Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
"Now they know," Dario murmured against my ear, his breath warm on my skin.
"Know what?" I asked, still dazed from the kiss and the public spectacle we'd created.
"That I would burn this city to the ground for you."
The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. Not fear, but the sobering realization of the power this man wielded and what it meant that he had chosen me.
"Well, isn't this touching."
The honeyed voice sliced through our moment like a blade. I didn't need to turn to know who stood behind me. The hair on the back of my neck rose in instinctive warning. Dario's expression hardened, his arm tightening around my waist as we both turned to face Valentina Reeves.
She looked stunning, of course. Her honey-blonde hair was styled in an elegant twist that emphasized her sharp cheekbones. Diamonds dripped from her ears and throat, catching the light with every slight movement. Her dress was blood red, clinging to her curves like it had been painted on. But the look in her eyes chilled me more than anything else. A cold, calculating, hatred simmered just beneath a veneer of social polish.
"Valentina," Dario acknowledged, his tone flat. "You weren't invited."
Her smile was all teeth. "Come now, Dario. Christmas is for family, isn't it? And we were practically that." Her gaze shifted to me, traveling from my face down to my shoes and back up in a deliberate assessment. "How adorable. Playing dress up in Dario's world. The clothes may be designer, darling, but they can't hide what you really are."
I felt Dario tense beside me, ready to intervene, but I placed a restraining hand on his arm. Three months ago, I would have shrunk from this confrontation. Tonight, I met her eyes steadily.
"And what am I exactly, Valentina?" My voice came out calm, even curious.
"A novelty," she replied, venom dripping from every syllable. "A little pet project he'll tire of once the shine wears off. Men like Dario always come back to women like me. We understand their world because we were born to it. You're just temporary entertainment, a working class curiosity he's indulging until reality sets in."
"You're embarrassing yourself," Dario cut in, his voice deadly quiet. "Leave. Now."
Valentina's perfect features twisted. "You replaced me with a fucking bartender." She spat the last word like it was filth in her mouth. "Does she even know what you are? What you've done? Or have you been playing house, pretending you're not a—"
"Enough," I interrupted, surprising myself with my steadiness. "Dario didn't replace you with me, Valentina. He chose me. There's a difference." I smiled, almost pitying her now. "And yes, I know exactly who he is. All of him. That's why I'm here, and you're not."
Something snapped behind her eyes. That last thread of restraint giving way to pure hatred. Her hand moved so quickly I barely registered it, a flash of silver appearing between her manicured fingers. "You stupid little bitch," she hissed, lunging toward me.
Everything happened in fragments of seconds. Dario shoving me behind him. The blade arcing through the air. Dario's hand coming up, catching Valentina's wrist but not before the knife sliced across his palm. Bright red blood dripped onto the white, polished marble floor.
I cried out, but the sound was lost in the sudden chaos. Security materialized from every corner. Marcus reached us first, his normally impassive face tight with controlled rage. Two more guards seized Valentina, who thrashed against their grip, her perfect coiffure coming undone as she struggled.
"You're dead!" she shrieked, her voice unrecognizable from the cultured tones of moments before. "Do you hear me? Dead! He can't protect you forever!"
They dragged her toward the exit, her threats echoing off the vaulted ceilings. I turned to Dario, my hands shaking as I reached for his injured one. Blood welled from a deep cut across his palm, dripping between his fingers.
"You're hurt," I said stupidly, panic rising in my throat.
Dario's expression was terrifyingly calm, his eyes following Valentina's struggling form. "It's nothing," he said, though the blood soaking into his white cuff suggested otherwise. "Are you alright?"
I nodded, unable to form words, my heart still racing from the suddenness of the attack. A white cloth appeared as Marcus offered a handkerchief. Dario wrapped it around his palm, the fabric immediately blooming with red.
The most unsettling part came next. Within seconds the party resumed as if nothing happened. Staff appeared to clean the blood from the floor. Glasses clinked, conversation flowed, music played. The only evidence of the violence was the white cloth around Dario's hand and the lingering adrenaline making my legs unsteady beneath me.
"How are they all just... continuing?" I whispered, stunned by the collective pretense that everything was normal.
Dario's uninjured hand found the small of my back, steadying me. "Because this is my world, Belle. My family controls what happens here. If we say nothing happened, then nothing happened."