Chapter 114

• Aria’s breath caught in her throat, threatened by a wave of icy dread. Her mouth tasted bitter, as if every smile she’d exchanged this morning had turned to ash. Her knuckles whitened around the porcelain cup, the glaze slick against shaking fingers. Goosebumps pricked her arms—even as the café’s warmth sat heavy.
• Dante’s mouth twisted into a smirk that was all cold cruelty as he leaned in—his voice soft, dangerous, and unmistakable. “No te escondas, preciosa. (Don’t hide from me, darling.)”
• Aria took an instinctive step back, the thick aroma of coffee and pastries replaced by a chill that seemed to seep from the very walls. She could feel the pulse in her throat, her breath shallow and ragged. Her eyes darted to the doors and windows, searching for escape, but before she could move, a blur of black coats blocked her retreat with predatory precision.