C72 Show Me

Annabelle’s heart thumped loudly as Dante emerged into the bright morning light, his dark, slightly damp hair still tousled from his earlier shower.

He moved with his usual confidence, his black trousers clinging to his muscular frame, and his crisp white shirt rolled at the sleeves revealing the sinewy strength of his forearms.

His intense gaze locked onto hers, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“You know you’ll pay for that, right?” His tone was low and threatening.

Yet it was laced with unmistakable mischief.

Annabelle folded her arms across her chest, masking her nervousness.

She guessed he wouldn’t want his men to know that he had been bested by her.

So, she tilted her chin defiantly and asked with feigned innocence, “What exactly did I do?”

His jaw ticked, and for a moment, she thought he might let the matter drop.

But then his lips curved into a devilish smirk as he stepped closer, his presence as overwhelming as ever.

His hand slid possessively around her waist, and he pulled her closer.

“Oh, nothing much,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Just the way you were moaning last night. I’m sure everyone heard you, loud and clear.” As Annabelle’s eyes widened, he turned casually to one of his men, “Ri…?”

Annabelle’s hand shot up, covering his mouth before he could finish.

Embarrassment washed over her like a wave, her cheeks burning hotter than the summer sun streaming through the windows. “Stop it!” she hissed, her green eyes flashing with fury.

Dante’s eyes danced with laughter, his amusement evident despite the muffling of her hand.

When his gaze flicked down to her lips, her breath caught, and she quickly pulled away.

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and smug. “Don’t worry, baby,” he said, his tone infuriatingly casual. “I don’t mind picking up right where we left off.”

His dark eyes glinted with promise, and Annabelle felt heat rise in places she tried desperately to ignore.

She forced herself to stand taller. “I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice sharp as she ignored the knot of nerves tightening in her stomach.

Dante tilted his head, his expression halfway between teasing and indulgent. “Fine. But first, I need food,” he declared unapologetically. “Someone…,” he said pointedly, tilting his head as a smirk widened, “...completely drained me last night.”

Annabelle’s mouth fell open. “You…” Words failed her as her cheeks flamed even brighter.

She tried to escape, muttering, “Enjoy your damn food,” as she turned to leave.

“Oh no, you’re not running away,” Dante said, catching her arm effortlessly.

His grip was firm but gentle as he steered her toward the breakfast room. “You haven’t eaten either, have you?”

Annabelle opened her mouth to protest, but her stomach betrayed her with a loud, humiliating growl.

Dante raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Thought so,” he said smugly, his tone victorious.

She reluctantly followed him, biting back retorts as the warm, inviting aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling bacon hit her senses.

The breakfast table was laden with an array of dishes.

Omelettes bursting with vibrant vegetables, fluffy pancakes dusted with powdered sugar, and a fruit platter so colourful it could have been a painting.

The soft sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a golden hue over the pristine table setting.

As the cook served them, Dante leaned back in his chair, his dark gaze fixed on her. “You need to eat well,” he said, his deep voice drawing her attention. “You’ll need the energy if you plan to keep twisting men’s dicks.”

Annabelle stiffened, her fork pausing mid-air.

She knew what he was referring to, but she refused to rise to his bait.

Instead, she focused on her plate, determined not to let him derail her.

She wondered how the staff could keep a straight face and even manage to tell them to enjoy their food before leaving.

The food was delicious, and despite her earlier resolve, she found herself enjoying the meal.

When she tried to talk, he simply said, “Can I at least enjoy eating with a beautiful woman without thinking of anything else?”

Annabelle’s mouth tightened at the edges as she supposed he meant his dead wife.

Since they said she looked like a woman, he didn’t mind passing the compliment off to her like a stray.

She didn’t let her anger show in the fake smile she gave him as she said, “Okay, please take your time. We can talk after.”

“Thank you,” he said, still with an amusing look that made her think she hadn't fooled him.

She focused on her meal and wolfed it down as fast as she could.

She ignored his jab that she shouldn’t choke.

And ignored his lingering looks that didn’t let her feel the taste of what she was eating.

Once she cleared her plate, she sassily tilted it towards him to see and raised her brows at him.

“Ah,” he said with an infectious grin that almost made her smile.

She had not seen him grin before, and it caught her off-guard.

But then he had to ask, “You sure you don’t need more?”

“I am sure,” she said tersely and drank her water.

It was more to do something with her hands than any thirst.

She waited for the staff to clear their plates before bringing up what had been on her mind all morning. “When are we leaving for Stoneraine?” she asked, her tone careful but firm.

Dante’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, but he didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes assessing her. “Tell me about your life there,” he said, his voice deceptively casual.

Caught off guard, Annabelle hesitated but then relented.

She grudgingly recounted snippets of her life in Stoneraine.

She told him about their house.

Her mom.

The supermarket where she started working after high school.

She ignored his question about why she didn’t further her education and steered him back to how much Cathy missed home and would like to see their mom as soon as possible.

She narrated it as casually as she could, but she saw the flicker of something dark and dangerous in Dante’s expression as he said, “That is not all I want to hear, but I will give you that. For now.”

She shrugged and she repeated her question. “When are we leaving?”

Her emerald eyes locked onto his, challenging him to delay her again.

Dante leaned forward, his gaze never wavering. “When I’m satisfied.”

Annabelle frowned. “Satisfied with what?”

He gave her a long look before responding.

His tone was even, almost too calm. “Satisfied that the only thing you’ve learned isn’t just how to twist men’s dicks.”

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“You’ll see,” he said before getting up.

“Come,” he said before leaving the breakfast room.

Annabelle reluctantly followed, her mind racing.

She soon realised that he was heading toward the training room.

When they reached the spacious room, Dante removed his jacket, revealing the taut muscles beneath his fitted shirt.

He rolled up his sleeves with deliberate precision, each movement exuding authority and purpose.

“I’ll be your training partner today,” he announced, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Annabelle’s jaw tightened. “Why?”

“To see if Angelo had been going easy on you.”

Her eyes flared as she said, “You know he hasn’t.”

He merely shrugged as he calmly stood there like he had all the time in the world. “Prove it,”

“Prove what?” she snapped peevishly.

Dante smirked, his eyes glinting with a challenge. “Prove that you’re ready to face anything…or anyone…in Stoneraine.”

Annabelle crossed her arms. “I can handle myself.”

Dante stepped closer, his towering presence enveloping her. “Good,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

“Now, show me,”