Chapter 2 Unfinished Business.

Elena didn't look back as she stepped into the club, but she could feel him.

Dante Moretti.

His presence clung to her like smoke, wrapping around her even though he hadn't followed her inside. She told herself it didn't matter. He was just another overconfident man who thought the world bent to his will.

And yet, her hands were still unsteady.

She pushed through the crowd, her body humming with leftover adrenaline. Sofia spotted her near the bar, eyes bright with tipsy excitement.

"There you are! Where'd you disappear to?"

Elena forced a smile. "Just needed some air."

Sofia handed her a drink, oblivious to the way Elena's mind spun. "Well, you missed out. Some guy bought us another round."

Elena frowned. "Who?"

Sofia shrugged. "Didn't say. Bartender just passed them over."

A prickle of unease crawled up Elena's spine. She glanced at the glass in her friend's hand, then at her own.

Then, she felt it again, that presence.

She didn't need to turn around to know he was inside now.

She felt him before she saw him.

Slowly, her eyes flicked up just in time to catch a glimpse of him across the room, standing near the entrance like he owned the place.

His gaze found hers instantly.

Something hot and electric curled in her stomach.

Her fingers tightened around the glass.

Sofia followed her stare. "Whoa. Who is that?"

"No one." The answer came too fast, too sharp.

Sofia arched a brow. "No one? That man looks like sin in a suit. And he's looking right at you."

Elena exhaled slowly, tearing her gaze away. "Let's just dance."

Sofia didn't argue, but Elena felt Dante's eyes on her the entire time.

Watching, waiting.

Like a man who had already made up his mind.

And the worst part?

A small, treacherous part of her wondered what would happen when he finally decided to act.

Elena moved to the music, but her body felt stiff, her movements forced. She should be enjoying herself, losing herself in the rhythm like everyone else around her. But she couldn't. Not when she was hyper-aware of him.

Dante Moretti was still watching.

She hadn't dared to glance back since she spotted him near the entrance, but she could feel his gaze burning into her. Unwavering, unrelenting.

Sofia twirled beside her, laughing. "Okay, seriously, who is that man? Because I swear he hasn't taken his eyes off you all night."

Elena shook her head. "I don't know, and I don't care."

Lie.

Sofia smirked. "Mhm. And yet you keep looking over your shoulder like you do care."

Elena scowled, grabbing her friend's wrist. "Come on. Let's get another drink."

They pushed through the crowd toward the bar. The music pounded, but Elena's heartbeat was louder. The bartender was busy with another customer, so she tapped her fingers against the counter, trying to steady herself.

"Relax, babe," Sofia teased. "If he's rich, dangerous, and hot? That's the jackpot. Have fun with it."

Elena scoffed. "Not my type."

Before Sofia could argue, the bartender finally turned to them. Elena barely noticed him pour the drinks. All she could think about was the way her skin tingled, the way the air seemed to thicken.

And then a shadow at her side.

A figure stepping closer.

Her breath caught before she even turned her head.

"I bought those."

The deep, measured voice sent a shiver down her spine.

Slowly, hesitantly, Elena turned and there he was.

Dante Moretti.

Up close, he was even more devastating. Sharp angles, dark eyes, an air of quiet authority that made the space around him feel smaller. More dangerous.

Sofia sucked in a breath beside her. "Oh shit."

Dante ignored her. His attention was entirely on Elena, like she was the only thing in the room worth noticing.

Elena's fingers curled around her glass. "I didn't ask for a drink."

He tilted his head slightly, as if amused by her resistance. "You didn't have to."

Her stomach tightened.

Sofia coughed. "I, uh-think I'll go dance." She shot Elena a look that said, We are talking about this later, then disappeared into the crowd.

Coward.

Elena turned back to Dante, forcing her spine straight. "You shouldn't waste your money on a stranger."

His lips curled slightly, as if he found her response amusing. "Stranger? You say that like you don't know I've been watching you all night."

Her breath hitched, but she kept her expression neutral. "I noticed. And I don't like being watched."

"Liar."

Heat flared up her neck.

His confidence was infuriating.

Elena exhaled sharply, lifting the drink he bought her. She met his gaze as she downed a slow, deliberate sip.

His eyes darkened. Dangerous.

Elena set the glass down. "Thank you for the drink. But I don't owe you anything."

She turned to leave but before she could take a step, his fingers brushed against her wrist. Not a grip. Not forceful. Just enough to make her stop.

Enough to remind her that he could stop her if he wanted to.

"Elena."

Her stomach clenched. He said her name like he owned it. Like it was something that belonged on his tongue.

Slowly, she turned back to him. "How do you know my name?"

His smirk deepened. "I make it a point to know the things I want."

A shiver ran down her spine.

She knew, without a doubt, that Dante Moretti was a man who always got what he wanted.

And right now?

He wanted her.

Elena's pulse pounded in her ears.

Dante Moretti's words weren't just confident they were a warning. A declaration.

He wanted her. And men like him didn't ask. They took.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see the effect he had on her. "You don't even know me."

He studied her, the dim lighting casting sharp shadows across his face. "Not yet."

Her breath hitched. He said it so simply, like it was inevitable. Like getting to know her wasn't a possibility, but a certainty.

Elena swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. "Well, that's not going to happen."

His smirk didn't falter. If anything, it deepened. "You think you have a choice?"

Her stomach tightened. "I know I do."

He leaned in, slow and deliberate, until his lips were just a breath away from her ear. "We'll see."

A shiver ran down her spine before she could stop it.

Damn him.

She took a step back, needing space. Air. Distance from the way his presence made her feel off balance. "Enjoy your night, Mr. Moretti."

His expression didn't change, but there was something dark in his gaze. Something hungry. "I will, Elena."

The way he said her name like it belonged to him made heat curl low in her stomach.

She turned sharply and disappeared into the crowd, refusing to let herself look back.

But even as she moved to the other side of the club, even as she found Sofia and forced herself to laugh at something ridiculous her friend said she felt him watching, waiting and deep down, she knew this wasn't over.

Not even close.

Elena threw herself into conversation with Sofia, pretending she wasn't shaken. Pretending that the heat still lingering on her skin wasn't from him.

But it was impossible to ignore.

She felt him in every stolen glance, in the weight of his presence pressing against the distance between them. She knew, without looking, that he hadn't left.

And that knowledge unsettled her more than anything.

Sofia nudged her, voice laced with curiosity. "So? Are you gonna tell me who the hell that was?"

Elena exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "No one important."

Sofia raised an eyebrow. "No one important? Babe, that man looked at you like he was deciding how he was going to ruin you."

Elena's stomach twisted. That was exactly what she was afraid of.

Sofia smirked. "And you looked at him like you weren't sure if you wanted to slap him or let him ruin you."

Elena shot her a glare. "I'm leaving."

Her friend groaned. "Oh, come on."

"I have class tomorrow," Elena lied, already weaving through the crowd toward the exit.

The air outside was crisp, a sharp contrast to the thick heat of the club. She inhaled deeply, trying to clear her head.

This was good. She just needed to get home, to put distance between herself and the man who was far too dangerous for her own good.

But the moment she stepped onto the sidewalk, her body went rigid because he was there.

Leaning against a sleek black car parked by the curb waiting.

Elena's heart slammed against her ribs.

Dante Moretti didn't move right away. He just watched her, his dark gaze unreadable, his posture deceptively relaxed. Like he had all the time in the world.

She forced her feet to move, to walk past him without acknowledging him.

"Elena."

His voice slid over her like silk and steel.

She didn't stop.

He let her take another step before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride."

She huffed a sharp laugh, turning slightly. "Not happening."

His lips twitched, like he'd expected her response. "You shouldn't be walking alone at night."

"I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that." His gaze flickered over her, slow and assessing. "But I don't like the idea of someone else trying to test that."

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.

Elena exhaled, steadying herself. "You don't even know me."

He pushed off the car, stepping closer. "I know enough."

Her heart pounded. "And what exactly do you think you know?"

Dante tilted his head, studying her. "You think you can outrun this."

"Outrun what?"

He took another step, and suddenly, she was caged between his presence and the street behind her. "Whatever this is between us."

Elena's breath caught.

There wasn't anything between them.

There couldn't be.

But the way he looked at her the way the air crackled between them made her wonder if she was lying to herself.

Dante smirked, as if he could read her thoughts. "You can keep running, tesoro. But I don't mind chasing."

Her pulse skittered.

She should have been angry, offended, terrified.

Instead, she was something much more dangerous and intrigued. And that scared her more than anything else.

Without another word, she turned and walked away, ignoring the way her skin still burned from his presence.

But as she disappeared into the night, one thought lingered.

She'd escaped him tonight.

But for how long?