C113 Close, Yet Distant

Dante paced his study like a caged lion, his every step echoing against the polished floor.

The dim glow of the single desk lamp cast long shadows on the walls, swelling the suffocating weight in his chest.

His jaw clenched tightly as images of Annabelle replayed in his mind.

Her defiant eyes.

Her trembling hands.

The way she’d stood there, stripped of everything but her muleheaded pride.

He growled low in his throat, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.

She was driving him insane.

No matter how hard he tried to focus on the reports in front of him.

The financials, security updates, and even Angelo’s handwritten notes on their latest lead all blurred together in his view.

He had decided to work because he couldn’t sleep knowing she was just right there.

So close, yet so distant.

“Why does she do this to me?” He wondered in a rare admittance of weakness.

By the time the clock struck midnight, Dante couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing his jacket, he stalked out of the mansion.

His driver, half-asleep in the guard’s quarters, barely registered the sound of the engine roaring to life.

Dante didn’t wait for company.

He didn’t want it.

The city streets were eerily quiet, bathed in the flickering glow of streetlights.

The weight of the silence pressed against him, but it did little to quell the storm inside.

He drove aimlessly at first, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

Why had she looked at him like that?

Like he was the monster she’d always feared.

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sharp pain grounding him.

Dante pulled over by the pier, the salty air biting against his skin as he stepped out of the car.

The inky black water churned below, restless and cold, much like his thoughts.

He leaned against the railing, his broad shoulders hunched as he stared out at the endless expanse.

He needed to lose his mind on something else for a moment.

Anything but that damn woman

He knew just what.

********

Angelo rushed out of the house just as the sound of Dante’s car faded in the distance, just as its lights.

One of the guards’ faces was tight with unease as he turned to him to state the obvious.

“Sir, the boss just left. Alone.”

Angelo’s stomach twisted.

Alone?

That wasn’t like Dante.

Not when the stakes were this high.

Not when enemies were circling like vultures, waiting for a single misstep.

Not when Romano was still ticking like a bomb, and he could decide to detonate anytime.

Angelo would have slammed the men against the wall and asked why they didn’t stop him.

But then he knew that would make any difference.

“Where did he go?”

The guard hesitated. “He didn’t say.”

Angelo swore under his breath, running a hand over his face.

Despite his show of control, he had watched Dante unravel bit by bit recently, his controlled exterior cracking in ways Angelo had never seen before.

And that has always happened when it comes to one person.

And he knew exactly who that was.

“Send a team to follow him. Discreetly,” Angelo ordered, his voice low but firm.

He didn’t trust anyone else to keep Dante out of trouble.

Not now.

As the men scrambled to comply, Angelo stood rooted to the spot, his mind racing.

He had always been loyal to Dante, not just as his consigliere, but as his closest friend.

And he had stayed silent when it came to Annabelle, hoping she would be a balm to Dante’s wounds instead of a thorn in his side.

But this?

This recklessness?

It wasn’t just about passion anymore.

It was dangerous.

By the time the men pulled out, Angelo had made up his mind.

He needed to speak to Annabelle.

Angelo waited until morning to approach her.

He knew that despite whatever might be going on between them, Dante would probably scalp him when he learned that Angelo went to meet his woman during the night.

So, he waited until she came downstairs.

The soft glow of the early sun filtered through the large windows as he found her in the library, curled up in a chair with a book in her lap.

She didn’t notice him at first, her brows furrowed in concentration as her fingers idly toyed with the edge of the page.

She didn’t look like she was reading much as her eyes danced to and away from the book.

But she sure was doing a good impression of reading though.

Despite how perfectly still she was seated, she looked fidgety and tired too.

Not that that was his business.

He just needed her to ease up on whatever she was doing to get the boss all tangled up like that.

He cleared his throat, and she looked up, startled.

Her emerald green eyes locked onto his, wary but composed.

“Angelo,” she greeted, setting the book aside. “Is something wrong?”

Angelo crossed the room, his footsteps muffled by the thick rug. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Annabelle’s posture stiffened, her gaze narrowing.

Then she seemed to catch on easily enough.

“If this is about last night, you can save it. I’m not interested in discussing Dante.”

Angelo chuckled dryly, his expression hardening. “Unfortunately for you, Miss Whitaker, you don’t have a choice.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t look away. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“It’s my business when Dante takes off in the middle of the night like a madman because of you,” Angelo shot back, his tone sharper now. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him? To yourself?”

Annabelle flinched, the briefest flicker of guilt crossing her face before she schooled her features. “Dante makes his own choices. If he’s upset, that’s on him.”

Angelo shook his head, his frustration mounting. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Annabelle. Whatever you think this is. Whatever walls you’re building around yourself? He’s already broken through them. You can’t pretend this is just some transaction anymore.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she stood abruptly, crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you want me to say, Mr. Russo? Because I don’t think I need to repeat that this is none of your business.”

“That’s where you are wrong, Miss Whitaker. Anything you do that will make him reckless enough to expose himself to danger is my business.”

She looked like she wanted to snap at him again.

But then she exhaled shakily, her hands tightening around her arms. “I can’t do this.”

Angelo stepped closer, his voice softening. “You are already in it. I just need you to handle it better. I don’t presume to know much about relationships, but I think you are pushing him away out of fear. Don’t do it. That man would burn the world to the ground for you, Annabelle. Don’t make him regret it.”

She didn’t respond, her gaze dropping to the floor as tears welled in her eyes.

Satisfied he had made his point, Angelo turned to leave.

But before he reached the door, he paused.

“Think about it,” he said over his shoulder. “Before it’s too late.”