As she was walking down the stairs, she could feel eveyones gaze on her but for so reason she felt a sharper gaze among them she knew who it was and she was ready for what was coming
Or at least, she looked ready.
Her inside was filled with "dont get yourself killed" thoughts.
She paused halfway down as the dining hall ca into view.
The table was full. Candles glowed. Silver clinked. And there, in the kitchen doorway, was Alina.
Helping the maid.
Of course she was.
"Oh no, sweetie," her mother cooed, taking a glass from her hand, "that’s not needed, darling. You’re a guest."
She didn’t even need to hear Alina’s reply to ntally roll her eyes. Yah, of course. She’s the female lead, after all. Saving kittens, doing the dishes, world peace next? and look at her mother like seriously? i dont get the logic of these books.
Vielle scanned the table. Everyone was already seated.
Well... almost everyone.
Her eyes locked on the single empty seat, right beside Dante
Her stomach dropped. "Nope. No. Nah-ah," she muttered under her breath.
Her mother caught her eye.
The look said: If you cause one more scene, I will personally send you to the shadow realm.
Gulp.
She smoothed her dress and walked toward the chair like she wasn’t walking straight into a lion’s den.
Just as she reached it, a hand reached out to pull the chair along with her and their hand collid "Oh! I am so sorry for my rudeness, i thought that sit was for " Alina said, stepping aside sweetly. "Please, sit."
Viella glared, is she doin this intentionally or shes just straight up emptyheaded white lotus but before she could say anything
Dante’s voice ca, slightly lower
"Don’t you know it’s rude to sit in soone else’s seat?"
Vielle blinked.
HUH? I wasn’t even sitting yet, brother! ntally, she scread
She looked around.
...There was no extra chair for her.
Oh. Oh.
Her eyes locked onto her sister at the far end of the table grinning like the smug little devil spawn she was, sipping her wine with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
She did this. That evil witch. She actually removed my chair.
For a mont, Vielle just stood there, blinking, lips twitching.
Her family stared.
She clenched her jaw, tossed her hair back with dramatic flair, and turned on her heel. "Fine. I’ll get my own chair."
The staff tried to intervene. "Miss, please, we’ll bring-"
She walked passed
She dragged one from the hallway and plopped it at the opposite end of the table directly in front of her father... and directly across from Dante.
Dag it. I feel like prey between two apex predators. And one of them owns a gun collection.
"Let the dinner begin," her father finally said, clinking his fork against the glass.
Vielle sat down, lifted her wine glass, and internally chanted, Don’t cuss.
Then ca Dante’s mockery voice,
"Thank you for inviting us to dinner... Lady Vielle," he said smoothly. "After the fuss you caused, I wasn’t sure we would be sitting and dining together again."
Her eye twitched.
Choked a little while drinking her wine, she knew what he ant by that
Coughed.
Then smiled. "Ha...ha. You’re such a joker- i an that was a nice joke."
Halfway through appetizers, her father cleared his throat.
Oh no. Here it cos.
"I would like to apologize on behalf of my daughter," he began, "for her earlier behavior. You see, she’s still young and-"
"I didn’t know twenty-three was still considered young," Dante cut in smoothly, setting his glass down with a little clink.
Vielle froze, fork halfway to her mouth.
This btch.*
She coughed once, then smiled sweetly. "Ah, yes. And you, Lord Dante aren’t you known as the young, successful billionaire? I didn’t know twenty-eight was that young, either. But I don’t judge. I adore my dear fiancé afterall."
She turned to her father with a wide, fake smile.
"I’m so glad you picked such a kind-hearted man for Father!."
Her father clenched his fork so hard the silver bent slightly. "Indeed," he said flatly.
Across the table, Alina shifted awkwardly. "Mr. Darius Vielle, it’s really fine," she said in her soft, perfect FL voice. "There’s no need for an apology. Mistakes happen. I’m sure Lady Vielle didn’t even notice. I know she didnt do it intentionally, she never does."
Vielle barely resisted the urge to slap her forehead.
WHAT DO U AN I DIDNT ANT TO DO IT!! INFACT I DIDNT DO IT AT ALLLLL viella ntally scread
Her father nodded. "Yes. I’m sure she didn’t notice. Still..." He turned toward her with all the warmth of a tax collector. "You do owe an apology. So?"
She smiled tightly.
Do I look like I print apologies, Father?
"I don’t rember doing anything intentionally," she said flatly. "And why should I apologize for sothing that wasn’t even my fault?"
Dante tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching with mock amusent.
"So hurting my servant the other day wasn’t intentional either, I suppose? What about when u poured hot coffee on Alina the other day?"
Oh. He’s bringing that up now? Great.
"That," she said calmly, "was an accident. I didn’t push her. I don’t even touch servants. I pay people to do that for ."
Her sister nearly choked on her drink, probably because it was her plan to sabotage that day, too.
Alina winced politely. "It’s okay. My hand is much better now. It was treated very well. The doctor said it’ll be fine soon."
Her sister snorted. "Treated professionally. I an, Mr Dante sure takes a lot care of his servents. What a kind man. My little baby sister is lucky isn’t she" her voice attracted everyone’s attention. Clearly mocking.
There it is. Vielle’s inner eye twitched. Her sister always does this, wish she was murdered by original Viella.
Vielle twirled her spoon once, smiling with a calm fury only the damned possessed.
"Yes sister. And she received proper care. So I believe there’s nothing to worry about."
Dante said nothing.
But his gaze...
His gaze lingered far too long.
His eyes, cool and sharp, weren’t just angry they were studying her. Like she wasnt sothing was she supposed to be
Vielle gulped.
Okay. Judging by the plotline, he’s definitely started the obsession arc. And I just added gasoline with my damn mouth.
She suddenly felt very exposed.
Every glance from him was like a scalpel.
She lifted her wine glass again, draining it a little too fast.
Her father cleared his throat again. "You still haven’t apologized."
She forced a smile. "And I still don’t know what for."
Dante finally spoke again, voice low.
"You really haven’t changed, have you?"
She t his eyes dead-on,
"No," she said. "I just upgraded."
Silence.
The tension was so thick even Alina stopped breathing.
---
As her father’s jaw clenched for the tenth ti and his hand wrapped so tightly around his fork that it looked like he might stab soone (probably her), she knew things were about to explode.
Abort mission. Abort family dinner.
She stood up suddenly, chair scraping on the floor
"I- excuse ," she announced. "I must visit the lady’s room."
She didn’t wait for permission. She turned with the speed of soone dodging a missile
"Ughhhh," she groaned, clutching her face. "I need air. Or death. Whichever cos first."
Instead of heading to the washroom, she turned and slipped out the side door onto the balcony, the night breeze hit her. Her hands gripped the marble railing, her forehead thumped gently against it.
"I swear if one more person tells to apologize I’ll jump," she muttered.
Behind her, the balcony doors creaked open.
She didn’t turn. "If it’s you, Mother, I promise I’ll throw myself off and make it look like your fault."
No reply.
Until-
"Since when did you start throwing yourself instead of people?"
She stiffened.
Turned around slowly.
There he was. Dante. In all his suited, dark glory. Leaning against the doorway
Her brain scread. WHY CAN’T I EVER JUST BE ALONE?!
"What are you doing here?" she asked,
"I could ask you the sa," he said, taking a slow step forward.
One step.
Two steps.
"Fresh air," she said, inching back. "You know, oxygen. I find it helps prevent... murder."
Three steps. Four.
His hand suddenly shot out and grabbed hers—not gently—and before she could squawk in protest, he twisted her body around with an expert flick, back hitting the marble rail.
And then—
His arm ca up beside her head, caging her in.
another one slide behind her back, dantes warmth could be felt
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Okay, so either this is a threat... or he’s about to propose murder-marriage.
"Could you not—" she tried to move.
"Don’t," he warned, voice low.
She peeked behind her.
Yup. Balcony. No escape. Marble ledge. She’d probably break both her legs and maybe her dramatic neck.
Wow, she muttered. So this is how I die. Trapped by my fiancé. Honestly? Should’ve seen this coming.
Dante leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted over her cheek.
His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "What are you planning?"
She blinked. "What?"
"You hurt my people. You invite to dinner. You disrespect my people again. Acting all innocent. You think I wouldn’t notice?"
"Okay first of all - ow," she pointed at her trapped wrist. "Second what?!"
His eyes narrowed. "You’re testing my patience, Vielle. If this is your way of getting my attention, I am saying it again congratulations. You have it. But not in a good way"
He whispered the last line.
She stared at him.
Her brain: Wait, WAIT, hold up, back the hell up- was that a flirt or a threat? Or like... a threat-flirt? Is that a thing??
"Look, I don’t even like attention," she blurted. "I like snacks and sleep and not dying."
He didn’t flinch.
"Then stop provoking or else i will make sure u will get none of it," he growled, stepping even closer.
Their noses were dangerously close now.
"Okay well maybe stop acting like I’m out here plotting," she said with a weak laugh. "Do I look like I have plans?"
My plans are: survive, avoid you, and maybe moisturize.
Sothing flickered in his eyes.
Before she could say more- or bolt he abruptly stepped back. Released her wrist. The warmth vanished.
He adjusted his cuff, composed again like nothing happened.
"And yah stop using that stupid perfu from next ti. I dont like sweet slls"
And walked off
She stood frozen, blinking.
Then blurted, "Okay, what the actual hell just happened? I didnt even applied any perfu"
He was already gone.
She looked down at her wrist. Still tingling.
Looked at the moon.
Then looked back at the balcony doors.
.
.
.
.
.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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