Dante stood abruptly. “Watch your mouth.”
Marco raised both hands immediately. “Relax. I’m not judging. She’s hot.” The second those words left his mouth, Dante saw red. He grabbed Marco by the throat and slammed him into the wall hard enough to rattle the monitors.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” he shouted.
Marco choked in surprise, eyes wide. “What the fuck?—”
Dante tightened his grip. “You don’t look at her. You don’t think about her. You don’t fucking talk about her.” The room went dead silent except for Marco struggling to breathe. Dante realized what he was doing, and slowly, he let go of him.
Marco stumbled back, coughing violently while staring at him like he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. “Jesus Christ,” Marco rasped. “You really are fucked.” Dante turned away before he put the guy through another wall, because he wasn’t wrong—he was fucked.
“I’m making rounds,” he said, needing some space from Marco. He wanted to check on Lark before the big dinner. He walked to her room and stood outside her bedroom door, trying to get himself under control before going inside, but he failed miserably.
The second he opened the door and saw her sitting on the edge of the bed in a black silk robe, his entire body locked up. Lark’s dark hair spilled over her shoulders in messy waves, and her bare legs crossed slowly as she looked up at him. Suspicion filled her expression instantly.
“What now?” she asked. Dante shut the door behind him harder than intended, and Lark’s eyes narrowed immediately.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he breathed.
“Liar,” she challenged.
He exhaled slowly. “Your father wants you downstairs tonight.”
Her face went cold instantly. “For what?”
“A dinner,” he said, trying to give her as little information as possible.
“With who?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, but that was another lie.
Lark stood slowly from the bed. “You do know.” Dante looked away, which was a bad move because she walked straight toward him. Every instinct he had screamed at him to back up. Instead, he stayed perfectly still as she stopped inches away.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispered. That nearly fucking destroyed him because scaring her was the last thing that he wanted to do.
Dante dragged a hand over his face. “Lark?—”
“What is my father planning?” she asked. His silence answered for him. Fear flickered across her face before anger quickly replaced it. “He’s selling me,” she said flatly.
“No,” he breathed.
“But he wants to,” she said.
Dante’s jaw clenched. “Yes.” The honesty shocked both of them.
Lark stared at him for a long moment before laughing bitterly. “Wow, at least we’re finally being honest with each other.”
“You need to listen to me carefully,” he insisted. Something in his tone made her straighten immediately. Dante stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Tonight, stay near me.”
Her brows furrowed. “Why?” she asked.
“Just do it,” he ordered.
“Dante—”
“Stay near me,” he said again, this time with a little more heat. The command came out rougher than intended, making Lark’s breath hitch softly, and fuck, he noticed that too. He noticed everything about her. The way her pulse jumped in her throat, the way her lips parted slightly when he got too close, and the way she looked at him like she hated him and wanted him in equal measure. It was going to get them both killed.
