Eleni
I blink awake, not remembering falling asleep or the slick leather under my cheek. Music still pounds into my hazy skull, but much softer now. The last thing I’m certain of is dancing at Piacere, and then…Dante?
“I know you’re awake,” he says from somewhere in the room.
I sit up, and the room blurs like I’m in a cartoon until I’m upright. Mostly upright. My eyes catch on a wall clock that says it’s one in the morning. Then, I see Dante behind a crisp, modernist, black-glass desk. I blink a few times. Nope, he doesn’t look happy.
“So?” I lever myself to my feet. Gianna convinced me to wear one of her dresses and a pair of her heels, so standing is even more of a challenge than it otherwise might be. She also convinced me not all alcohol tastes like the crap Dante drinks, and boy w
