Alessia
The evening air outside Inferno is filled with heat and the lingering scent of smoke and expensive cologne. The neon glow of the club casts deep shadows across the pavement, but none feel as heavy as the man standing in front of me. Dante is watching me, like he's trying to figure something out. Like he knows something.
I don't move. I don't flinch. But inside, a slow, creeping irritation spreads through my veins. Does he know? Did he recognize me? The weight of his gaze feels like a test, and I force my expression into something neutral. Unbothered and Professional.
"Can I help you with something, sir?" My voice is smooth, careful, respectful even.
Dante doesn't answer right away. He just keeps staring, his dark eyes sharp, assessing. Then he said something I hated to hear.
"I like you."
I blink. Of all the things I expected him to say, that was not one of them.
I school my face into polite indifference. "That's nice, sir."
His lips curve slightly, amused. "Is it?"
I nod once. "It's always good to be liked."
Dante takes a step closer, his presence covering my space, annoying and suffocating.
"Tell me, Leona…" His voice drops an octave, smooth as silk but sharp as a blade. "How much?"
A sign of confusion passes through me. "How much… what?"
His smirk widens, lazy and arrogant. "For a night."
I go completely still. Did I hear him correctly?
My fingers twitch at my sides, but I keep my expression composed. "I don't understand, sir."
Dante chuckles, shaking his head. "Come on, don't play dumb. Name your price."
The irritation curling in my chest hardens. But I don't snap at him yet. I keep my voice steady, my posture professional.
"I think you have the wrong impression of me, sir."
Dante tilts his head slightly, studying me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve.
"Do I?"
There's something mocking in his tone, and it ignites something cold and sharp inside me.
I straighten my spine, keeping my face unreadable. "I'm a bartender, not an escort."
His smirk deepens. "So? Everyone has a price."
A slow, heavy silence settles between us. Then he says it.
"Two million dollars."
I blink again. My fingers curl into fists. Not because I'm tempted. Not because I'm even slightly considering it. But because the arrogance. The absolute, unbelievable audacity of this man. Dante watches me, clearly expecting a reaction. A gasp, a falter. Maybe even a sign of interest. But he gets none of it.
I raise an eyebrow instead. "Two million?"
He nods. "One night. No strings. Just you and me."
Then, as if that wasn't enough, he adds, "My bed game is close to none. You can ask around."
A laugh bursts from me before I can stop it. Cold, cruel, disbelieving.
"You actually think I'd consider that?" I shake my head, letting out a breathless, bitter chuckle. "That has to be the saddest thing I've ever heard."
Dante's expression remains composed, but there's a sign of something in his gaze. Amusement? Annoyance? I could care less.
I take a step forward, tilting my head slightly. "Let me get this straight, you think you can throw money at me and I'll just drop my clothes?" My smile doesn't reach my eyes. "How pathetic."
His jaw twitches just slightly. I press on.
"You're right, though," I say lightly. "I could ask around. Maybe I'd find women who think it was the best night of their lives."
I take another step forward, lowering my voice mockingly.
"But here's the thing, sir." I make sure the last word drips with sarcasm. "I wouldn't sleep with you if you offered me every last cent in your empire."
Dante's smirk falters, just for a fraction of a second. I didn't stop.
"If I ever do touch you," I whisper, leaning in just slightly, "it won't be in a bed, it'll be with a knife in your throat." I said with all the pain and hatred in my heart.
The air between us tightens, heavy and charged. For the first time since this conversation started, Dante says nothing. He just watches me, dark eyes unreadable.
Then, a sharp voice comes through the tension.
"Leona! Get back inside, now!"
I turn my head to see Elena standing in the doorway, her expression charged. Something must be happening inside. I don't hesitate. I step back from Dante, keeping my gaze locked onto his. Then, without another word, I turn on my heel and walk away.
Even as I push through the doors of Inferno, I can still feel his gaze burning into my back. And that infuriating smirk? I can still feel it.