I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 452 Mine

"...What classic line?" he asked carefully.

"That one," she said, poking his chest again. "The you didn’t look at me like others line. Very old. Very dangerous. Used by handsome men since ancient times."

He actually laughed, a low sound escaping before he could stop it. "I’m not using any line."

"Yes, you are," she insisted, nodding to herself. "I noticed you immediately. Your face. Your height. Your stupidly good shoulders."

His brow lifted slightly. "You did?"

"Obviously," she said, offended that he even asked. "I’m not blind. I just didn’t stare because I have manners."

That... made sense.

"So," she continued, suddenly very serious again, leaning closer until their noses almost touched, "don’t say I didn’t look at you. Say I looked once and then behaved."

He swallowed, eyes darkening as he held her steady. "Fine," he said quietly. "You looked once. And behaved."

She smiled, satisfied, and promptly rested her forehead against his chest again.

"Good," she murmured. "Honesty is important in relationships."

He wrapped his arms around her fully this time, helplessly amused, helplessly gone.

He stiffened the moment she giggled again, that soft, unguarded sound tickling his nerves in the most dangerous way.

"I hope he didn’t say anything more," Dante muttered under his breath, already mentally summoning Boo into his office, picturing the tiny ghost floating nervously while he stared him down in cold silence. I will deal with him later, he thought darkly. Very later.

"Well..." Alina dragged the word out, clearly enjoying herself far too much. She lifted her head from his chest, her eyes sparkling with mischief, cheeks flushed pink from alcohol and laughter. "He told me how you talk to your cactus."

Dante froze.

"And," she continued, lowering her voice dramatically as if sharing state secrets, "how you scold it when it doesn’t grow properly. And how you apologize after."

His eye twitched.

"And," she added, trying very hard not to laugh and failing miserably, "he said you fart very seriously. Like you pretend nothing happened and continue working."

"What?!" Dante exploded, sitting up straight, all calm dignity shattered in one second.

That little ghost—

His jaw clenched so hard it actually hurt, shadows stirring as if they could sense his fury. His reputation. His carefully constructed, terrifying, elegant Demon Lord image—ruined. Completely ruined. By a floating child with too much free time and a mouth faster than common sense.

"That is absolutely—" he stopped himself mid-sentence, inhaled slowly, deeply, forcing the shadows back down. "That is classified information," he said stiffly.

Alina burst into full laughter, clutching his sleeve, her head tipping back as she laughed so hard she nearly slid off the couch. "Dannuuuu," she whined affectionately between giggles, "don’t be angry at Boo. He is sooo small and innocent."

"Innocent?" Dante repeated flatly.

She nodded vigorously, then leaned closer and patted his chest as if consoling a wounded beast. "Yes. Very innocent. Just very... talkative. And imaginative."

He closed his eyes for a moment, counting silently. One. Two. Three.

When he opened them again, his voice was controlled, though tight. "I do not talk to a cactus."

Alina hummed, clearly unconvinced. "That’s not what Boo said."

"And I do not fart... seriously."

She tilted her head, studying him with exaggerated seriousness. "But that part was very detailed."

He groaned softly and dropped his forehead against her shoulder, utterly defeated. "I am never letting him near you again."

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Too late. He already loves me. And I love him."

He sighed, resigned, as a helpless smile curved his lips.

Finally, without asking and without hesitation, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her easily into his arms. Alina let out a small, surprised sound, then laughed softly, her fingers instinctively curling into his collar as he carried her down from the rooftop, the night air brushing past them as if it, too, were watching.

Halfway down, her hazy gaze drifted past his shoulder.

And then she saw her.

The same waitress.

The one who had stared and tried to flirt with Dante.

In her drunken, unfiltered state, something sharp and possessive flared inside her chest.

Before Dante could even register what was happening, Alina suddenly tightened her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer. Her lips brushed against his skin, then lingered, soft and deliberate, right at the curve of his neck. She kissed him there once, twice, unashamed and unmistakably intimate, her cheek resting against him as she turned her head just enough to glare daggers at the waitress over his shoulder.

It was not subtle.

It was not polite.

It was very, very clear.

Dante felt it instantly.

Heat flooded his chest, deep and sudden, spreading fast like flame finding dry ground. His steps faltered for the briefest fraction of a second, his grip on her tightening instinctively as her lips warmed his skin. Her jealousy, soft and impulsive and drunken, hit him harder than any deliberate seduction ever could have.

His shadows stirred, restless and pleased.

He lifted his gaze just enough to meet the waitress’s eyes, his expression calm but deadly, a quiet warning layered with ownership so thick it was almost tangible. The waitress paled, looked away immediately, suddenly very interested in anything else in the room.

Alina, satisfied, sighed softly and nuzzled closer, her forehead resting against his jaw as if nothing extraordinary had just happened.

"Mine," she murmured, slurred and sleepy and utterly sincere.

Dante swallowed.

He adjusted her in his arms, holding her even closer now, one hand firm at her back, his voice low and controlled despite the storm raging in his chest. "You’re playing with fire, little human," he murmured near her ear.

She smiled lazily, eyes half-closed. "I know."

He stepped outside into the cool night air, the parking lights casting long shadows across the quiet road. He carefully opened the passenger door, lowered the seat, and adjusted it into a gentle recline, making sure she was comfortable before laying her down. Only when he was satisfied did he close the door softly and walk around to his side, sliding into the driver’s seat. His hand reached for the ignition—

—and then he noticed movement beside him.

Alina had pushed herself upright, her hair slightly messy now, her dress wrinkled, her expression stubbornly focused despite the unmistakable haze in her eyes.

He paused and turned toward her, concern immediately softening his features. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and full of care.