phin

d, Isabella clapped. "Enough serio

nst my ear. "The few days I've spent with him have been more passi

my palms. I followed the group into a plush, dimly lit game room

beside me. He didn't say a word; his presence was a silen

on Dante's other side, effectively sandwiching me between them. I didn't have to look to know his attention had s

the table. Before my fingers could

aid, his voice a low command. "Y

he husband he pretended to be. But the moment was sha

ruit juice he used to love as a teenager. "The production

ith a warmth I had never seen. Love and nostalgia warred in his

la," he said, h

knows him." Each word painted me as the interloper, the unwanted

ed, her eyes glittering with a predat

ghest card from a deck would choose someone to jo

ng between Dante and Isabella. The

card. The King of Spades. The highest car

prepared to stand, to leave, t

is grip painfully tight. "Don't move," he said, his voice a low mu

his arms. The crowd went wild as he led her toward the