Chapter 7 - Shifting IceFor the next two weeks, the locked door of Clara’s suite remained permanently open.
She was given free rein of the estate's upper floors, though the armed guards still followed her at a distance.
Julian became her constant shadow.
The little boy, traumatized by his near-kidnapping, found his only comfort in Clara’s gentle presence.
They played board games in the conservatory and read stories in the massive library.
Dante watched them from the shadows, his icy exterior slowly beginning to thaw.
He started joining them for dinner in the grand dining room.
Instead of talking about cartel business, he asked Clara about her life before the hospital.
She told him about growing up in foster care, about fighting tooth and nail to pay for nursing school.
Dante listened with an intensity that made Clara’s skin prickle with sudden heat.
One evening, after Julian was tucked into bed, Dante poured two glasses of wine.
He handed one to Clara as they stood on the balcony overlooking the dark ocean.
“You are very good for him,” Dante said quietly.
“He is a wonderful boy, Dante,” Clara replied, looking out at the crashing waves.
“He deserves a normal life.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“There is no normal in my world, Clara.”
“I was born into this violence, and I will likely die in it.”
He turned to face her, stepping close enough that she could smell his expensive cedar cologne.
“But watching you with him makes me wish there was another way.”
He reached out, his thumb gently tracing the line of her jaw.
May you like
Clara’s heart hammered against her ribs, completely terrified by how much she wanted him to kiss her.
Before he could lean in, the deafening shriek of the perimeter alarm ripped through the night.
