Chapter 29
Nina's POV
Dante's gaze stayed locked on the laptop like it was a live grenade. The silence stretched until it hurt.
Then he spoke, voice low and flat. "Take it, Nina."
I didn't move.
He leaned back in his chair, elbows on the arms, fingers steepled. "It's yours. Use it. But understand this—" His eyes flicked to Isabela, then back to me, colder than before.
"Every keystroke. Every search. Every file. Every second you spend on it will be monitored. No privacy. No secrets. You breathe wrong on that thing, I'll know."
My stomach twisted. The silver device suddenly looked like a collar disguised as kindness.
I stared at it, then at him. "So it's not a gift. It's a leash."
His mouth curved, not quite a smile. "Call it what you want. You wanted a way to pretend you're still a student? Here it is. Take it."
My hands stayed in my lap. "I don't want it."
Dante exhaled through his nose. He reached for his wine glass, took a slow sip, eyes never leaving mine. The red liquid stained his lips for a second before he licked it away.
"Fine," he said quietly. "Forget any device then. No laptop. No phone. No tablet. Nothing. You stay exactly as blind and cut off as you've been."
The words landed like a slap.
Heat rushed up my throat. My fingers curled into fists under the table. Enzo's leg pressed against mine warning, comfort, I couldn't tell but I was already shaking.
I lunged forward and snatched the laptop from Isabela's hands. The metal was cool against my palms. I clutched it to my chest like it might burn me.
I didn't say thank you.
I didn't look at her.
Isabela's lips curved into a slow, victorious smirk. She lowered herself back into her seat with the grace of someone who'd just won a war.
"Since we're being generous tonight," she said brightly, reaching into her bag again, "we'll be having a ball in three days. Charity, of course. Very exclusive." She slid a sleek black credit card across the table toward me.
"Make yourself look good. Nana knows what to do the hair, makeup, dress. Don't embarrass us."
My fingers hovered over the card. Shock kept me frozen.
Before I could touch it, Isabela's manicured hand darted out and snatched it back. She twirled it between her fingers like a toy.
"Actually," she purred, "I'll make sure Nina and I have the absolute best. We'll shop together. Won't that be fun?"
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.
"When is the ball?" I asked, voice tight with irritation. "And what is it even for?"
Isabela laughed softly. "It's an auction, darling. You don't need to know the rest of the business. That's for grown-ups."
One of Dante's bodyguards leaned in from the shadows near the doorway. He bent and murmured something low in Dante's ear. I caught fragment of some words like shipment, clean, no heat.
Dante listened, expression unreadable. Then the corner of his mouth lifted in a dark smirk.
"No worries," he said to the room, though his eyes were on me. "The ladies can come."
He took one last bite of whatever was on his plate, set the fork down with deliberate calm, and stood. The men rose with him Nikolai, Enzo, the guards like shadows following their king.
Dante didn't look at me again as he left. The door closed behind them with finality.
The dining room felt smaller without them.
Isabela turned to me, smile syrupy sweet. She lifted her glass of orange juice.
"So sorry," she said, voice dripping mock regret.
Then she tilted the glass.
Bright orange liquid arced through the air and splashed across my chest, soaking the thin tank top instantly. Cold shock stole my breath. The fabric clung to my skin, transparent now, humiliating.
I gasped, hands flying up.
Isabela set the empty glass down with a delicate clink. "Clumsy me."
Rage boiled under my ribs, hot and helpless.
"Clean her up," she told Nana, who had appeared in the doorway, eyes wide with horror. "And let's go shopping. We have appointments."
Nana hurried forward with napkins, but Isabela was already standing, smoothing her dress.
I pushed to my feet, juice dripping down my stomach. My hands shook as I wiped at the mess.
Isabela stepped closer too close. As I bent to grab more napkins from the table, she casually extended one stiletto-clad foot.
My bare shin caught the sharp edge of the table corner.
Pain exploded across my mouth. I tasted copper. My lip split open, blood welling fast.
I staggered, hand flying to my face.
Isabela didn't even flinch. She picked up the black card from the table, tucked it into her clutch.
"That's the least you can pay," she said softly, "for receiving the laptop."
Then she turned on her heel and walked out, hips swaying like she owned the whole damn house.
Nana was there in an instant, gentle hands on my arms, guiding me upright.
"Mija, Dios mío," she whispered, pressing a clean cloth to my lip. "Come, let's get you cleaned."
I let her lead me toward the stairs. Blood dripped onto my chin, warm and sticky.
"It's fine," I muttered through the sting. "I'll go shower. And… I'll go shopping with her."
Nana stopped. "Nina, you don't have to if you don't want to"
"I want to," I said, sharper than I meant. "It's the first time I'll be outside these walls. Even if it's with her. Even if it's a cage with better lighting. I need air. I need to breathe something that isn't this house and these men brooding over me."
She searched my face, then nodded slowly. "Okay. But I come too. She doesn't get you alone."
I gave her a small, bloody smile. "Deal."
I climbed the stairs, laptop still clutched against my wet chest like armor. The split in my lip throbbed with every heartbeat. I could feel the bruise already forming.
At the top landing, I took a sharp turn toward my room.
My chest slammed straight into a hard wall of muscle.
Dante.
He'd come back and alone.
I stumbled, but his hands shot out, catching my upper arms to steady me.
His eyes dropped to my mouth.
The split lip. The blood. The swelling starting under the skin.
Something flickered across his face, something raw, unguarded, gone in a blink.
He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, exhaling hard like he was fighting himself.
Then his gaze locked on my lips again.
Before I could pull away, before I could even breathe, he leaned in.
His mouth closed over mine.
Not gentle. Not soft.
He sucked the blood from the cut so slow, deliberate, tasting the copper like it belonged to him.
A gasp tore out of my throat, sharp and involuntary.
My hands fisted in his shirt, unsure whether to shove or cling.
He pulled back just enough to look at me eyes dark, pupils blown, something dangerous and hungry burning behind them.
I stood there, lips tingling, blood smeared between us, heart hammering so loud I thought it might break my ribs.
He didn't say a word.
He just stared at my mouth one last time, like he was memorizing the damage.
Then he released me and walked away.
Leaving me bleeding, shaking, and more confused than I'd ever been.