C68 Hanging By A Thread

Annabelle sat on the cold stone steps of the grand house, her arms wrapped around her knees as the sun began to dip low in the sky.

The golden light spilt across the gravel driveway, painting everything in warm hues, but she felt none of its glow.

Her heart thudded with frustration and impatience.

But she held on to the flicker of hope that had kept her glued to this spot for hours.

One week.

That’s how long Angelo had said it would take before they left for Stoneraine. Now, every passing day felt like a betrayal.

Not just to her, but to Cathy.

Cathy’s excited questions about seeing their mom again had turned into wary glances and quiet nods whenever Annabelle muttered her usual excuse, “Soon”.

But soon wasn’t cutting it anymore.

Annabelle couldn’t bear the disappointment in Cathy’s eyes anymore.

Nor could she bear the arrogance of the man who had made a promise without the intention of fulfilling it.

And so, she waited.

“Miss, it’s better if you go inside. The boss will call for you once he gets back,” one of Dante’s guards said, his voice respectful but firm.

Annabelle didn’t even look up. “You’ve been saying that for days. I’ll wait.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably, his boots scraping the gravel. “It’s not good for you to sit out here all day.”

She ignored him.

Maria came out twice.

Once to call her in for lunch and then for dinner.

Each time, urging her to come in and rest, but Annabelle simply waved her off.

She wasn’t going to let anything stop her from getting her answers that day.

Cathy even came out at one point, her soft voice breaking through Annabelle’s thoughts.

“What are you doing out here?” Cathy asked, tilting her head.

“I’m observing something,” Annabelle said lightly, ruffling her sister’s hair.

Cathy didn’t ask what, which was a miracle in itself.

Annabelle hugged her tightly before sending her back inside with Maria, promising she’d kiss her goodnight.

The promise kept her anchored.

She’d go in, but not until she saw him.

Even as the evening chill settled over her, she stayed put.

The guards muttered among themselves.

She was sure they would probably have called Dante to report her stubbornness.

Annabelle didn’t care.

She huddled under the blanket Maria had brought and sipped the tea, feeling its warmth seep into her freezing hands.

Her exhaustion eventually caught up with her, and her head fell back against the stone wall. Sleep came in hazy fragments, pulling her under in fits.

*********

The sensation of being lifted startled her awake.

Annabelle blinked blearily, her head lolling against a firm chest that smelled faintly of cedar and something darker.

For a moment, she drowsily relaxed as the warmth of the arms cradled her like a cocoon.

She nuzzled her cold cheek against the warm body.

Then reality penetrated her fuzzy mind.

Her eyes flew open, and she stiffened.

She was no longer outside, and she was in the arms of a man she wanted to punch so badly for his fake promises.

“What…” she began, twisting against his hold.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes shadowed but steady.

There was something almost tender in his gaze that made her heart flip.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll drop you,” he said in a low voice.

“Then put me down!” she snapped, struggling harder.

She tried to use the defence move Angelo had taught her on him, and she regretted it immediately.

Her wriggling threw him off balance, and Annabelle felt a jarring sense of weightlessness.

She screamed, panic overtaking her until she landed softly on a bed.

Before she could straighten, Dante fell forward.

He would have fallen right on her if he had not caught himself with his hands on either side of her head.

Her breath hitched as he loomed over her, his broad shoulders and powerful body blocking out the dim light of the room.

She could feel the heat radiating off him, his weight pressing her lightly into the plush mattress.

“Are you insane?” she gasped, trying to push him off. "Let go of me!"

Dante’s jaw clenched, and he stared down at her with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You’ve been sitting outside all day. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was waiting for you!” she shot back, her voice trembling with anger and something else she couldn’t name.

His gaze darkened, and his nostrils flared. “If you wanted to talk to me so badly, there are better ways than freezing yourself half to death.”

Annabelle glared up at him, her hands curling into fists. “You’ve been avoiding me! You and Angelo. What was I supposed to do?”

His silence was heavy, his eyes locked on hers like he was reading every thought she tried to hide.

“Get off me,” she demanded, though her voice wavered.

Dante didn’t move. Instead, his gaze dropped to her lips.

Annabelle’s body betrayed her.

Heat pooled low in her stomach as she became acutely aware of every inch of him.

His hard chest brushed against hers as she became aware of the roughness of his breathing and the tension thrumming in the space between them.

An unknown fear made her begin to struggle again.

She just knew she needed to get as far away as possible from him before...

His voice was a rasp as he spoke. “I’m hanging on by a thread, Annabelle. Stay still if you know what’s good for you.”

Her breath came shallow, her chest rising and falling against his. “What…what does that mean?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, his hand cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

She stilled, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said simply, his voice low and unyielding.

It wasn’t a question.

It wasn’t even a command.

It was simply a statement. So certain that it made her pulse race and her thoughts scatter.

Annabelle’s heart thundered in her chest as his head dipped lower.

Annabelle couldn't move.

She couldn't breathe as his lips inched closer to hers.