ARIA
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Dante is beside me, his breathing deep and even, but my mind won't quiet. It keeps circling back to the dossier Viktor showed us of the surveillance photos of Emma and James's pointed social media posts.
To the realization that my entire family sees me as an obstacle worth eliminating.
Around 2 AM, I give up on sleeping and slip out of bed. I padded to the terrace, wrapped myself in one of Dante's shirts, and stared out at the city.
The penthouse is quiet except for the distant hum of Manhattan, which indicates that it never truly sleeps.
"Can't sleep either?"
I turn to find Dante in the doorway, bare-chested in pajama pants, his hair mussed from sleep.
"Did I wake you?"
"No. The bed got cold without you." He joins me at the railing. "What's goin
