Velvet Shadows

II

Angel stirred, her eyelids heavy and her body feeling unusually lethargic. The soft glow of morning filtered through sheer curtains, bathing the luxurious hotel room in a golden hue.

She blinked, trying to piece together the fragments of her memory. Her last clear recollection was of the exclusive Eleven Club, the flashing lights, the drink... and then nothing.

Now, she found herself in a king-sized bed, draped in a man's dress shirt that was far too large for her.

She turned her head slowly, her gaze landing on Dante, who was seated in an armchair nearby, sipping a glass of whiskey.

His dark blue eyes glinted in the dim light, and his silver hair framed his rugged features. His muscular chest was bare, the light casting shadows across his defined abs and broad shoulders.

Relief washed over his face when he saw her awake.

"Good morning," he said softly, setting his glass down and rising to his feet. He walked over to the closet, pulling out a black shirt and slipping it on as he approached the bed.

"Where am I?" she asked, her voice raspy.

"The Faena Hotel," he replied, buttoning the shirt. "You passed out at the club last night. I had to get you out of there."

Angel's eyes widened as she tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she fell back onto the pillows. "Why... why am I wearing your shirt? What happened to my clothes?"

Dante hesitated, his expression conflicted. "Your clothes were soaked in sweat. You were in bad shape, Angel. I helped you shower and changed you into my shirt so you'd be more comfortable."

Her face flushed with embarrassment and confusion. She clutched the fabric of the shirt, pulling it closer around her. "Did we... did anything happen between us?"

"No," Dante answered firmly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I slept on the couch. I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

Angel nodded slowly, processing his words. She tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed, but her head spun, and she collapsed back against the pillows.

"You need to rest," Dante insisted, gently guiding her back to the center of the bed. "I'll order breakfast for us."

"But I have to go to work," she protested weakly. "The real estate office... and my paralegal job..."

"You can't go anywhere in your condition," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll take care of everything. Just stay here and rest."

He picked up the room phone and placed an order for breakfast. Moments later, a hotel staff member delivered a tray laden with a variety of breakfast items. Dante helped Angel sit up, propping pillows behind her back, and then handed her a glass of orange juice.

"Drink this," he instructed. "It'll help with the dizziness."

She took a sip, her hands trembling. He sat beside her, cutting up some fruit and offering it to her. "Here, try to eat something."

Angel accepted the fruit, their fingers brushing. The contact sent a shiver down her spine. She could see the worry in his eyes, the turmoil he was trying to hide. Despite the circumstances, she couldn't deny the attraction she felt for him, nor the gratitude for his care.

"Why are you doing this for me?" she asked quietly, taking another bite of fruit.

Dante sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because I care about you, Angel. I couldn't just leave you there. Someone wanted to hurt you, and I couldn't let that happen."

Tears welled up in her eyes as the reality of the situation hit her. "You saved me from being raped... or worse."

He reached out, taking her hand in his. "I couldn't let anything happen to you."

They sat in silence for a moment, the gravity of the previous night sinking in. Angel squeezed his hand, finding comfort in his presence.

"Do you remember anything about who it could have been?" Dante asked eventually.

She shook her head. "It was all a blur. But it was a man... I'm sure of that."

Dante nodded, his jaw tightening. "I saw someone hand you a drink, but I couldn't make out who it was. The cameras in the club haven't worked for the past month, according to the manager. It's bad timing for everything."

Angel frowned. "Do you think more people were involved? Maybe it was jealousy, or... or something worse?"

"It could be anything," Dante admitted. "Jealousy, a need for control, or even a personal vendetta. We need to be careful. Until we know more, you need to stay safe."

She nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "But why me? What did I do to deserve this?"

Dante's expression softened. "Sometimes people don't need a reason to do terrible things. But we'll figure this out. I'll protect you, Angel. I promise."

She leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "Thank you, Dante."

Suddenly, Angel's chest tightened, and her breathing became rapid and shallow. Her eyes darted around the room, and she felt a surge of panic wash over her. "I... I can't breathe," she gasped, clutching at her throat.

Dante immediately recognized the signs of an anxiety attack. He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Angel, listen to me. You're okay. Just breathe with me, slowly. In and out."

She tried to match his breathing, her eyes wide with fear. Dante continued to speak softly, his voice a soothing anchor in the storm of her panic. "Focus on my voice. You're safe here. I'm right here with you."

Gradually, her breathing began to slow, and the tightness in her chest eased. She clung to Dante, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry... I just... I couldn't control it."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he said gently, stroking her hair. "You've been through a lot. It's natural to feel overwhelmed."

She nodded, taking deep, steady breaths. Dante held her close, his presence a comforting shield against the lingering fear. They sat in silence for a while, the tension slowly ebbing away.

As she calmed down, Dante helped her back to bed. "You need to rest, Angel. We'll figure everything out together."

She closed her eyes, exhaustion finally taking over. "Okay," she whispered, drifting off to sleep.

Dante watched over her, his mind racing with thoughts of the previous night.

When she woke up again, he was back in the armchair, the glass of whiskey in his hand. Her voice was softer this time, filled with uncertainty. "Dante, if we ever did... you know... I think I'd regret it."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing. "You would. I'm twice your age, Angel. It wouldn't be right. You deserve someone better, someone who can give you what you need."

She reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand. "But I don't want anyone else."

Dante took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Let's not think about that now. We need to focus on keeping you safe."

Tears welled up in her eyes again as she remembered the events of the previous night. "Thank you for saving me, Dante."

He nodded, pulling her closer. "I'll always be here for you, Angel. No matter what."

As she looked up at him, he gently moved a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. The simple gesture sent a warmth through her, a silent promise of protection and care.