Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 68: Chapter 68

MARISOL
Luzie stirred but didn’t wake as I kissed her cheek.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I whispered, brushing a curl from her forehead. She clutched her stuffed rabbit tighter, her breath warm against my arm.
Back in my room, I slid the closet door open and stared down my options. The deep crimson dress practically dared me. I slipped it on, the silky fabric hugging every curve, the plunging neckline drawing my eye in the mirror. It was bold. Striking. Not the kind of thing I usually wore, but maybe that was the point.
I added the stilettos. Click, click. A rhythm of nerves and confidence. I gave my reflection one last look. Loose waves framed my face. Smoky eyes. Nude lips. I looked like the kind of woman who knew what she wanted. Except my stomach twisted.
I stepped into the hallway and headed toward the dining room, the echo of my heels giving me away before I even entered.
Nina looked up, her eyes going wide.
“Wow, Marisol. You look incredible. He’s not going to know what hit him.”
A laugh slipped out of me.
“Thanks, Nina. I hope so.”
She tilted her head, watching me like she could see right through the nerves I was pretending not to have.
“Where’s he taking you?”
“Somni.”
Nina’s eyebrows shot up.
“Whoa. He’s really pulling out all the stops.”
But as I turned to grab my clutch, the weight of Dante’s stare pinned me in place. He didn’t say a word. Just watched.
Heat creeped up my neck.
Was he always this intense?
He was my bodyguard, yes, but I had never hired someone so focused. His gaze didn’t drift, didn’t soften. It locked. Tracked. Assessed.
Is it always like this with him, or is he just over the top?
I gripped my clutch tighter. Maybe it was just his job. Maybe that kind of relentless focus was why people said he was the best. Still, something about the way he looks at me makes my skin buzz.
“I’m heading out now,” I said, forcing casual into my tone.
His voice cut through the room before I even reached the door.
“You’re not going without me and a full security detail.”
I turned slowly, already feeling my jaw tighten.
“Carlos will have his security, Dante. You’re not needed.”
He stepped forward.
“I don’t care if his team’s there. They’ll guard him, not you. My team’s coming too.”
I stared him down. I hated being overruled. Hated how something about his tone made it feel personal.
“Fine,” I snapped.
“But Felix stays here with Luzie. You can follow in a separate car. Stay back.”
He nodded once, but the tension didn’t ease. It thickened.
The doorbell rang. I turned to leave, grateful for the excuse. From the dining room, Nina’s voice rang out.
“Enjoy every inch of him!”
I laughed, shaking my head. Typical Nina. As I opened the door and stepped outside, I caught a glimpse of Dante in the background, scowling like her words had drawn blood.
DANTE
She moved like she had no idea what she was doing to me. Like she hadn’t just torn open the past and walked straight out of it.
The dress was a weapon. That color against her skin. The neckline that had my hands curling into fists under the table. My breath stuck somewhere between memory and want.
Then Nina opened her mouth, and Marisol laughed. Carefree. Beautiful. And completely unaware.
She doesn’t remember. That much was clear in the way she met my eyes like I was a stranger. Her stare didn’t soften, didn’t linger. It just moved on.
She said she was leaving like it was no big deal. Like I’m not about to fall apart watching her walk out that door.
“You’re not going without me and a full security detail.” I heard the edge in my voice, but I didn’t bother softening it.
She turned, eyes sharp.
“Carlos will have his security, Dante. You’re not needed.”
“I don’t care if his team’s there. They’ll guard him, not you.” My chest felt too tight.
“My team’s coming too.”
We stared at each other, the space between us a battlefield. I waited for her to fight harder. But she didn’t.
“Fine. But Felix stays here with Luzie. You can follow in a separate car. Stay back.”
It wasn’t a win. It was a compromise. And it still burned.
The doorbell rang. I didn’t move. Nina’s voice called out something crude, and Marisol laughed again.
That laugh, light and warm, sliced through me. She doesn’t see the damage. Doesn’t remember the way she used to look at me. The way she used to need me.
She opened the door to Carlos, and the sight of him made my stomach churn. Somni. Of course he’d choose the most exclusive restaurant in Los Angeles. The wealthy and celebrities didn’t just make reservations there; they bought them with favors and influence. It wasn’t just a date. It was a statement.
I stayed back as she walked out, trailing scent and fire. I tapped my earpiece.
"Change of plans. I need eyes on the restaurant. Now. Sweep the perimeter before she arrives. You’ve got fifteen minutes, tops."
A beat of silence, then:
"Copy that. Moving."
I’ll be watching. Nothing’s getting out of hand tonight.
MARISOL
Carlos smoothly pulled up to the restaurant, the flash of cameras already visible through the tinted windows. He turned to me with a reassuring smile.
“Ready?”
I nodded, my heart racing with excitement. I couldn’t deny the thrill of being with Carlos, his attention, his charm, the way he made me feel special.
He quickly exited the car and made his way around to my door, opening it with a flourish. The moment I stepped out, the clamor of shouting paparazzi hit my ears. Carlos placed his hand on my lower back, the warmth of his touch sending a flutter through me.
“This way,” he murmured close to my ear, his breath tickling my skin as he guided me through the swarm of photographers. The gentle pressure of his hand felt reassuring, grounding me in the chaotic scene. I liked how he took control, how protective he seemed, but in a way that still let me feel in charge.
Inside, the restaurant manager led us to a private room bathed in warm candlelight. Shadows danced on the burgundy walls. A small table with a single red rose stood in the center. Soft, romantic music floated through the air, wrapping the space in intimacy.
My heart fluttered. Carlos had thought of everything. The candlelight, the privacy. It felt perfect. I admired how effortlessly he crafted these moments.
When he pulled out my chair, his touch lingered on my shoulder and heat creeps into my cheeks. The intimacy between us deepened with each small gesture.
As I settled in, I caught a glimpse of Dante near the entrance, standing beside Carlos’s bodyguard. The two exchanged a brief, professional nod. Dante’s face remained unreadable, his posture composed as ever.
Inside the private room, Carlos reached across the table, gently taking my hand in his. His thumb traced soft, deliberate circles on my skin, sending a wave of warmth through me.
“You know,” he said, his voice low and sincere, “I’m usually in control, but you’ve got me off balance in the best way possible.”
My heart skipped at his words. I smiled, disarmed by the sincerity I heard in his tone.
“Good. I wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you.”
Carlos chuckled, his laugh deep and smooth.
“I can handle the challenge, but don’t be surprised if I rise to meet you.”
He held my gaze, his eyes full of warmth and playful confidence.
Something about the way he said it landed differently than the usual compliments I’d grown used to hearing. These words weren’t rehearsed or hollow. They were personal, direct, and they worked.
I leaned in slightly, my lips curving into a playful smile.
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” I teased, my fingers tightening slightly around his. I liked the game we were playing, the back-and-forth banter that kept me on my toes.
Carlos was charming, yes, but it was his confidence without arrogance that drew me in. Everything about him felt easy, exciting. I definitely wanted more of that.
When we finished and stepped outside the private room, Dante straightened from where he’d been waiting near the exit.
“The exit has been secured for your departure,” he said, his tone clipped and neutral.
Carlos’s bodyguard gave a similar nod as he took up position beside Carlos. Dante moved ahead, clearing a path through the lingering paparazzi with help from the rest of the security team. He walked slightly ahead of us, his steps precise, his focus locked on the job.
When we reached the curb, Carlos smoothly opened the passenger door of his sleek, midnight blue Aston Martin DBS. I met his eyes, warmth spreading through me as I slipped into the leather seat.
I liked the way Carlos made me feel, desired, appreciated. It’s been a long time since someone has looked at me that way, with admiration and ease.
The door shut with a soft click. The car pulled away from the curb, gliding into the night.