Chapter 11
By three o’clock in the morning, the storm had finally passed, leaving the Manhattan sky clear and wash-paved.
Dante’s SUV pulled up outside a private high-rise building overlooking Central Park.
“Where are we?” Beatrice asked, looking up at the illuminated glass tower.
“My private residence,” Dante said, turning to look at her in the soft interior light of the car.
“Your sister is already upstairs in the guest suite, sleeping safely.”
Beatrice let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief, the tension finally melting from her shoulders.
“Thank you, Dante. For everything.”
“You don't need to thank me, Beatrice,” he said softly. “You did the heavy lifting tonight.”
They took the private penthouse elevator up to the top floor, stepping into a stunning modern apartment.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the park, bathed in the soft blue glow of pre-dawn light.
Maggie was asleep on a oversized velvet sofa in the living room, a warm blanket wrapped around her.
Beatrice walked over silently, brushing a soft curl away from her sister’s forehead, tears pricking her eyes.
“She was never in real danger,” Dante said softly, standing behind her. “My men were inside her building before the text was even sent.”
“Still… seeing those photos broke something inside me,” Beatrice confessed, turning to face him.
“It made me realize how much I was letting people push me around just to keep the peace.”
Dante looked down at her, his expression unusually gentle for a man feared by the entire city.
“You were never weak, Beatrice. You were just waiting for a battle worth fighting.”
She looked into his dark eyes, feeling a strange, intoxicating warmth spread through her chest.
The dynamic between them had shifted from a transactional alliance into something far deeper and more dangerous.
“What happens now?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper in the quiet room.
“Now, you take your rightful place as the majority owner of Wilkes & Hart,” Dante said softly.
“And what about us?” she asked, holding her breath.
May you like
Dante stepped closer, his thumb gently tracing the line of her jawline.
“That depends on whether you want the perception of tonight to become our reality.”
