Chapter 50
“How long have you been waiting?”
After draping his jacket over Riena’s shoulders, Dante sat her down on the sofa and asked. Though the days had grown warmer, it wasn’t yet summer. Once the sun set, the sea breeze turned sharp and cold.
“Not that long.”
Liar.
Dante narrowed his eyes, brushing his fingers over the spot where he’d touched her before moving to shut the office window. He had left it open earlier, and the night air had left the room chilly. He didn’t like that.
Clicking his tongue to smother the irritation that rose within him, he leaned casually against the desk. Meanwhile, Riena pressed on, unwilling to let him dodge her question.
“Tell me. What’s going to happen with the resort?”
“Did you come because you were worried?”
“Most of the residents have joined in. Did you know that?”
She ignored his question and pressed harder. Her urgency made Dante raise a brow as he drummed his fingers lightly on the desk.
What to do with her.
His gaze lingered on her before a faint smile tugged at his lips. The way she had come all this way just to spill her worries—it pleased him more than he cared to admit.
…Then I suppose I should play along, shouldn’t I?
“I know. That Miles fellow came by this morning, handed me a statement, declarations, the whole lot.”
He deliberately let his brows droop, feigning weariness, his lips curving into a tired smile.
Riena frowned, muttering under her breath like someone scolding him.
“But they’d already gotten everyone’s agreement in advance. To say this now, of all times—that’s too much. No, that’s just plain spiteful.”
“Mm. I know. It’s upsetting.”
She looked so earnest, as though she were consoling him, that he almost laughed. Dante bit back his amusement, arranging his features into something more somber. He even dipped his head, adding to the illusion of melancholy, before sneaking a glance at her.
Judging by her reaction, it had worked. She now sat with her brows drawn low, sighing heavily—looking more troubled than he did.
“But where did you hear all this? You seem well-informed.”
“I heard this morning… from Sharon.”
Ah.
Dante arched a brow, understanding dawning. He had thought the girl was nothing but a nuisance, but it seemed she had her uses after all.
He gave a short nod, enough to show he’d heard, then glanced briefly at the watch on his wrist. It was nearly time for Callis to return. He’d have to hide Riena before that happened.
As he calculated, Riena—who had been deep in thought—spoke again, determination flashing in her eyes.
“But don’t worry too much. Not everyone is against it. Some only followed Miles because they felt they had no choice…”
That was strange. Dante lifted his gaze, narrowing his eyes slightly. Her expression was… resolute.
Meeting his stare directly, Riena drew a breath and spoke clearly.
“The truth is, I went around today spreading some rumors. In the central square, the library… places like that. You may not know, but people here in Florian have always harbored an inferiority complex toward Sermar.”
Dante said nothing, only nodded once to show he was listening.
“So I told them—if the resort succeeds, ordinary merchants will benefit, and Florian might even surpass Sermar. Unlike the noisy, chaotic city, Florian could become a peaceful retreat. And when I said that… people wavered.”
She exhaled in a rush, breath hitching. Riena wasn’t one to talk much; pouring out so many words at once left her winded.
“And the street lamps… was that you? The townsfolk love them. They said they wanted to thank you, to greet you properly someday…”
Her voice trailed off as she realized Dante was just watching her, silent and unreadable.
“…Did I overstep?”
She faltered, the corners of her lips falling as her confidence crumbled.
Of course not.
Dante, who had been quietly observing her all along, lifted his hand to cover his mouth as laughter slipped free. She had known more than he’d expected, risked exposure to seek him out, worried for him, and even acted on his behalf. Everything she did was delightfully unexpected—yet perfectly in line with what he’d come to anticipate from her.
“…Why are you looking at me like that? Did I upset you?”
Still oblivious to the truth, Riena fidgeted, her expression falling.
He didn’t look away. Finally, Dante lowered his hand and spoke in a low, gentle voice.
“Riena.”
“Yes?”
“Well done.”
It was as if she had been waiting for those very words. Her face lit up with relief.
That was when—
Knock knock.
The sudden sound froze her in place.
“Sir, are you inside? I’ve come to deliver the evening report. May I enter?”
It was Callis.
Click.
The office door cracked open. Riena’s face drained of color.
Dante’s gaze slid to her, noting every tremor, before his voice cut through the air like ice.
“Close the door.”
The door halted mid-swing, Callis’s startled silence leaking through the gap.
“…Sir?”
Her heart pounding, Riena pressed her fingers together, barely breathing.
“Not tonight. Leave.”
“…But the manager insisted I deliver this message in person. If I could just—”
Dante’s brows furrowed. Irritating. He nearly dismissed him outright.
“Then say it from there. Quickly.”
On the other side, Riena imagined Callis must be clenching his fists in frustration.
“…Mayor Lester came earlier. Since you were away, he asked to meet with you tomorrow—he said it was important.”
Of course he did. Dante clicked his tongue, sounding bored.
“Tell him to come back tomorrow afternoon.”
“Yes, and the grand opening cerem—ah, never mind! Forgive me. Rest well, sir!”
Clack.
The door shut in a hurry. His survival instincts had sharpened; no doubt the sting of Dante’s past wrath had been seared into his very bones.
As Callis’s footsteps receded, Riena finally exhaled, collapsing into the sofa with a long sigh of relief.
Dante straightened, pushing off the desk.
Step. Step.
He walked around behind her, leaning down until his shadow draped over her. She sat stiffly, wrapped in his jacket, every line of her body tense.
Suppressing a smirk, Dante lowered his lips to her ear, his voice a hushed murmur.
“What has you so jumpy, Riena?”
“…Why didn’t you warn me your attendant would come? If I’d known, I would have waited until tomorrow.”
She turned sharply, glaring up at him with those gentle eyes that could never quite manage to look harsh. Amused, Dante raised a brow and reached for her hand.
“Your fingers are going numb.”
He took her clenched hands, pale from tension, and slowly threaded his fingers through hers. He traced along her knuckles, the back of her hand, her palm—warming them with his touch.
She didn’t pull away. That, more than anything, made him smile faintly.
Riena flinched at his shallow breaths brushing her ear, her shoulders curling inward. He kneaded her hand gently, feeling her pulse quicken, the sound of her heartbeat growing louder, thunderous even.
Her reddened ears and trembling neck stirred something possessive in him.
Does she give her hand this easily? No… she’s never done this with anyone else. She couldn’t have… right?
The sudden thought soured his mood. He laid his other hand on her shoulder, feeling her jolt beneath his touch.
“Riena, at this rate you’ll make yourself sick. Relax.”
He drawled the words against her ear, expecting her to flinch away, to tear her hand from his grip and bolt. But she didn’t.
Was she truly that shaken by Callis? Impossible—her heartbeat was strong, steady, clear.
He tilted his head, seeking her face—and laughed softly when he saw it.
“Shivering from the cold earlier, and now you’re flushed. Already too warm?”
Her entire face burned red, her wide eyes fixed on him with unexpected sharpness.
His golden gaze lingered on her, darkening, as her lips parted—bitten so hard they were nearly bleeding.
“…I told you not to tease me.”
“Tease? I’m only worried you’ll fall ill.”
A lie, his voice betraying his amusement.
“I… I should go.”
Startled at how close she was to him, Riena jerked her hand free and braced herself against the sofa, trying to rise.
Dante tilted his head, watching her closely.
She clenched her jaw, stubbornly pressing against the cushions—yet her legs betrayed her. Her strength failed, leaving her unable to stand. All she managed was a small shift along the sofa’s edge.
Dante’s voice dropped, smooth and coaxing.
“No strength in your legs… Seems you’ll have to rest here tonight, Riena.”
