The Morning After.
Dante woke up with a jolt, his hand instinctively reaching for the other side of the bed. The silk sheets were cold. For the first time in his life, the Butcher of the Syndicate felt a sharp, paralyzing fear that had nothing to do with a gun or a blade. He didn't care about his wound or the pain in his ribs as he threw on a shirt and ran from the room.
He searched every hallway and every shadowed corner of the mansion, his heart hammering against his chest like a trapped animal. He reached the glass doors leading to the private courtyard and stopped.
Elara was there. The morning sun caught the gold in her hair as she stood among the lilies, quietly watering the plants he had brought in to soften her cage. She looked peaceful, a sharp contrast to the violence of the night before.
Dante walked across the grass, his footsteps silent, and wrapped his arms tightly around her from behind. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and breathed her in, his whole body shaking with relief. He whispered thank you into her skin, his voice cracking with a vulnerability he never showed the world.
Elara went still in his arms. She didn't pull away, but she didn't hug him back. She just looked at the water soaking into the earth.
The moment was broken by the sound of boots on the gravel path. Mark approached them, his face grimmer than usual. He waited until Dante let go of Elara and turned around, the cold mask sliding back into place.
They walked to the study in silence. Once the heavy doors were shut, Mark looked Dante in the eye and delivered the news.
He told Dante that while the mansion was being seized, his stepbrother had slipped through a hidden tunnel in the basement. He was gone, and he hadn't gone alone. He had taken the encryption keys to the family's offshore accounts.
Dante sat behind his desk, his eyes turning into chips of black ice. He didn't shout. He didn't break anything. He just looked at the security monitors and saw Elara still standing in the garden.
He told Mark that his stepbrother was a dead man walking. He told him to put a price on his head that would make his own shadow turn against him.
But inside, Dante knew the truth. His stepbrother didn't just want the money. He knew about Elara. He knew she was the only thing that could make the Butcher bleed