Page 20 of Take Me Darkly

And for that, I was hopelessly, dangerously grateful.

“Where did you go just now?” Anton’s low voice cut through the fog in my head.

I raised my eyes to meet his intense, watchful gaze. “I was thinking about our agreement. The money in exchange for thirty days.”

His expression shifted to something I couldn’t quite determine. Surprise, maybe. Or perhaps wariness.

“What about it?”

“It feels like a lifetime ago,” I whispered. “We aren’t the same people anymore, Anton. I just... I don’t know what this is. Are we still playing out the terms of a contract? Or has this become something else entirely?”

His hand shifted from my shoulder, his long fingers trailing down my spine to rest firmly on the curve of my hip as he leaned closer, his heat surrounding me.

“The circumstances have evolved, but I always honor my word. It may be a long time before it’s safe for you to return to Italy, but the funding for your research remains yours if you still want it.”

I shook my head, the realization settling over me with quiet finality.

“I don’t think I’ll ever need it,” I said softly. “After everything Zeke laid out on that table, my father’s life’s work was likely an illusion. He believed he was hunting the lost tomb of Antony and Cleopatra, but he had unknowingly stumbled onto something else entirely. Maybe his academic critics were right all along... maybe he was chasing ghosts. I don’t care anymore.” I paused, thinking of my glassblowing workshop in Lucca—the furnace, the tools, the glass—now reduced to soot and rubble. I missed that part of myself, and knew archaeology now belonged to my past. “For years, I lived in my father’s shadow, chasing his obsessions. It’s time I forge my own path.”

Anton remained quiet for a long beat, his strong jaw flexing as he processed my words.

“You said you don’t know what we are anymore,” he said, his thumb tracing a mesmerizing circle against my hip through the soft fabric of my pants. “Trauma reshapes everything it touches. Who we are to each other now had been redefined. Who we are is up to you, Serena. What do you want us to be, princess?”

The question stripped away my defenses. I had braced myself for him to take command, to lay down terms and dictate the rules of our dynamic as he always did.

Instead, he was yielding the floor to me.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, the sheer vulnerability of the confession making my throat tight. “I’m terrified, Anton. My whole life feels like it was built on a foundation of lies and manipulation. So many of the things I trusted turned out to be an illusion. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“This is real.” His hand moved from my hip, his thumb tracing the delicate line of my collarbone before his broad palm settled flat over my heart. I gasped as the heat of his hand seeped into my chest, sending a wave of electric awareness skittering across my skin. “What’s beating right here is real. We are real.”

“Are we?” I turned toward him, searching the dark depths of his eyes for any sign of hesitation. “Because I still feel like I’m standing on the outside looking in. There are parts of you locked behind impenetrable walls, Anton. Walls I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to breach.”

His expression shuttered slightly, his lethal composure sliding back into place.

“Some things are better left buried, Serena.”

I pressed my lips together, but the frustration that had been brewing inside me all morning finally broke through.

“Why did you refuse federal involvement?” I demanded, my voice rising. “I watched your face when Zeke suggested bringing in the FBI. You looked... furious. Or cornered. I couldn’t tell which.”

Anton’s jaw locked, his eyes darkening to a shade as black as pitch. The carefully curated mask of the powerful billionaire cracked, revealing the raw, dangerous animal beneath before he forced his iron composure back into place.

“That is not a discussion for today.”

“Why not?” I pressed, leaning into his space despite the dangerous edge rolling off him. “If I’m supposed to trust you with my life, don’t I have the right to know why you’re pushing away federal law enforcement? It’s the logical step! Why are you so adamant about running this dark?”

“Serena, it’s complicated.”

“Everything is complicated!” I countered, the anger burning away my exhaustion. “My mother was murdered, my father was poisoned by my ex-boyfriend, and I have a bullet wound in my shoulder! ‘Complicated’ doesn’t even begin to describe my life!”

He stood abruptly, towering over me as he broke the connection between us. The sudden loss of his touch felt like a physical tear. He stepped away, his broad back rigid with tension.

“There are elements of my past,” he said, his baritone tight and lethal, “that would draw unwanted scrutiny if the federal government started digging through my life.”

My pulse spiked. “What kind of elements?”

“The kind that stay buried,” he repeated, refusing to look at me. “You know I grew up in this building with my mother when it was a whore house run by a vile pimp. What you don’t know⁠—”