6
1499 Words
Chapter Six
(Dante POV)
“It’s not her.”
The words settled in the room.
Quiet.
Heavy.
Wrong.
For a second—
No one moved.
Not him.
Not me.
Not even the air.
My fingers stilled against the desk.
Completely.
Like my body didn’t register what I had just heard.
Then slowly—
I leaned back in my chair.
My eyes stayed on him.
Unmoving.
“Say that again.”
My voice was calm.
Too calm.
He swallowed.
“It’s not her, boss.”
The words came faster this time.
Like he didn’t want to repeat them again.
Like saying it once was already too much.
Something in my chest tightened.
Sharp.
Annoying.
I didn’t like it.
“Explain.”
He nodded quickly.
“We tracked the records again. Cross-checked everything. The girl from that night—she doesn’t match her.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
Waiting.
For something else.
Something different.
Something that would make this make sense.
“She has no connection to the hit,” he added. “No history. No link. Nothing.”
Nothing.
The word echoed.
Loud.
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
My jaw tightened slightly.
“So you’re telling me…” I started.
Then stopped.
Because I already knew what he was telling me.
And I didn’t like it.
“…I bought the wrong girl.”
He didn’t answer.
Smart.
Because there was no right answer to that.
My gaze dropped to the desk.
For a second.
Just one second.
Then lifted again.
Cold.
Controlled.
“What about the real one?”
“We’re still tracking her,” he said quickly. “We have a lead—”
“I didn’t ask for a lead.”
My voice cut through the room.
Sharp.
He froze.
“I asked for a location.”
“I—we’re close,” he corrected immediately.
Close.
Useless word.
I leaned forward slightly.
My fingers pressed against the desk.
Firm.
Measured.
“You had one job.”
My tone didn’t rise.
Didn’t need to.
He looked like he wanted to disappear.
“We thought it was her,” he said quietly. “Everything pointed to her—”
“And yet it wasn’t.”
Silence.
He didn’t speak again.
Good.
Because he didn’t need to.
The damage was already done.
I leaned back again.
Slower this time.
My gaze shifted slightly.
Unfocused.
Thinking.
Processing.
Wrong girl.
Wrong target.
Wrong… everything.
The thought should have annoyed me.
It did.
But not the way I expected.
Because something else was there.
Something I couldn’t name.
Something I didn’t want to name.
I ignored it.
“What do we do with her?” he asked carefully.
My eyes snapped back to him.
Sharp.
“What?”
“The girl,” he clarified quickly. “Amara.”
Her name felt unfamiliar in the room.
Like it didn’t belong here.
Like she didn’t.
“She’s not the one,” he continued. “So… do you want us to—”
“No.”
The word came out immediately.
Before I even thought about it.
Before I processed it.
Just—
No.
He blinked.
Surprised.
I didn’t blame him.
I straightened slightly.
Adjusting my posture.
Like that would erase it.
Erase the way I said it.
Erase the fact that I said it at all.
“She stays,” I added.
My tone returned to normal.
Controlled.
Cold.
Final.
He hesitated.
Again.
Mistake number three.
“She’s not a threat,” he said cautiously. “We could just release her—”
My gaze hardened.
That was enough.
He stopped talking instantly.
Good.
Because he was getting close to something he shouldn’t.
“I decide what happens to her,” I said.
Each word slow.
Clear.
Unarguable.
“Yes, boss.”
He stepped back slightly.
Smart again.
“Continue tracking the real one,” I added. “I want her found.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Alive.”
He nodded quickly.
Then turned and left.
The door closed behind him.
And just like that—
The room went quiet again.
⸻
Silence.
I sat there.
Not moving.
Not thinking.
Or maybe thinking too much.
I didn’t know.
My fingers tapped against the desk once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
Wrong girl.
The words came back.
Unwanted.
Annoying.
I exhaled slowly.
Leaning back again.
My gaze shifted to nothing in particular.
Just… space.
For a moment—
I considered it.
Letting her go.
Ending it.
Fixing the mistake.
It would be easy.
Simple.
Clean.
Logical.
And yet—
The thought didn’t sit right.
Not because of her.
That would be ridiculous.
But because—
I didn’t like unfinished things.
And this…
Didn’t feel finished.
My jaw tightened slightly.
Annoyed at the thought.
Annoyed at myself.
I stood up abruptly.
The chair scraped slightly against the floor.
The sound sharp in the quiet room.
I ignored it.
Walking toward the door without hesitation.
⸻
(Amara POV)
The door unlocked.
I heard it clearly this time.
Not footsteps.
Not imagination.
The actual sound.
My body reacted instantly.
I stood up so fast the chair behind me shifted slightly.
My heart started racing again.
Fast.
Too fast.
The handle turned.
And then—
The door opened.
Dante walked in.
Like nothing had changed.
Like yesterday didn’t happen.
Like I didn’t see what I saw.
My chest tightened.
I took a small step back without realizing.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
His eyes flicked to me briefly.
Then away.
Like it didn’t matter.
“Sit.”
The word came out calm.
Controlled.
Like always.
I didn’t move immediately.
Just stood there.
Staring at him.
My fingers curled slightly at my sides.
“I said sit.”
My body reacted before my mind did.
I sat.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like one wrong move would set something off.
He walked further into the room.
Unbothered.
Like he owned everything.
Like I was just… there.
My chest rose and fell unevenly.
I watched him.
Carefully.
Trying to read something.
Anything.
But his face gave me nothing.
“You didn’t sleep,” he said.
Again.
Not a question.
I shook my head slightly.
“No.”
He didn’t respond.
Didn’t tell me to.
Didn’t care.
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
I swallowed.
“I want to go home.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Stupid.
So stupid.
His movement paused.
Just slightly.
Then continued.
Like I didn’t say anything important.
“No.”
That was it.
No explanation.
No hesitation.
Just—
No.
My chest tightened painfully.
“Why?” I asked.
Quieter this time.
More careful.
He turned to look at me.
Slow.
Cold.
“You don’t ask questions.”
My lips pressed together.
I looked down at my hands.
Trying to steady them.
Trying not to show how much they were shaking.
“I didn’t do anything,” I whispered.
More to myself than him.
But he heard it.
Of course he did.
He always did.
“That doesn’t matter.”
My head snapped up.
“What do you mean that doesn’t matter?”
Wrong move.
Again.
His eyes darkened slightly.
Not anger.
Something else.
Something worse.
“You speak too much.”
My throat tightened.
I went quiet immediately.
My chest felt heavy again.
Like I couldn’t breathe properly.
Like the air in the room wasn’t enough.
He watched me for a moment.
Then looked away.
Like he was done.
Like I wasn’t worth the attention.
And somehow—
That hurt more than if he had shouted.
“I won’t try to run again,” I said quickly.
The words came out rushed.
Desperate.
“I’ll do what you say. Just—just let me go.”
Silence.
For a second—
Hope rose again.
Small.
Fragile.
Then—
“No.”
It broke instantly.
My fingers clenched tightly.
“Why?” I asked again.
Softer this time.
Almost afraid of the answer.
He stepped closer.
Slow.
Measured.
I didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
My body felt frozen again.
“You’re still here,” he said.
The same words.
Again.
Like that was enough.
Like that explained everything.
“It was a mistake,” I said quickly. “You said— you thought I—”
I stopped.
Because something didn’t feel right.
Something in the way he was looking at me.
Too calm.
Too certain.
My heart skipped.
“…you thought I did something,” I finished slowly.
He didn’t respond.
Didn’t confirm.
Didn’t deny.
And that silence—
It felt different.
Wrong.
Like something had changed.
And I wasn’t part of it.
My chest tightened.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I whispered.
His gaze stayed on mine.
Unmoving.
Cold.
“You don’t need to know.”
My stomach dropped.
That was it.
That was the moment something shifted.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just—
Quietly.
Deep inside me.
Because I realized something.
I didn’t know what he wanted.
I didn’t know why I was here.
And worst of all—
He did.
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