CHAPTER TWO

Alina stared at the closed door long after Dante had disappeared into the night. His words echoed in her mind, a haunting melody she couldn't silence. Sooner or later, you'll come to me.

She scoffed under her breath. Arrogant bastard.

Yet, as much as she wanted to dismiss him, a shiver ran down her spine—a mixture of fear and something far more dangerous: intrigue.

The distant hum of an engine pulling into the driveway snapped her back to reality. She recognized the sound instantly. Her father was home.

Alina hurried to the window, peering through the heavy curtains. Viktor Voss stepped out of his car, his face hard and unreadable. The bodyguard beside him, a towering figure named Anton, whispered something in his ear. Viktor's scowl deepened.

Trouble.

Minutes later, he stormed into the study, his sharp eyes locking onto her immediately. "What did he want?"

Alina blinked, feigning innocence. "Who?"

"Don't play games with me, Alina," Viktor growled, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Dante Corvin. What did he want?"

"To remind us that you owe him," she replied coolly. "And to make it clear that he doesn't plan on waiting much longer."

Viktor's jaw clenched. "I'll handle it."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Like you've handled everything else? One day your debts will swallow us whole."

Her father slammed the glass onto the desk, making her flinch. "Watch your mouth."

Alina knew better than to push him when he was like this, but the words tumbled out anyway. "Maybe if you hadn't dragged me into your mess, I wouldn't have to."

Before Viktor could respond, Anton stepped forward. "Sir, we have another problem."

Viktor's glare shifted. "What now?"

"Corvin's men were seen near the docks. Looks like they're watching our shipments."

Alina felt her pulse quicken. The docks were the lifeline of her father's empire. If Dante wanted to cripple them, that's where he'd start.

"I'll deal with it," Viktor said sharply, grabbing his coat. "Alina, stay out of this."

But as soon as he and Anton left, she knew she wouldn't.

Later that night, Alina found herself standing on the edge of the city's decaying waterfront. The scent of salt and rust hung in the air. She wasn't sure what had drawn her here—the need to see the truth for herself, or the lingering thought of Dante's dark eyes and dangerous promises.

"Curiosity killed the cat," a familiar voice murmured behind her.

Alina spun around, her heart racing. Dante leaned casually against a crate, his smirk as infuriating as ever.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered harshly.

"I could ask you the same," he replied, stepping closer. "But something tells me you're not here for a late-night stroll."

Alina crossed her arms, trying to mask her nerves. "Maybe I don't trust you."

"Smart girl," Dante whispered, his gaze never leaving hers. "But trust has nothing to do with what's between us."

"What exactly is between us?" she challenged.

He leaned in, his lips just inches from hers. "Something dangerous."

Her breath hitched, but she refused to back down. "I'm not afraid of you."

Dante chuckled softly, the sound dark and intoxicating. "You should be."

But even as he said it, his hand brushed a stray strand of hair from her face with a tenderness that contradicted every warning.

And for the first time, Alina realized that the line between enemy and lover was far thinner than she ever imagined.