Chapter 4 Free

Olivia Fernandes

Dante pressed down on the gas, a wide grin spreading across his face. He looked like he was having the time of his life, taking sharp turns and using the empty road as if it were his own private playground.

Inside me, a mess of tangled, confusing feelings twisted and churned, and honestly, I had no idea what to do about it. Still, I chose that this would be the most reckless thing I'd ever done. For the first time in my life, I let myself be impulsive. I let this stranger hold my safety in his hands.

There was something about him that made me want to trust him. Maybe it was the way his fingers had brushed my skin, leaving behind a feeling I couldn't name. Something new. Something I didn't expect. I couldn't explain it, but it didn't feel wrong.

"Giving up the fight?" he asked, noticing how calm I'd become.

"Would be a waste of energy, wouldn't it?" I replied, trying to keep my voice even.

"Definitely." He smirked, adjusting his glasses with easy confidence, then popped another piece of gum into his mouth. "I guess you won't mind taking a little detour then."

When I saw the sign announcing we were leaving Vale Dália, my eyes widened in surprise.

"What are we doing in Caliandra at this hour?" I asked, not bothering to hide my curiosity.

"Trust me, Olivia," he said, with a seriousness that knocked the breath out of me.

"You're the one who said that would be stupid," I shot back-half joking, half daring him.

"You're smart. But just this once, let me lead. Let me have the night."

"All right, Dante," I said, testing how his name felt on my tongue. I liked it. "Lead the way. Just for tonight."

The rain stopped as soon as we entered Caliandra. The scenery changed in an instant-tall buildings, little greenery, and a sea of city lights. It was a bustling place, filled with nightclubs and art events. The kind of city for social butterflies-which I most definitely was not.

Since moving to Vale Dália, I'd only been to Caliandra once- and that was with Lucas. I remembered him spending the night trying to set me up with random guys at a club, never realizing he was the only one I actually wanted. At least until I met Dante.

I barely knew anything about him. Not his age, though he was older than me, not his job, his interests, or even if he was married (which I sincerely hoped he wasn't). That uncertainty unsettled me. Being this exposed, this vulnerable in a stranger's car was terrifying... but also deeply intriguing. I wanted to know him, even if everything about this was wildly unconventional.

"Can you roll the windows down?" I asked, and he did so immediately.

The cool wind brushed my skin as I leaned my arm against the open window. I caught a glimpse of myself in the side mirror and was relieved to find I didn't look as drowned as I'd feared.

I rested my head on my arm and closed my eyes, savoring the strange freedom of that moment. And somehow, paradoxically, I felt completely free right there beside him.

"We're here," Dante said, breaking the silence as he looked at me in a way that sent a chill down my spine.

"And where exactly is here?" I asked, unsure what to expect.

"You'll see," he replied, parking the car in front of a dark building that looked... less than safe.

Against every voice of reason in my head, I stepped out and followed him.

We walked around to the back of the building and entered through a narrow passage that led to a green door. Behind it, an old elevator. Dante pressed the button, and the doors opened so quickly that I didn't even have time to question him. He held out his hand to me, and I hesitated.

But just as I reached for him, the elevator doors began to close. In one swift motion, he pulled me inside, my body colliding with his, the impact taking my breath away.

We were so close, the heat between us nearly unbearable. He held my hand against his back, while his other arm locked me against him. My gaze climbed to his, and for a second, the entire world disappeared. He was devastatingly handsome.

Dante stared back with the same intensity, as if memorizing every inch of my face. The weight of our closeness was almost too much. And only when the doors slid open on the fifth floor did he finally release me. Gently. Reluctantly.

And me?

I would've let him do anything he wanted to me in that moment. That realization terrified me.

I turned to follow him and found myself stepping into a loft, beautifully decorated, canvases scattered across every wall. As I looked closer, I recognized them. The same artist Lucas had in his house-sensual, provocative paintings, full of light and color, and perfectly orchestrated chaos.

"They're beautiful," I whispered, stunned by the depth in each piece.

"I saw the way you looked at them at the party," Dante said, moving toward me. "You looked captivated. That caught my attention."

I turned to face him, curiosity blooming inside me. I tried to recall every detail from the party. How had I not noticed him?

And who was this man?

"Who are you, Dante?"