CRIMSON IVY

Chapter 8: The Shadow Gallery

​The following morning, Dante didn't send a driver. Instead, he led Sloane into a part of the basement she hadn't seen—a high-tech surveillance room filled with glowing monitors. On the screens were live feeds of the university, her father’s cell, and various street corners in the city.

​"If you want to be a partner, start learning the terrain," Dante said, pointing to a screen showing a sleek, silver Mercedes parked near the Blackwood gates. "That’s the Sokolov family. They’ve been trailing you for three days. They think you’re the key to my father’s offshore accounts."

​Sloane felt a chill that had nothing to do with the basement air. "What do they want?"

​"They want to leverage you to break me," Dante said, his voice flat. He handed her a small, elegant evening clutch. Inside was a compact mirror, a lipstick, and a slim, black 9mm pistol. "From now on, you don't go to the library alone. You don't go to the bathroom alone. And you keep this on you."

​"I’ve never even held a gun," Sloane whispered, staring at the weapon as if it were a venomous snake.

​"Then it’s time for your first lesson," Dante said, stepping behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, his chest a solid wall against her back as he guided her hands to the grip. The heat of his body was distracting, a hot-blooded pulse that made her dizzy. "Aim for the center of mass. Don't think about the person. Think about the debt."