C74 Too Good For Him

Dante stood by the window of his office, the golden hues of the setting sun casting a warm glow across the room.

The glass in his hand remained untouched, the amber liquid inside reflecting his restless thoughts.

He knew he couldn’t hold Annabelle back any longer.

She was determined, fierce, and maddeningly stubborn.

Qualities that made him burn for her.

And terrified him as fuck too.

If it were up to him, he’d keep her away from anything that could hurt her.

Stoneraine.

Tad.

The danger lurking in every corner of his world.

But he couldn’t deny her forever.

The guilt gnawed at him as he remembered the sprain she’d gotten during their last sparring match.

He hadn’t meant to push her so hard but had realised that the woman was too stubborn for her own good.

Her relentless determination was trying on his nerves and he almost wished she was still the shivering, fainting mess she had been after she woke up.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered as he drank deeply.

He knew he could never want a whimpering damsel in distress.

Annabelle’s strong will was a perfect match for him.

“If only she would see it,” he thought to himself.

Her ankle injury had been minor.

Aguillar had assured him it was a Grade 1 sprain, nothing serious.

But it didn’t ease the weight on his chest.

She was healing well, and despite himself, Dante had been impressed by her progress.

She was fast, precise, and ruthless when it came to protecting herself.

It was the look in her eyes, though…the cold, calculative gleam during their sparring…that left him uneasy.

That was the reason why he had pushed her so hard that day.

She was slipping into his world too easily.

He hated the thought of her needing to protect herself like that.

His fingers tightened around the glass as a familiar frustration surged through him.

His world was poison, and she was too good for it.

Too good for him.

Yet, here she was, woven into his life like a thread he couldn’t pull loose no matter how much he tried.

Annabelle didn’t even like him.

That much was clear.

Since their first night together, she’d kept her distance, her gaze cool and detached whenever they crossed paths.

It wasn’t just his body that burned for her; it was something deeper, more primal.

And she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

So Dante had resolved to win her over.

The past week had been a test of his patience and persistence.

Annabelle had ignored him at first, brushing off his attempts to help her with clipped replies or outright silence.

He didn’t push too hard.

Instead, he let his actions speak for him.

He made sure she had everything she needed.

From meals brought to her room to small gestures like leaving books, she’d once glanced at on a side table.

He’d even joined her during her quiet moments with Cathy.

Careful not to intrude but present enough to earn her reluctant trust.

Dante couldn’t ignore the dynamic between the sisters.

Cathy looked up to Annabelle with a reverence that went beyond sibling affection.

The girl saw her as a protector, almost like a mother.

It made his chest ache, seeing how much weight Annabelle carried for someone so young.

And yet, despite his restraint, the tension between them simmered.

His desire for her was like a flame he couldn’t douse, but he knew better than to stoke it too soon.

Annabelle needed to trust him first.

To want him.

To choose him, even when faced with the chaos of Stoneraine.

That fear…the fear of losing her…was what had held him back from letting her go so easily.

He wanted her to come back to him no matter what.

To crave him as deeply as he craved her.

The day Aguillar cleared Annabelle to resume her activities, Dante decided to celebrate the milestone.

When Annabelle entered the living room that evening, freshly showered and dressed in a simple blouse and jeans, Dante was waiting for her.

His black suit was impeccable, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at the inked skin beneath.

The glint of his watch caught the light as he stepped toward her, his dark eyes drinking her in.

“What’s with the suit?” Annabelle asked warily, crossing her arms.

Her chestnut hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and her green eyes sparkled with suspicion.

“We’re going out,” Dante said simply, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

She blinked. “Out where?”

“To celebrate,” he said, motioning for her to follow him.

“I didn’t agree to…”

“Bella,” he interrupted, his tone low and commanding. “You’ve spent the past week recovering. Humour me for one evening.”

Her jaw tightened, but she relented with a sigh. “Fine. But if this is some scheme to—”

“You’ll see,” he cut in smoothly, his smirk deepening.

Annabelle changed into the dress he had already told Maria to get ready for her.

The black, knee-length number clung to her curves in a way that made Dante’s pulse quicken.

Her reluctance was clear in her stiff posture, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Stunning,” he murmured as she joined him by the car, her cheeks flushing under his gaze.

The restaurant he took her to was an upscale rooftop bistro overlooking the city.

The warm glow of string lights cast a golden hue over the intimate space, and a soft breeze carried the scent of lavender and grilled delicacies.

“This is...unexpected,” Annabelle admitted as they sat across from each other.

“I’m full of surprises,” Dante replied, his tone laced with amusement.

Conversation between them had gotten better over the past week and Dante was glad that being away from her sister didn’t change that.

He realised that she was still nervous about being outside after the last incident though.

He had to remind her that those men had been dealt with and no one would mess with her while he was around.

“Why are they staring at me so much,” she finally murmured, and he realised that her reason for nervousness was probably not what he was thinking of before.

Dante looked around to see the patrons who were subtly staring at them.

Some nodded at him in greeting before they turned away.

Dante had wanted to get the whole bistro for them for the night, but Angelo had advised him that would make Annabelle even more nervous.

“It’s because you are with me,” he said simply.

He smiled as she rolled her eyes and exaggeratedly said, “Such humility,”

Then she hurriedly shook her head when he asked her if she would like to have the restaurant to herself.

When she finally asked about Stoneraine, Dante leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine.

“We’ll go,” he said, his voice steady. “When I’m satisfied you’re ready.”

Her instant pleased look morphed into a frown as she asked, “Satisfied with what?”

“That you’ve learned more than just how to twist a man’s balls,” he replied, his dark eyes glinting with mischief.

Her cheeks turned crimson, and she glared at him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn,” he countered, his lips curving into a slow, devastating smile.

The tension between them hung thick in the air, crackling like static.

Dante wanted nothing more than to pull her across the table and kiss her senseless, but he restrained himself.

Tonight wasn’t about that.

As the night wore on, Dante realised something he hadn’t admitted to himself before.

He wasn’t just trying to win Annabelle over.

He was falling for her.

And that terrified him more than anything else.