Chapter 5 Together alone

Ariella stood in the center of the room, her breath still shaky, the weight of Dante's presence lingering in the air. She could feel the tension thickening around her, and the silence between them stretched, charged with unspoken words. She wasn't sure what to make of him anymore, his power, his control, his carelessness.

The flicker of the city lights outside the window seemed so distant, a reminder that life beyond this moment was still moving, still living, while here in this room with Dante, everything felt suspended in time.

Her mind kept drifting back to the kiss, the intensity of it, the urgency, the way his lips had captured hers, almost as if marking a territory she hadn't known was his. He had been relentless in his touch, and despite herself, she had responded, her body reacting before she even understood why.

But now, with him gone into the bathroom, there was a moment of strange stillness. She glanced over at the glass, watching her own reflection. She looked different now, her heart racing, her chest tight. She wasn't sure who she was becoming, but it felt as though she was walking further into a world she didn't fully understand.

She shook her head, trying to focus, but her thoughts kept circling back to him.

Why had he brought her here? What did he want from her?

Ariella felt a spark of anger, followed by uncertainty. She was far out of her depth, and despite everything, the danger, the chaos, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. But that didn't mean she had to like it.

The door to the bathroom opened with a soft click, pulling her out of her thoughts. Dante appeared, his hair still damp, his body wrapped in a towel, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

For a moment, she couldn't look away. His chest was broad, the muscles defined and strong, his posture commanding as ever. The towel hung low around his waist, and the aura of masculinity about him was almost overwhelming.

Ariella quickly averted her gaze, feeling exposed, but it didn't go unnoticed. Dante's lips curled into a faint smirk, but he didn't say anything. He walked quietly past her, his poise unshaken, as he reached for the dresser and began rummaging through it.

Ariella felt a strange tension settle in her bones. She couldn't quite shake the heat rising in her cheeks, but she was determined to push through it. The silence stretched between them once more, both of them existing in the same space, yet worlds apart.

She turned her back to him, her fingers trembling as she reached for her own clothes. The desire to shower, to cleanse herself of the weight of the night, was overwhelming. She undressed swiftly, her mind still racing with thoughts of Dante-what he wanted, what he was doing to her.

Stepping into the bathroom, she allowed herself a brief moment to breathe, the cool air brushing over her skin as she let the hot water run. She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the tiled wall, trying to shake the feeling of being utterly out of control.

She couldn't deny the pull he had on her, the way he made her feel both vulnerable and alive, both terrified and drawn to him.

When she finally emerged from the shower, the steam clinging to her skin, she found Dante still by the dresser. He hadn't moved, hadn't acknowledged her, and yet, the presence of his attention felt as if it were still on her, as if his eyes were still watching her every move.

He didn't look at her. Didn't say a word. Just picked up his phone, eyes fixed on the screen as he scrolled calmly, his expression unreadable.

Heat crept into Ariella's cheeks. She turned away quickly and walked to the wardrobe, pulling out her nightgown and robe. Slipping behind the edge of the curtain near the window, she changed swiftly, the silence in the room making every sound of fabric feel louder than it should.

By the time she emerged in her silk nightgown and wrapped herself in the robe, Dante had put down his phone and picked up a book. He sat against the headboard now, legs stretched out, absorbed in the quiet turning of pages.

Ariella padded quietly to the bed and slid beneath the covers on her side. Not too close. Not too far.

He didn't acknowledge her presence. And yet, she could feel him-like a storm just waiting for the wind to shift.

The silence between them stretched, thick and humming with unspoken things. The only sounds were the soft rustle of pages as Dante flipped through his book, and the distant hum of the city outside the tall glass windows.

Ariella lay on her side, facing away from him, staring into the dim room. The cool sheets felt strange against her skin, too crisp, too foreign. This wasn't her bed. This wasn't her life.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. But her mind wouldn't settle. Not with him so close. Not after everything that had happened tonight.

She heard him close the book with a soft thud and place it on the nightstand. The light clicked off a moment later, plunging the room into a hushed darkness.

Still, he didn't say anything.

She waited. Not sure for what, an explanation, a question, a touch?

None came.

Only the shift of weight as he adjusted himself beneath the covers. The bed dipped slightly. And then stillness again.

Ariella curled further into herself, her thoughts tangled.

She wasn't sure what they were now.

Not enemies. Not lovers.

Something... in between.