Chapter 5 - The Price of a SecretBefore Viktor could round the marble pillar, a heavy hand clamped over Emily’s mouth, and a powerful arm jerked her backward into the deep, pitch-black recess of a recessed alcove behind a massive stone bust of Julius Caesar.
She flailed, her elbows striking hard muscle, but a low whisper hissed directly into her ear.
"If you value your lungs, stop moving," Enzo Dante breathed, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he pressed her flat against the cool stone wall. His other hand held Siri gently by the tactical collar, keeping the massive dog entirely silent.
Footsteps echoed sharply across the gallery floor. Viktor’s shadow swept across the marble just inches from where they stood hidden in the dark.
"Thought I heard something," Viktor grunted, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "Probably just the wind off the terrace or one of the housemaids."
"There is nothing in this house that moves without my permission," Enzo replied aloud, his voice projecting into the gallery with smooth, icy authority. "Check the perimeter again, Viktor. Your paranoia is making you jumpy."
A frustrated grunt sounded, followed by the heavy thud of leather boots receding toward the private elevator.
For a long minute, neither Enzo nor Emily moved. The space between them was entirely devoid of air. Emily could feel the hard line of Enzo’s chest pressed against hers, the steady, rhythmic beat of his pulse, and the faint, intoxicating scent of cedar and dark amber. She looked up in the suffocating dark, her eyes adjusting just enough to catch the sharp, silver glint of his gaze staring down at her with terrifying intensity.
"You have a bad habit of wandering where you don't belong, Miss Marcus," Enzo whispered, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register that sent a shiver straight down her spine.
"Your dog followed me," she whispered back fiercely, her voice trembling slightly despite her anger. "And maybe if you didn't conduct mafia business in the middle of an art gallery at two in the morning, people wouldn't stumble into your conspiracies."
Enzo didn't move away. Instead, his hand slid slowly from her mouth down to her jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone with terrifying gentleness.
"Conspiracies are just business with higher stakes, Emily," he murmured, using her first name for the first time. "And you are getting dangerously close to the edge of the board."
"Then let me go," she whispered, her heart hammering wildly against his ribs. "Give me Siri, and I'll walk out of here tonight. You'll never see me again. No loose threads. No liabilities."
Enzo’s thumb stopped tracing her cheek. His eyes darkened, locking onto hers with a possessive intensity that made her breath hitch.
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"I don't throw away valuable assets, Emily," he said softly, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "And right now... you and that dog are the only things in this fortress I find genuinely interesting."
Before she could reply, he stepped back, vanishing into the shadows as smoothly as he had appeared, leaving her shivering in the cold marble alcove with Siri pressing tightly against her trembling legs.
