Dante’s POV

Alina thought she was subtle. She thought I couldn’t see the way her hands trembled when she picked up a glass, the way her eyes darted too quickly whenever her phone lit up, or the way she plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

But I noticed.

I always noticed.

I didn’t get to where I am by ignoring signs. I was raised to read people, to smell deceit in the air before it turned into betrayal. And Alina… she was starting to reek of secrets.

At dinner last night, when my phone buzzed with a message from one of my men, I saw the...