Chapter Eight
Camille woke before sunrise.
For a moment she didn't know where she was. The ceiling above her was too high, the room too large, the silence too heavy.
Then she remembered.
Dante's mansion.
Her new life.
Her contract marriage.
The memory settled in her chest like a stone.
She sat up slowly, pushing her hair away from her face. The silk sheets slid down her shoulders, cool against her skin. Outside the massive windows, the city was just beginning to wake.
But inside this house, it already felt like a battlefield.
Her mind drifted to last night.
Dante standing too close.
His voice dropping lower every time he spoke to her.
The way his eyes looked at her like she was both a problem and a temptation.
Camille groaned softly and dragged a hand over her face.
Why did he have to look like that?
Why did he have to talk like that?
Why did her body react every time he got close?
Annoyed with herself, she pushed out of bed and walked to the wardrobe.
She chose a fitted black dress that hugged her waist and stopped just above her knees. Elegant. Simple. Dangerous.
If Dante thought he could intimidate her, he was about to learn otherwise.
When Camille stepped into the hallway, the mansion was quiet except for distant footsteps from the staff.
She walked toward the dining room.
The moment she stepped inside, she stopped.
Dante was already there.
Of course he was.
He sat at the head of the long table, dressed in a dark suit that looked like it cost more than some people's cars. One hand rested lazily on the table while the other held a cup of coffee.
He looked completely relaxed.
Completely in control.
And completely aware of her.
His eyes lifted slowly.
They moved over her body in a calm, deliberate way that made heat crawl up her spine.
Not rushed.
Not shy.
Just confident.
Camille raised an eyebrow.
"Good morning," she said coolly as she walked toward the table.
Dante leaned back slightly in his chair.
"You're late."
She glanced at the clock.
Seven in the morning.
Camille scoffed.
"If seven is late, you need therapy."
One corner of Dante's mouth lifted.
Interesting.
He liked her attitude.
That alone made Camille suspicious.
She sat across from him.
A maid immediately placed breakfast in front of her.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
The tension between them wasn't loud.
It was worse.
Quiet.
Thick.
Dangerous.
Finally Dante set his coffee down.
"You have a meeting with me today."
Camille looked up.
"With you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Dante's eyes flickered with amusement.
"You're my wife."
"Contract wife."
"That doesn't change the headlines."
Camille sighed and took a bite of toast.
"So what is this meeting about?"
Dante leaned forward slightly.
"Investors."
She blinked.
"You want me to sit in a business meeting?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
His gaze sharpened.
"To see if you can keep up."
Camille slowly set her fork down.
Something about the way he said that felt like a challenge.
Her eyes narrowed.
"You think I can't?"
Dante didn't answer immediately.
Instead he studied her face.
The confidence.
The stubborn pride.
The fire.
Then he said quietly, "I think you enjoy proving people wrong."
Camille leaned back in her chair.
"And if I do?"
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes.
"Then today should be entertaining."
Her pulse jumped.
She hated how easily he did that.
How he could say one sentence and make the air between them feel heavier.
Camille pushed her chair back and stood.
"Fine."
Dante looked up at her.
She crossed her arms.
"Let's see if the devil heir can survive working with me."
A slow smile appeared on Dante's face.
"You really don't know when to stop, do you?"
Camille leaned down slightly toward him.
Their faces were suddenly much closer than before.
Her voice dropped.
"Neither do you."
For a brief moment, neither of them moved.
The tension snapped tight.
Dante's eyes darkened.
Camille felt it instantly.
That shift.
That dangerous spark.
He stood.
Slowly.
Now he was towering over her.
Too close.
Much too close.
Her heart started beating harder, but she refused to step back.
Dante's voice lowered.
"You should be careful, Camille."
She tilted her head.
"Why?"
"Because one day you might push me too far."
Her lips curved slightly.
"And what happens if I do?"
Dante leaned closer.
His voice brushed against her ear.
"Then you'll discover why most people don't dare challenge me."
Her breath caught.
Damn him.
Damn his voice.
Damn the way her body reacted to him.
Camille forced herself to step away.
"Good," she said coolly.
"I was getting bored anyway."
Dante watched her walk away from the dining room.
His gaze dropped briefly to the movement of her hips.
Then he exhaled slowly.
Dangerous woman.
Very dangerous.
And she had no idea how close she was to losing control of the situation.
Or maybe she did.
Two hours later they arrived at Moretti Tower.
The building dominated the skyline.
Glass. Steel. Power.
The moment they walked inside, every employee straightened.
People greeted Dante with immediate respect.
But Camille noticed something else.
Fear.
Real fear.
They were scared of him.
Interesting.
As they stepped into the elevator, Dante pressed the button for the top floor.
Silence filled the space again.
Camille turned slightly toward him.
"You terrify your employees."
"They respect me."
"They look like they're about to faint."
Dante shrugged.
"Efficiency."
Camille rolled her eyes.
"Remind me never to work for you."
Dante's gaze slid toward her slowly.
"You already do."
Her stomach flipped.
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened to a massive executive floor.
Glass walls.
A long conference table.
Several men and women already seated.
All powerful investors.
All watching the moment Dante walked in with Camille beside him.
Whispers spread instantly.
Dante didn't acknowledge them.
He simply pulled out a chair for Camille.
"Sit."
She did.
The meeting started immediately.
For the next forty minutes, numbers, strategies, and negotiations filled the room.
At first Camille listened quietly.
Then one of the investors spoke.
"I'm not convinced this expansion plan is realistic."
Dante was about to respond.
But Camille spoke first.
Calm.
Sharp.
Direct.
"You're looking at the short term."
The entire room turned to her.
Camille continued.
"If the market grows the way the projections show, waiting will cost more money than acting now."
The investor frowned.
"And you know this how?"
Camille met his gaze steadily.
"Because unlike you, I studied the full report before coming here."
Silence fell across the table.
Dante slowly leaned back in his chair.
Watching her.
A small smile tugged at his mouth.
She really did enjoy proving people wrong.
By the end of the meeting, the investors were nodding.
Agreeing.
Even impressed.
As the room emptied, Camille gathered her notes.
She looked up to find Dante staring at her.
"What?"
He stepped closer.
"You did well."
She shrugged.
"I know."
His smile widened slightly.
"Confident."
"Accurate."
For a moment they simply looked at each other.
Then Dante reached out suddenly.
His fingers caught a strand of her hair.
He tucked it behind her ear slowly.
The movement was gentle.
Unexpectedly gentle.
Camille froze.
Her heart slammed hard against her ribs.
His hand lingered for half a second longer than necessary.
Then he stepped back.
His voice lowered.
"You're more dangerous than I expected."
Camille swallowed.
"And you're more annoying than I expected."
Dante laughed quietly.
But his eyes stayed dark.
Focused.
Hungry.
The game between them was changing.
And both of them could feel it.