The Mafia Devil in My Inbox Chapter 05

The Mafia Devil in My Inbox Chapter 05

“Hannah?” 

Don DeLorenzo tilted his head, looking at me with 

an almost innocent expression. 

“What do you mean you’re not wearing the blue 

dress?” 

My hand grabbed his lapel as I questioned him. 

To anyone watching, I probably looked completely 

unhinged. 

“Did you even read the dress code on the 

invitation?” 

He didn’t seem angry at all that I was gripping his 

suit. 

Instead, he calmly took hold of my wrist. 

“It said blue anything.” 

My face instantly flushed. I felt ridiculous for even 

thinking, even for a second, that Don DeLorenzo 

might be Inferno. 

Hannah. Get a grip. 

“Sorry,” I quickly let go of his collar. “And sorry I’m 

late.” 

I straightened awkwardly and stepped out of 

Dante’s arms, glancing at my watch. 

“You weren’t late,” he said, “I was early.” 

With that, he turned and walked into the 

restaurant. 

I followed him inside. 

Our table was decorated with roses, and a piano 

sat nearby. 

Something about it felt strange. 

It looked less like a business dinner and more like 

a date. 

Dante must have noticed my confusion. 

“Don’t overthink it, Hannah,” he said. “I just like the 

food here.” 

I forced a nervous smile. 

He snapped his fingers. 

A waiter approached immediately. 

Dante took the menu in his long fingers and began. 

ordering without hesitation, choosing several 

extremely expensive dishes. 

The names alone made my heart tighten. 

A memory flashed through my mind. I had once 

sent Inferno a post. 

“Hey, if we ever meet in person, can we come here. 

for our first meal?” 

Inferno had replied instantly: “Of course, baby. 

What do you like here? I’ll remember everything.” 

I had listed everything excitedly. 

Black truffle lobster. Spanish Denia red prawns. A 

full caviar feast. 

Then I had added casually, “It’s a bit expensive. 

though. Maybe we should split the bill?” 

Inferno had replied, “It doesn’t matter. Order 

whatever you want. I’ll pay.” 

The past suddenly felt painfully distant. 

I never expected Orlando wouldn’t be the one 

sitting across from me. 

Instead, Dante was the one ordering every dish I 

had once mentioned to Inferno. 

His voice pulled me back, “Do these suit your 

taste, Hannah?” 

I forced back the sting in my eyes and smiled. 

“Yes. They’re all my favorites.” 

“Good.” 

Dante picked up his knife and fork and calmly cut 

into the lobster, taking small, composed bites. 

Halfway through the meal, a woman in a yellow 

gown walked in. 

She gave a slight nod and sat at the piano. 

Soft music filled the room. 

It was Richard Clayderman’s Love Song. The 

melody was tender, almost intimate. 

The romantic lighting, the roses, the music, and 

Dante sitting there like some untouchable prince. 

For a moment, it felt like he was about to confess 

to me. 

Who holds a business dinner in a place like this? 

Something about it felt off. 

I turned to him, “Don DeLorenzo, Don Riccardi said 

you still had questions about the proposal. I can explain anything you need.” 

Dante set down his cutlery and wiped his hands, “Orlando already explained everything to me. I don’t have any issues with the proposal. I just wanted to have dinner with you.” 

My stomach tightened. 

Damn it, Orlando. 

If he’d already explained everything, why didn’t he 

tell me? 

This dinner was torture. I felt like I was sitting on 

needles. 

Every so often, I stole glances at Dante. And every time, I found him already looking at me. 

His dark eyes held something I couldn’t 

understand. 

Something deep. Something unreadable. 

There was emotion there. Sadness. Affection. 

Every time he wiped his mouth, every time our 

eyes met, my heart skipped. And I kept thinking 

about earlier. 

When I fell into his arms. The way he caught me, 

held me… then let go. 

That single touch felt like it had burned itself into 

my skin. 

My dress still felt hot against my body. Almost like 

it was branding me. 

Uncomfortably. Dangerously. Even… wet. 

A ridiculous thought slipped into my mind–maybe 

I should date Dante DeLorenzo. 

I let out a bitter laugh at myself. 

Hannah, you’re really that shallow, huh? Already 

forgetting Inferno so fast? 

Looks like you’re just as bad as Orlando.