turned away from the bed and headed to the kitchen, hoping the mundane task of reheating dinner would chase away thoughts of the dangerous man he'd had in his bed.
As the microwave hummed, Felix leaned against the countertop, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He couldn't help but replay every heated touch, every husky whisper, and every stolen glance from Dante. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, letting his heart become entangled with someone like Dante Navone. But the pull was undeniable, the desire to submit to the raw power and passion Dante exuded.
"Stop it," he scolded himself once more, rubbing his temples as if trying to physically expel the thoughts from his head. He had responsibilities - Luna depended on him, and he couldn't risk losing focus or getting swept up in a dangerous romance. No matter how intoxicating Dante's touch had been, Felix had to remember what was truly important.
Eventually, the scent of garlic and tomatoes filled the air as Felix stirred the reheated dinner. Pasta again — but it was cheap, and cheap would do. Felix barely noticed it, his thoughts still plagued by Dante's touch. He shook his head, trying to clear the lingering memories from his mind.
"Luna!" he called out, raising his voice to be heard even through her door. "Dinner's ready!"
When there was no response, Felix frowned, irritated. Grabbing two plates, he scooped generous portions of pasta onto each, the steam wafting up and carrying with it the promise of a comforting meal.
"Seriously? You're going to make me come get you?" he grumbled under his breath, balancing both plates in one hand as he navigated the short distance to Luna's bedroom. Carefully juggling the plates, Felix nudged the door open with an elbow and a foot, expecting to find his sister lost in her music.
But the room was empty. The bed was unmade, clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor. There was no sign of Luna.
Panic began to coil in Felix's chest, tightening its grip on his heart. "Luna?" he called again, his voice wavering with concern. Setting the plates down on her desk, he pulled out his phone and dialed her number.
The call went straight to voicemail.
"Hey, it's me. What's going on? Where are you? Call me back, alright? And if you're just ignoring me—" Felix paused, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. "Just... call me, okay?"
