"Hey!" I yelp, trying to scramble back out, but he's already sliding in beside me, pulling the door shut.
And that's when I realize my dress has ridden up.
All the way up.
I freeze, feeling the cool leather against the back of my thighs, suddenly hyperaware that the modest floral dress I wore to school this morning has betrayed me completely. The hem is bunched around my hips, and my underwear—a black, tiny, lace that hides nothing, the one indulgence I allow myself because no one sees it—is fully visible.
Heat floods my face.
Dante's gaze drops. Lingers. Darkens.
Shit.
"Oh my God." I yank the dress down, my hands fumbling with the fabric. "Stop looking!"
"Hard not to when you're practically in my lap." His voice washes down my thighs, husky and deep. He leans in to whisper in my ear. “Color me surprised, Miss Mancini.”
"This is your fault!" I shove at his chest, which is like shoving a brick wall. "You threw me in here like a—a sack of potatoes!"
He shrugged. "You refused a direct order."
"Because it was an insane order!"
"Even when my orders seem insane to you, you’ll follow them anyway.”
We're close. Too close. His knee is pressed against mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off him even through the layers of expensive fabric. Can smell that cologne again—something woody and sharp that makes my head spin.
He's still looking at me. Not at my underwear anymore, but at my face. At my mouth.
I gulp.
"T-This won't work," I say, and I hate that my voice is shaking. "You can't just manhandle me whenever I don't do what you want. I'm not a doll."
"No." His hand comes up, and I think he's going to touch my face again like he did inside. Instead, he reaches past me and pulls the seatbelt across my body, his arm brushing my chest as he clicks it into place. "You're much more interesting than a doll."
The seatbelt feels like a cage.
"I hate you," I whisper.
"Good." He leans back, putting distance between us. "Keep it that way.”
Marco climbs into the driver's seat, and the engine purrs to life.
"Where are we going?" I ask, even though I'm pretty sure I know the answer.
"My house. You're moving in today."
"You said tomorrow?—"
"I changed my mind." He's looking at his phone again, already dismissing me. "I want you where I can see you. Make sure you're not planning anything stupid."
"Like what? Escape? That’s not an option."
"People do stupid things when they're desperate." He glances up. "I'd hate to have to punish you before we've even begun."
P-punish me?
Marco pulls away from the curb, and I watch the apartment building disappear in the side mirror. Somewhere in there, in that smoke-filled room, I left behind my old life.
