A New Project, A New Problem
The next morning, Doris arrived at Marlowe & Co. with a pounding headache and an even heavier heart.
She hadn't slept well.
Dante's kiss lingered on her lips like a secret she couldn't keep.
And now, she had to work with him.
Every day.
For the foreseeable future.
As she stepped into the studio, Clara Whitmore was already waiting for her, arms crossed, clipboard in hand.
"Glad you could join us," Clara said dryly.
"I'm early," Doris replied.
Clara smirked. "You're just in time for the first creative meeting."
Doris followed her through the halls, her stomach twisting tighter with each step.
When they reached the main design room, there he was.
Dante.
Standing beside a massive mood board filled with moody photographs, vintage dresses, and haunting lyrics scribbled across the corners.
He looked up as she entered.
Their eyes met.
His expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his gaze.
Regret?
Longing?
Both?
Clara clapped once. "Alright everyone, let's get started."
Doris took her seat at the long table, doing her best to avoid looking at him directly.
But it was impossible.
Because every time she glanced at the board, she saw him .
Not just in the music notes or the fashion sketches.
In the vibe of the entire project.
It was dark.
Beautiful.
Broken.
Just like him.
---
Sparks and Sabotage
By midday, the tension between them was palpable.
They were assigned to work together on the first set of designs—Dante handling the musical inspiration and overall aesthetic, Doris translating those emotions into fabric and form.
At one point, while discussing color palettes, their hands brushed over a swatch of deep crimson.
Electricity shot through her fingers.
She pulled away quickly.
He didn't.
Instead, he leaned closer, voice low.
"You still feel it, don't you?"
She glared at him. "Don't do this."
He tilted his head. "Do what?"
"This." She gestured between them. "This… whatever this is."
He smirked. "You mean the way your breath catches when I touch you?"
She clenched her jaw. "I mean the fact that you disappeared after one night."
"I told you why."
"And yet here you are, back in my life like nothing happened."
He studied her carefully. "You think I came back just for you?"
Her chest tightened. "Didn't you?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned back to the board.
"Let's focus on the collection."
She hated how easily he could shut her out.
---
Behind Closed Doors
Later that evening, Clara called Doris into her office.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Clara sat behind her desk, sipping tea from a delicate porcelain cup.
"You've been making waves," she said without preamble.
Doris frowned. "Excuse me?"
Clara placed the cup down gently. "Working with Dante isn't just about design anymore. There's a reason we brought him in."
Doris narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Clara leaned forward slightly. "Dante has connections. Influence. He used to be one of the most powerful names in the industry. And now, he's coming back."
Doris felt a chill crawl up her spine. "So what does that have to do with me?"
Clara gave her a knowing look. "Everything."
There was a pause.
Then Clara added, "You're not just working on a fashion line, Doris. You're part of a comeback story."
Doris swallowed hard.
Suddenly, everything made sense.
The timing.
The sudden promotion.
The pressure to impress.
It wasn't just about creativity.
It was about image.
About redemption.
About control.
And somehow, she was caught in the middle.
---
Digging Into Dante
That night, unable to sleep, Doris opened her laptop and began searching.
Dante Dangerwaker
Lila Voss
2017 Music Scandal
The headlines were endless.
"Music Producer Found Lila Voss Dead in His Apartment"
"Was It Suicide—or Something More?"
"Dante Vanishes After Tragedy"
She scrolled through old interviews, tabloid articles, and fan forums.
Some believed Dante had pushed her to overdose.
Others swore he was innocent.
All anyone knew was that Lila had been found alone in his apartment.
With no witnesses.
No note.
Just silence.
Doris closed the laptop.
Her heart pounded.
Why would someone who ran from his past come back now?
Unless…
He needed something.
Or someone.
---
Midnight Encounter
The rain began to fall again.
Soft at first.
Then harder.
Doris stood by the window, watching the streets blur beneath the water.
A knock at the door startled her.
She hesitated.
Then opened it.
Dante stood there, soaked from the storm.
He didn't say anything at first.
Just looked at her.
Then he stepped inside.
Without asking.
She closed the door behind him.
"You shouldn't be here," she whispered.
He shrugged off his coat, letting it fall to the floor.
"I needed to see you."
She folded her arms. "Why?"
He walked toward her slowly. "Because you're the only person who sees me."
She shook her head. "I barely know you."
"You know more than anyone else."
She exhaled sharply. "I read about Lila tonight."
His expression changed.
Instantly.
Like she'd touched a wound that never healed.
"She was my friend," he said quietly.
"Was that all?"
He looked away. "Does it matter?"
"It does if you expect me to trust you."
He finally met her eyes. "You can."
"But should I?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he kissed her.
Hard.
Fierce.
Full of desperation.
And she kissed him back.
Even though she knew it was a mistake.
Even though she knew it wouldn't last.
Because in that moment…
She didn't care.
The rain kept falling outside.
Inside, the air was thick with unspoken words.
Doris lay tangled in sheets, staring at the ceiling.
Beside her, Dante was silent.
She turned to him.
"What happens when this is over?" she asked.
He didn't move. "What do you mean?"
"The project. The collection. When it's done… will you disappear again?"
He finally looked at her.
"No."
She searched his face.
"Promise me."
He reached for her hand.
"I promise."
She wanted to believe him.
God help her, she did.
But promises were easy to break.
Especially in the rain.