Rain poured steadily against the penthouse windows while the city lights blurred beautifully beneath the storm.
The entire place felt warm. Quiet. Safe.
Camille stood barefoot near the balcony doors still wrapped in Dante's black shirt while soft music played faintly somewhere in the background.
She loved nights like this now.
Simple nights.
No chaos. No cameras. No pretending.
Just them.
Dante loosened the sleeves of his dark shirt while watching her from across the room with that same dangerous calm look he always wore around her lately.
Like she distracted him naturally.
Camille caught him staring again and smiled softly.
"You do realize you're staring."
"I know."
"No shame?"
"None."
She laughed quietly.
God.
Who would've thought the terrifying Dante Moretti could become this openly affectionate?
Not the media. Not the business world.
Only Camille got this version of him.
The softer one hidden beneath all the coldness.
