CHAPTER 28: FIRST ATTEMPT TO INTIMACY

Her heart dropped like a stone in her chest.

Floating in the water, she fought to keep her breathing steady, her body shivering uncontrollably. Her teeth chattered, her limbs slowly losing strength from the temperature, but it wasn’t the cold that paralyzed her. It was the realization that her life could end in that pool, without anyone knowing.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to see his face. His head was tilted downward, his cap pulled low to conceal most of his identity. The shadows did the rest, cloaking him in anonymity. But then, when he tilted his head just slightly, she saw it—those gold teeth glinting faintly in the dark.

She’d seen those teeth before.

He was one of the men who had tortured her the night Katherine planned to have her killed.

Which also meant that Katherine was behind this.

Alisha’s lips parted slightly, disbelief mixing with disgust. She should’ve known Katherine wouldn’t stop. That woman was relentless, fueled by envy, and capable of anything.

The man raised the gun, pointing it directly at her.

Alisha’s breath hitched. Her muscles tightened. There was no time to scream, no time to duck. Her eyes widened, frozen with the knowledge that this might be it.

Then, suddenly the door to the pool suddenly flew open as someone stormed in.

It was none other than Dante.

The intruders didn’t hesitate. They bolted.

Dante was just about to chase after them when his eyes landed on Alisha. Soaked, trembling, and still in the water.

He stopped mid-step and turned toward her instead.

"What are you doing? Go after them!" Alisha barked, her voice tight with urgency.

But Dante didn’t reply. He kicked off his shoes and jumped straight into the pool with a splash, the cold water erupting around him.

She gritted her teeth in frustration, resisting the urge to scream again as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her toward the shallow end. Once he guided her to the pool’s edge and helped her climb out, she immediately turned to him, her body still dripping, her voice laced with anger.

"What is wrong with you?! Why the hell did you jump in? You could’ve caught them by now!"

Dante blinked, brows furrowed. "I thought you were drowning."

"Did I look like I was drowning?" she shot back, her tone sharp. "I was floating, not flailing."

"You were in the water. Alone. With a gun pointed at your head. Forgive me for trying to save your damn life," he countered.

She shook her head and scoffed. "Unbelievable. That might’ve been the only chance we had to find out who sent them!"

"I’m still the reason you’re alive right now," he reminded her. "Maybe a thank you would be nice."

She didn’t say anything. Her glare did all the talking.

Yanking off her heels, she turned to walk away, muttering under her breath, "Well, now they’re gone."

Dante grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Where do you think you’re going?"

"Somewhere I don’t have to see you, or your shadows," she hissed, trying to pull away.

Something in his chest tightened at her words, but he didn’t let it show.

"And stop touching me," she snapped. "How many times do I have to repeat that? Don’t touch me when there’s no one to fool with our relationship."

He let go.

"Look, we can’t go back in there looking like this," he said, his tone more controlled now. "And whether you like it or not, we have to act like a couple. So maybe stop treating me like the enemy."

As much as she hated it, he was right.

Her arms wrapped around her torso as the cold wind bit into her wet clothes. Her whole body trembled.

Dante watched her for a moment. A small voice inside him told him to hug her, to offer some warmth—but he knew better. With Alisha, there was a fine line between comfort and catastrophe. One wrong move, and he might end up with a bruised groin.

"Come with me," he said instead.

They exited through a less obvious corridor that led them toward the hotel lobby, far away from the ballroom and the crowd. The damp footprints they left behind were the only sign of the chaos that had almost unfolded.

The receptionist eyed them warily as they approached the desk, soaking wet. Questions danced behind her professional expression, but she didn’t voice any of them.

Dante booked a room on the spot.

Once inside, he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and tossed it to her. "Dry yourself off."

Alisha caught it, barely holding back a scoff. She rolled her eyes and began patting down her arms and hair. The floor beneath their feet squelched with water, and she made a mental note that they’d probably be charged extra.

She needed a change of clothes—desperately. Her soaked dress clung to her skin uncomfortably. Thankfully, her purse hadn’t fallen in the water. She’d thrown it on the bed the moment they walked in.

As she stepped toward it, her wet feet slipped on the smooth surface of the tiled floor.

A surprised yelp escaped her lips.

But before she could hit the ground, strong arms caught her mid-fall.

His grip was firm, secure, one arm around her waist, the other bracing her back. She instinctively grabbed onto him, her hands looping around his neck.

Their faces were close—too close. She could feel his breath on her cheek. It smelled faintly of cigarettes mixed with mint. Her eyes flicked to his lips, parted slightly, as if he were about to say something.

She frowned slightly, unsure how to react. She hadn’t expected him to be the type who smoked. He didn’t strike her as that kind of guy. But maybe she’d misjudged him, again.

Dante held her a moment longer than necessary before helping her stand. But even when she was steady on her feet, his hands remained on her waist.

His eyes locked with hers. The room was quiet except for their shallow breathing and the occasional drip of water hitting the floor.

Something stirred in Alisha’s stomach.

An unfamiliar feeling. Like a low hum beneath her skin. A spark of something she didn’t want to name.

She should’ve recoiled. Stepped away. Pushed him.

But she didn’t move.

He was shirtless now, only a pair of dark shorts slung low on his hips. She realized, a little too late, that he was... well built. More than she’d noticed before. His abs were carved and hard, his chest broad and firm. The kind of physique that came from working out with every chance he got.

And his warmth... it seeped into her like fire, banishing the cold from her skin.

His thumb brushed against her waist.

"You want me to keep holding you?" he murmured, a teasing smirk playing at the edge of his lips. When she didn’t reply, he leaned towards her face but the door opened abruptly.