Deceptive Hearts

23

The next morning, Alora woke with a heavy feeling in her chest. The sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Dante lay beside her, still asleep, his arm draped over her possessively, even in slumber.

I need to breathe, she thought.

Slowly, she slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and padded quietly to the window. Looking out over the Santoro estate, her mind buzzed with thoughts of last night. The conversation she overheard between Dante and Luca echoed in her mind, the parts of the Italian conversation she managed to understand piecing together into a dangerous puzzle. They were worried about her being in danger. And now, she was engaged to Dante. How could she still complete her mission?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she quickly glanced back at Dante to make sure he was still asleep before grabbing it. A message from Eyra lit up the screen:

“Stick to the plan. Don’t mess this up.”

Alora stared at the message, her throat tightening. She was walking a razor-thin line between love and duty, and each step felt more precarious than the last.

She typed back quickly: “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Eyra’s response was immediate: “You don’t have a choice. Remember what’s at stake.”

Alora’s stomach churned. She knew exactly what was at stake—her sister’s life, her freedom, and the only chance she had to escape this dangerous world. But as she glanced back at Dante, who shifted slightly in his sleep, she couldn’t help but feel a deep ache in her chest. She was falling for him, despite every warning she’d given herself.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Alora quickly shoved her phone back into her pocket as Dante stirred awake. He blinked sleepily before sitting up, his eyes immediately finding hers.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

“Morning,” she replied, forcing a smile.

Before Dante could say anything else, the door creaked open, and his mother, Mrs. Santoro, poked her head in. “Dante, caro, your father wants to see you in his office,” she said softly.

Dante sighed, rubbing his eyes before nodding. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mrs. Santoro turned to Alora, a warm smile on her face. “And Alora, I thought it would be nice to take you out today, dear. Just the girls. You’ve had a lot on your plate, and I think you could use a day to relax.”

Alora’s heart skipped a beat. A day to relax? The last thing she needed right now was to be separated from Dante, especially with everything spinning out of control in her mind. But she nodded politely. “That sounds nice.”

As Mrs. Santoro left, Dante stood from the bed, pulling Alora close before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll catch up with you later,” he whispered, his grip tightening around her waist. “Don’t stray too far.”

“I won’t,” Alora replied, her voice strained.

---

Dante walked through the grand halls of the Santoro estate, his mind heavy with thoughts of his conversation with his father the night before. Sylvester was hiding something, and Dante was determined to find out what it was. The more he thought about it, the more the pieces didn’t fit. Alora was a mystery—one he was desperate to solve.

When he entered his father’s office, Sylvester was seated behind his desk, his expression unreadable as always.

“You wanted to see me?” Dante asked, his voice tense.