CHAPTER 44: A KISS

’What would he want to speak to me about?’ Alisha wondered, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Nathan.

"If there’s anything you want to say to me, I think you should say it in front of my manager," she said firmly, her tone carrying an edge. If he was here, then chances were high he’d already seen the scandalous pictures of Katherine flooding the internet.

But Nathan didn’t look enraged like a man whose wife had just been caught in a compromising position. Instead, his face was infuriatingly calm, collected, collected,almost too composed for the situation.

"I don’t think you would want your manager to hear the words I say to you," Nathan replied evenly, slipping his hands into his pockets with practiced ease. "I won’t take much of your time."

She glanced at Maxine, who gave her a hesitant nod. With a deep breath, Alisha followed Nathan, her heels clicking against the floor as they walked toward the parking area. The bustling noise of the fashion event slowly faded behind them until only the soft hum of distant chatter and the faint rumble of engines surrounded them.

Once they reached the rows of parked cars, Nathan stopped. His expression hardened, the facade of composure cracking ever so slightly. "Katherine told me that you were the one who uploaded those pictures of her on the internet," he said bluntly. "Is that true?"

Alisha cocked an eyebrow, unflinching. If he expected her to deny it, he was mistaken. "That’s right. I’m the one."

His jaw tightened. "Why would you spread something so false about my wife? You may be married to one of the most powerful men in Lexora, but even that doesn’t excuse such behavior. Have some manners, Alisha. You can’t just edit pictures and circulate them for attention."

Her lips curled into a humorless smirk. Katherine has him wrapped around her fingers perfectly, she thought with bitter amusement.

"I can already tell you’ve spoken to your wife about this," she said calmly, "but for her to accuse me of making fake edits?" She let out a short laugh. "That’s rich."

"She’s my wife," Nathan shot back, his voice sharp with loyalty. "I know you did this just to ruin her career. I’ve warned you before, and I’ll say it again—leave Katherine alone."

Alisha’s temper spiked, but she steadied her breathing, her gaze boring into his. "She tried to kill me," she said suddenly. The words slipped past her lips before she could stop them. "And those pictures? They’re not fake. They’re very real. And there’s more where that came from."

Nathan froze, his disbelief written plainly across his face.

"Listen," she continued, her tone chillingly matter-of-fact. "Your so-called wife has been after my life for a while now. She sees me as a threat, and she won’t stop until I’m gone. If you don’t believe me, then give it one week. Within that time, she’ll either send someone to kidnap me or try to kill me again. And when that happens, I’ll release the other videos of her affairs. If you still choose not to believe me..." she shrugged lightly, "That’s qnot my problem."

"That’s impossible," Nathan muttered, shaking his head. "Katherine isn’t that kind of person."

Alisha smirked. "Who knows? Maybe she also had a hand in Evangeline’s disappearance."

His eyes widened, the color draining from his face. That tiny crack in his composure told her everything she needed to know. Katherine hadn’t told him the full story. Perfect.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Nathan standing there with his world unraveling around him.

When she returned to Maxine, she muttered a few brief words before heading straight for Dante’s car.

Inside, Dante sat sulking, his expression twisted into a scowl that screamed irritation. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest, and he refused to look at her.

"What happened?" Alisha asked Rico, suspicion lacing her tone.

"He saw you speaking with Nathan and got jealous," Rico said bluntly, earning an immediate glare from Dante.

Alisha’s lips parted in disbelief. "What?" she asked, then quickly shook her head. "You know what? Never mind. Let’s just take him home."

Rico scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Actually, I still have work to do. You take him. I was just waiting for you to get back so I could head out."

Before Alisha could protest, he bolted like a man fleeing a crime scene.

"What the hell," she muttered under her breath, glaring at the spot where Rico had been standing. If she’d known this was his plan all along, she would have dragged Maxine with her instead. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Dante after what had happened on the terrace.

But she had no choice now.

"Do you want me to drive?" Dante asked, his voice still thick with alcohol but carrying a playful lilt.

"And get both of us killed? No thanks. I can handle it," she said flatly, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the car.

Dante didn’t argue, which surprised her. He stayed silent, his gaze fixed on her with unnerving intensity. The weight of it made her grip the steering wheel tighter, silently praying he wouldn’t say anything for the rest of the ride.

The drive back to the mansion was quiet, heavy with unspoken tension.

Once they arrived, she slipped out of the car and linked her arm around his waist, placing the other over his shoulder to help him inside. His body leaned heavily against hers, forcing her to bear more of his weight than she could handle.

"If you want to get drunk, do it where I won’t see you or get dragged into it," she snapped, breathless from the effort.

"But why not?" he slurred deliberately, pressing himself against her just a little more. "You’re my wife."

He almost laughed at the way she struggled. In truth, Dante wasn’t as drunk as he appeared. He was tipsy, yes, but perfectly capable of walking on his own. This was just his chance to tease her, to stay close without her pulling away.

She glared at him, muttering curses under her breath as they climbed the stairs. Finally, they reached his room. She pushed his hand onto the door handle. "I’m sure you can take care of yourself from here. Go inside."

"But I need help taking off my shoes," he whined, his tone playfully pathetic. Then he buried his face into her shoulder, his arms sliding around her waist and holding her close. "Please."

Alisha’s jaw tightened.

’My goodness, he’s impossible.’

With a sigh, she opened the door and flicked on the light. The room was dark and brooding, the walls painted black with gray furniture scattered neatly around. Even the bedsheets were a cold shade of grey.

Suppressing her comments, she guided him toward the bed. But her heel caught the edge of the rug. She stumbled backward, falling onto the mattress. Dante fell with her, his weight pressing her down into the sheets.

Her breath hitched as she opened her eyes to find his face inches from hers. Their noses nearly touched, his breath warm against her lips.

"Dante..." she whispered, her words almost trembling.

But before she could finish, he closed the gap, capturing her lips in a soft, deliberate kiss.