The monster's touch wasn't what I expected.
It didn't hurt. It felt... real. Solid. It was the only real thing in a world that had just broken apart. I was still on the floor, my hands pressed against the rug. My breathing was still shaky and fast. The panic attack was over, but I could still feel the cold fear on my skin.
Dante was kneeling in front of me. His big hands were still on my shoulders, holding me steady.
"Better?" he asked. His voice was low and calm, without any pity. He was just checking on me.
I could only nod. I didn't trust my voice.
He moved then. His hands slid from my shoulders down my arms. I flinched, but his grip was gentle. Where his fingers touched my skin, a hot shock went through me.
"Up," he said, his voice soft.
He stood up, pulling me with him easily. My legs were weak and I stumbled, falling against his chest. His arms came around me to steady me, his hands firm against my back.
For one second, my world stopped. My face was pressed against his hard body. I could feel his muscles under the expensive suit. I could smell him, sandalwood and something spicy, something dangerous. My hands were flat against his stomach, gripping his suit jacket.
It was in that exact moment, with his arms around me, holding me up, that the dining room doors flew open.
My father stormed in. He looked like a storm in his expensive suit. His angry eyes scanned the room and landed on us. He didn't see a bodyguard helping his daughter stand. He saw a man's arms around me.
"What do you think you're doing?" my father's voice was a low, dangerous growl. He was talking to Dante.
Dante immediately let go of me. I almost fell, but I caught my balance. He took a step back, creating distance between us. His face showed nothing. "Your daughter was unwell, sir.
"I don't pay you to play doctor."
It was so unfair. The way he looked at Dante… like he owned me. A spark of anger went through me. For the first time, I talked back.
"Father, stop."
His head turned to me. He looked shocked that I would dare.
"He was helping me," I said. My voice was stronger now. "That photo… I… I couldn't breathe. He helped me."
My father looked at me for a second. His face softened just a little. But when he looked back at Dante, it was hard as stone again. He ignored what I said.
"Your job is to take a bullet for her," he growled. "Not to hold her hand. Remember that. Stay away from my daughter."
"Understood," Dante said. His voice was flat. Empty.
My father walked back and forth, like a tiger in a cage. Then he stopped and pointed at me.
"Pack a bag," he ordered. "Just what you need. You're going to the lake house. Now."
My heart dropped. The lake house. It was beautiful, but it was in the middle of nowhere. A prison with a great view.
"No one knows about that place," my father said. His mind was already working, planning his next move. "You'll be safer there until I handle this."
He turned and walked out, already shouting orders into his phone. He was the boss, the Don, handling a problem. He wasn't my father in that moment.
The room was silent again.
My eyes found Dante's.
Safer?
My father wasn't sending me to a safe house.
He was locking me in a new cage. A cage in the middle of nowhere, with the one man who terrified me and fascinated me at the same time.
The man who just saved me.
He was my protector. He was my guard.
But as we locked eyes across the silent room, I knew I wasn't just his assignment. I was his prisoner.
And I had no idea who Dante Volkov really was.