Chapter Nine
The elevator ride down from the executive floor was silent.
Not the comfortable kind of silence.
The kind that buzzed with tension.
Camille stood beside Dante, arms folded lightly across her chest, staring straight ahead at the mirrored walls. But she could feel his gaze every few seconds.
Heavy.
Assessing.
Almost predatory.
It was starting to irritate her.
Finally she turned her head slightly.
"If you keep staring at me like that, the mirrors might crack."
Dante didn't look away.
"You're confident for someone who just interfered in my meeting."
Camille scoffed.
"I saved your meeting."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"That investor is known for being difficult."
"And he left convinced," she replied smoothly.
Dante studied her face for a moment longer before a small, reluctant smile appeared.
"You enjoy being right."
Camille lifted one shoulder casually.
"I enjoy not being underestimated."
The elevator doors opened.
They stepped into the lobby together.
Employees immediately moved aside when they saw Dante, but Camille noticed something else.
The way people looked at them.
At her.
Curious.
Judging.
Whispering.
The sudden attention made her spine stiffen, but she kept walking like she owned the place.
Just as they reached the glass entrance, a voice called out.
"Dante."
Both of them turned.
A tall man in a navy suit approached confidently. Early thirties, attractive, with an easy smile that suggested he was used to getting attention.
Dante's expression shifted into polite neutrality.
"Adrian."
The two men shook hands.
Camille watched carefully.
Something about the way Dante's shoulders tightened told her this man wasn't just another business acquaintance.
Adrian's gaze shifted to her.
Then his smile widened.
"Well," he said, clearly amused. "So the rumors are true."
Camille raised an eyebrow.
"What rumors?"
"That Dante finally got married."
His eyes moved over her face with open admiration.
"And I have to say, he definitely didn't choose badly."
Dante's jaw tightened slightly.
Camille noticed.
Interesting.
She extended her hand politely.
"Camille."
Adrian took it.
But instead of a quick handshake, he held it a second longer than necessary.
His thumb brushed lightly against her knuckles.
Dante noticed immediately.
So did Camille.
Adrian smiled again.
"I'm Adrian Blake. Old friend of Dante's."
Camille tilted her head slightly.
"Old friend?"
Adrian laughed.
"That's a generous description. We've been rivals longer than we've been friends."
Dante's voice cut in.
"Adrian runs Blake Industries."
Camille recognized the name instantly.
Another powerful business empire.
Adrian looked amused.
"Relax, Dante. I'm not here to steal your wife."
His gaze returned to Camille.
"Although I have to admit, I understand why you married her."
Camille felt the air shift beside her.
Dante didn't move.
But the temperature around him dropped several degrees.
Adrian clearly noticed too.
Which made him smile wider.
Camille crossed her arms.
"And why exactly would you understand?"
Adrian stepped slightly closer.
"You're beautiful, confident, and clearly not afraid of him."
His voice lowered playfully.
"That's rare."
Camille opened her mouth to reply.
But Dante spoke first.
His tone calm.
Too calm.
"Adrian."
Just his name.
Nothing else.
Yet it sounded like a warning.
Adrian sighed dramatically.
"Alright, alright."
He stepped back with a grin.
"Relax. I'm just being friendly."
Camille glanced at Dante.
His face was unreadable.
But she could see it in his eyes.
That dark intensity again.
Jealousy.
A slow, dangerous kind.
And suddenly Camille felt mischievous.
Very mischievous.
She turned back to Adrian.
"So tell me," she said casually, "what exactly makes you and Dante rivals?"
Adrian chuckled.
"Business mostly."
He leaned slightly closer.
"And occasionally women."
Dante's expression hardened.
Camille pretended not to notice.
"And which one of you usually wins?"
Adrian's grin widened.
"I like to think it's a tie."
Dante stepped forward then.
Not aggressively.
Just enough to place himself slightly between them.
His voice was smooth.
"But today isn't one of those days."
Adrian raised both hands in surrender.
"Relax, Moretti."
Then he winked at Camille.
"Nice meeting you."
And just like that, he walked away.
Camille watched him go.
Then she turned slowly toward Dante.
His gaze was locked on her.
Dark.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
"Well," she said lightly, "he seems nice."
Dante didn't answer immediately.
Instead he grabbed her wrist suddenly.
Not painfully.
But firmly.
Before she could react, he pulled her toward the car waiting outside.
"Hey," she protested. "What are you doing?"
He opened the car door and guided her inside.
Then he got in beside her.
The driver started moving instantly.
The moment the divider between them and the driver went up, Camille turned toward him.
"What was that about?"
Dante leaned back slightly.
His jaw tight.
"Don't flirt with him again."
Camille blinked.
Then she laughed.
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
She stared at him.
"You don't get to tell me who I talk to."
His eyes flashed.
"And you don't get to provoke my rivals for entertainment."
Her eyebrows lifted.
"So you were jealous."
Dante's expression went cold.
"I don't get jealous."
Camille leaned closer slowly.
A teasing smile playing on her lips.
"You grabbed my wrist."
Silence.
"You dragged me to the car."
More silence.
Her voice softened slightly.
"And you're still angry."
Dante turned his head toward her slowly.
Their faces were suddenly very close.
Too close.
His voice dropped.
"Careful, Camille."
Her pulse jumped.
"Why?"
His eyes moved to her lips briefly.
Then back to her eyes.
"Because you're starting to enjoy pushing me."
Her smile widened.
"And you're starting to enjoy it too."
For a moment neither of them moved.
The tension in the car became thick.
Heavy.
Electric.
Then Dante reached out suddenly.
His hand wrapped around the back of her neck.
Not rough.
But firm enough to stop her from leaning away.
Camille's breath caught.
His voice dropped to a dark whisper.
"You have no idea what you're playing with."
Her heart pounded violently.
But she refused to break eye contact.
"Then show me."
For one dangerous second, it looked like Dante might actually kiss her.
The distance between their mouths was barely an inch.
Camille could feel his breath.
Feel the heat of his body.
Feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter.
Then Dante suddenly released her.
Leaning back like nothing happened.
His voice calm again.
"Driver."
"Yes, sir."
"Take us home."
Camille stared at him.
Her heart still racing.
He had almost kissed her.
Almost.
And the worst part?
She realized something terrifying.
She had wanted him to.
Very badly.