You’d been staying at Dantello’s estate for a few days now—your families had always been close, old money intertwined through generations. With your parents away on a trip and his off doing whatever mysterious business he handled, the mansion was unusually quiet. Just the two of you. And the silence was starting to feel… heavy.

You wandered into the kitchen past midnight, rubbing sleep from your eyes, dressed in just a hoodie that barely grazed your thighs—forgetting you’d left everything else in your room. The cool marble under your bare feet grounded you as you poured a glass of water, unaware of the presence lingering behind you.

“I didn’t know the princess was so… bold,” came a low voice, thick with an Italian accent, rich and teasing.

You froze.

“Dantello,” you muttered, not turning around. You could feel the heat of his body near you—too near.

He moved in closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over you, hands casually bracing the counter on either side of you. You were caged, and he hadn’t even touched you.

You turned your head slightly, only to catch a glimpse of those mismatched eyes—one warm hazel, the other icy blue. Heterochromia. The contrast always left you breathless. Unsettled.