Chapter 3 Dante

Olivia Fernandes

The frustration I felt lasted less than a millisecond-just long enough for my brain to register the sight before me. And for the second time that night, I was completely speechless.

My eyes swept over him, absorbing every detail. One hand gripped the steering wheel with quiet confidence. Veins ran along his forearm and up to a defined bicep beneath a damp, clinging shirt. His chest was outlined through the soaked fabric of his white dress shirt, a few stray raindrops trailing down his collarbone. His glasses were slightly fogged, and wet black hair-threaded with a few strands of gray-clung to his forehead. The faint scruff lining his jaw completed the picture. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of a film.

For a few seconds, all I could do was look. I wanted to remember, like he might disappear any moment. I needed to etch that face into memory, that almost hypnotic presence. But the silence between us eventually dragged me back to reality.

What the hell was I doing in his car?

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice low, shaken. I was in a complete stranger's car.

"You're the one in my car, so I think I should be the one asking that," he replied, with a smile that made my entire body melt-though I'd never admit it.

"Oh my God," I muttered, finally grasping how insane this was. I had just jumped into a random man's car. What the hell was I thinking? I blamed Lucas for this. All of this.

I grabbed the door handle, determined to end this moment of madness as quickly as possible. But the second I tried to leave, a warm, firm hand caught my wrist.

His touch sent a jolt through me-from the tips of my fingers to the soles of my feet-but of course, I blamed the cold. The rain. I'd always found it easier to blame whatever was around me than to face the truth.

And the truth this stranger was making me nervous.

"I can't let you walk out in that storm," he said, releasing my wrist.

I almost moaned in frustration when he let go. But I held it in. I was still me-still Olivia. The girl who kept her emotions locked down tight.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I don't even know you. Honestly, I think I'm safer walking in the rain than sitting in a stranger's car." I tried to sound firm, but my voice cracked just slightly.

He gave a crooked smile, adjusting his glasses as they slid down his nose. One eyebrow lifted.

"Dante. Nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand toward me.

I stared at it, frozen. I didn't move. Didn't shake it. But God, I wanted to. Just to feel that electric spark again.

"Olivia," I said flatly. "Knowing your name doesn't mean I trust you, Dante."

"You'd be a fool if you did," he said with a short laugh, then, without warning, buckled his seatbelt and locked the doors. The engine purred to life.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I snapped. "Are you insane?!"

His smirk returned, calm and collected in the most infuriating way.

"Buckle up and give me your address. I'm taking you home. Safe and sound," he said with steady conviction, like this was the most logical thing in the world.

I glanced out the window at the guards stationed at Lucas's mansion. I banged on the glass, hoping to get their attention, but nothing.

"The windows are bulletproof," he said, chuckling, pulling away from the curb. He turned on the radio to some random station and grabbed a watermelon-flavored gum from the glovebox.

He offered me one. I waved his hand away with a sharp flick of my fingers.

"I don't know what your deal is, or what you want, but I have a tracking chip. They'll find me," I bluffed, my voice steady and clear this time.

He laughed- really laughed. Like I'd just told the funniest joke of the night.

"I just want to take you home, Olivia," he repeated. And then, once again, his hand returned to my wrist.

I closed my eyes, breathing in deep as the warmth of his touch seeped into my rain-chilled skin.

Why does this feel so good?

I shook my head, trying to push away the thought, but he noticed. He saw that it wasn't just the physical touch that affected me. There was something else, something deeper. And it intrigued him.

Without saying another word, he gestured to the GPS and asked for my address. Reluctantly, I typed in a random location wasn't about to give him my real one.

We drove aimlessly around the city for a while. When the car finally stopped at the address I'd entered, he raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

"All right, Olivia. Since you won't tell me where to take you... I'll choose the destination."