--
The first time I got into Dante's car, I felt like I'd stepped into another world. Leather seats that smelled like sin, music humming low, the city lights flickering across his sharp profile.
"You're staring," he said without looking at me, his hand casually resting on the wheel.
I jerked my gaze away, heat rushing to my cheeks. "I wasn't—"
"You were." His lips curved into that arrogant smirk. "Careful, Isolde. Keep looking at me like that and I'll start thinking you want me."
I snapped my head toward him. "You're insufferable."
"Yet you're here." His tone was smooth, smug. "In my car. With me."
God, he was impossible.
---
At campus the next day, things were different. Whispers followed me down the hallway. Girls eyed me with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. News traveled fast, and apparently, everyone already knew about the mysterious neighbor who drove a black car and looked like he'd stepped out of hell.
"Isolde," Tessa—my best friend—cornered me by the lockers. "What the hell are you doing with him?"
"What do you mean?"
She rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb. Everyone knows Dante Moretti. He's… dangerous."
The word echoed in my chest. Dangerous. That's what everyone kept saying. But no one explained why.
Before I could answer, the fire alarm screeched. At first, we laughed—another stupid drill—but then the lights flickered, and the smell of smoke curled through the air.
Panic. Students rushing. Screams echoing down the halls.
Someone grabbed my wrist, yanking me away from the stampede. My heart stopped when I looked up—
Dante.
"What are you doing here?" I gasped, chest heaving.
"Saving your stubborn ass," he growled, practically dragging me toward the exit.
"Let go—"
"No." His jaw clenched, his grip unyielding. "I told you, Isolde. As long as I'm breathing, no one touches you. Not fire, not men, not fate. No one."
---
Outside, the chaos blurred—sirens, students crying, rumors of someone starting the fire on purpose.
I wrenched my hand free. "You can't just show up here like some hero. You don't own me!"
He leaned down, his eyes dark and stormy. "Maybe not. But you can't deny you want me to."
My breath hitched. I hated that he was right.
"Arrogant bastard," I whispered.
His smirk was pure sin. "Careful, bella. One of these days, I'm not going to stop at just saving you."
---
That night, I couldn't sleep. The fire had shaken everyone, but for me, it was more than that. Something about the way Dante had appeared, like he knew I'd be in danger, sent shivers through me.
And somewhere in the shadows of campus, someone had lit that fire for a reason.
And I had a sinking feeling—it had everything to do with me.
---