Chapter 2 2

Vianne's POV

A wild laugh slipped out before I could stop it-sharp and too loud. It wasn't amusement. It was fear clawing its way out. My heart pounded against my ribs like it wanted to break free.

"Unbelievable," I gasped, breathless. "Of all places... I can't believe you're here."

Dante De Santis's voice sliced through the air, cold and certain. "You didn't expect me."

My chest tightened, and I fought to keep my voice steady. "No. I wasn't expecting you. But I-well, I-"

I kept looking toward the kitchen, hoping my boss wouldn't call my real name. I hadn't told him the truth two days ago. Rule number one when you're trying to disappear: don't let anyone know who you are.

"Miss Vianne."

I froze.

He knew. My real name.

Crap.

The way he said it-like he owned it. Like he owned me. Like he knew from the start I was lying.

Game over.

He smiled, sharp and cold. "Nice to meet you."

I sighed. "Okay, so... I'm not Stephanie. Obviously. She was the one invited to the party. I used her name to get in, then met you and just kept lying. I don't know what I was thinking. Actually, I do. But-"

Three men rose in perfect sync from a booth across the room. My stomach dropped, instinct flaring. I didn't need to ask who they were-their calm, precise movements said it all. They must have been his.

One moved toward the front door. Another headed for the kitchen. The third disappeared down the hallway. They didn't look at me, but I still felt trapped.

"What's going on?" My voice cracked higher than I intended.

The kitchen door swung open. Stephanie and Lauren stepped in, trailed by confused cooks.

"You're closing early," Dante said, turning toward the front.

Miles stormed out from behind the counter, scowling. "Who the hell are you?"

Dante didn't flinch. "No one you're worth knowing."

Miles narrowed his eyes. "No one?"

Dante stepped forward slowly, voice low and sharp as a blade. "Exactly. Say it. 'No one.' Say it until it sinks in-because in this room, I'm the only one who matters."

His voice didn't rise, but the weight of it silenced the whole place. His presence shifted the air, raw and commanding.

Stephanie lifted a trembling hand. "We can't leave. We'll get fired."

Dante met her gaze. "Stephanie, there are worse things than being fired. Do as I say."

A chill crept down my spine.

He knew her name too. Just like mine. And if he knew that much, what else did he know? Where I lived? What I ate for breakfast? Who I was before all this?

"I don't care about being fired," Lauren said, fierce and locked on me. "What's going on with Vianne?"

I shook my head, silently warning her to stay out of it.

One of the men stepped forward-tall, calm, controlled. "Vianne will be fine."

Lauren didn't back down. "Who are you?"

"Marco," he said flatly. "Not that it matters."

He guided her toward the door with quiet authority. Stephanie was already gone. The kitchen staff kept stealing nervous glances, but when Dante's eyes swept over them, they quickly looked away.

They were pretending this wasn't happening. Like this wasn't a hostage situation in disguise. Like the man commanding our lives hadn't just declared war by walking in.

Dante flipped the sign on the door to Closed and faced me again. I didn't move. Every muscle was frozen, even though I felt like I was burning from the inside out.

"You lied," Dante said, voice low and cold. "You're not Stephanie Miller."

I lifted a hand to my cheap uniform. "Not an undercover reporter either, just in case you were wondering."

He stepped closer and grabbed my wrist. I flinched but didn't pull away.

"What are you doing?" I asked, voice steady despite the tremor inside.

He studied me-eyes sharp, unreadable. Then, without warning, he leaned in, voice low and rough. "Who sent you?"

The question hit like a gut punch. I blinked, confused. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

He said nothing. Instead, his gaze burned into mine like he was piecing together a puzzle only he could see.

"You weren't at the party by accident. Someone put you up to using your friend's name to get in... letting me fuck you. Who was it?"

I swallowed hard, heart racing. "No one sent me. Why would you think I'm some setup?"

He leaned closer, voice rougher still. "Someone coached you. There is no way in hell that what happened that night was your idea."

A cold twist curled in my gut. Did he really think I was a setup? A trap sent to bring him down?

"I wasn't coached," I said, hating the half-truth. "I left. You told me to wait. I didn't."

"Maybe because you got what you wanted."

I snapped. "Oh, right. Like I planned all that-seduced you into telling me to wait after orgasms?"

I tried to free my hand from his grip, but he held on tight and didn't let go.

"I don't take you for a woman who's easily satisfied."

I was. Very.

I squeezed my thighs together, trying to think straight.

"I just wanted to have fun. Blow off steam. If I'd known who you were, I would've run."

"You knew who I was," he growled.

"I didn't. And now you're here, threatening me. If anyone's got shady motives, it's not me."

He pulled back. His eyes cooled, barely. "I'm not threatening you."

I scoffed. "Could've fooled me."

Through the front window, I saw Lauren pacing outside, probably deciding whether to call someone.

Dante stepped into my view. "This isn't a threat. It's a fact-finding mission. I want to know who the fuck you are and what the fuck you want."

"Oh, since you asked so politely..."

A low growl rumbled in his chest. "I'm not going to hurt you-unless I have to. It's your call."

I opened my mouth to retort, but something flickered in his eyes when he lowered his eyes to my chest level.

I opened my mouth to crack some dumb joke about my cleavage-but didn't get the chance.

Dante De Santis lowered his shoulders and tackled me to the ground.

Then, the glass behind us shattered with a loud crash.