~10~

dante's pov ~

She's still in the bedroom when I knock once and step in.

She doesn't look up.

"We leave in forty-five."

"For what?" she asks, scrolling on her phone.

"Dinner. Private. People who matter will be there."

She finally glances at me. "You could've mentioned it earlier."

"I just did."

She doesn't argue. Doesn't say anything at all. Just stands, cool and quiet, and walks into the bathroom.

I leave her to it.

She comes out almost exactly thirty minutes later.

For fuck's sake

 for a second, I forget how to think.

The black dress is sharp. Long slit. Red lips. Hair smooth and soft. She's tall in heels, spine straight, eyes unreadable.

She doesn't speak.

She doesn't need to.

She looks like she belongs at my side—and she knows it.

if i didn't hate her, i would bend her over and fuck her right here

I look her over once, slow and deliberate, then nod.

"Let's go."

That's all she gets.

Not because she isn't stunning—but because I can't afford to say what I'm actually thinking.

The restaurant is high-end, quiet, ours. Closed to the public. Every booth holds someone dangerous in a suit.

I chose a private table near the back.

Just me and Carmela.

Let them all watch from a distance.

We sit. A server brings whiskey for me, water for her. I didn't ask. I didn't need to.

She settles into the seat across from me, graceful and silent. Not nervous. Just alert.

Good.

She's learning how to read the room.

We eat in silence at first.

She takes her time, elegant with every move. She's been trained for this.

"You've done these before," I say finally.

She glances up. "My father used to host dinners like this. Different accents, same tension."

"Different stakes."

She nods. "True."

Another silence.

Then she says, "Why are we sitting alone?"

"Because I don't need anyone else in our business."

She takes a slow sip of her water. "So this is business."

"Everything is."

Her mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. "You should put that on your wedding ring."

I don't rise to it. "Maybe I will."

Halfway through the meal, she finally says it.

"That kiss. Are we just going to pretend it didn't happen?"

I meet her eyes.

Calm. Even.

"We can pretend. Or we can forget."

She raises a brow. "Is that the same thing?"

"It is tonight."

She looks at me for a long second. Then nods.

"All right."

We finish dinner quietly.

When we leave, I help her with her coat. Not because I want to. Because it's expected.

She doesn't thank me. She doesn't need to.

We ride back in silence. Her eyes on the window. Mine on the road.

Everything tight. Controlled. Professional.

Just the way it has to be.

For now.

*****

A/N

oh how i love when dante curses, the next update is on wednesday!