Dante's gaze was calm to the point of indifference. "It seems everyone thinks the world would be better without me. I think so too."
Bonnie finally understood the source of the unease she had felt all along. Her heart jolted. "Dante, you—"
"But then I met you."
Dante suddenly lifted his eyes. Those clear, jewel-like irises focused solely on her, softer than she had ever seen, as if they could spill over with starlight. His voice was low and tender. "Bonnie, I love you."
She had always known his feelings, he had never truly hidden them. But this was the first time he had confessed so earnestly.
His eyes were steady, his deep, husky voice carrying each word straight into the heart.
"Love you. Love you so much…"
The silence around them made those words even heavier, impossible not to move her.
Bonnie frowned, looking away, avoiding his gaze. Her fingers tightened around the wine glass. "I told you… we're impossible. Don't do this."
