EPISODE 16: THE GIRL WITH GLASSES
1377 Words
The mansion felt different that night.
Not louder.
Not stricter.
Worse.
Quieter.
The kind of quiet that happened before storms broke windows.
Diana noticed it immediately the moment she stepped through the front doors of the Dragon’s Den. Guards who normally avoided eye contact now watched her carefully. Conversations stopped when she walked past. Even the staff moved differently, tense shoulders hidden beneath polite smiles.
News traveled fast inside places built on fear.
A traitor was being hunted.
And everyone knew suspicion poisoned rooms faster than bullets.
Diana kept her expression calm as she walked beside Dante through the grand hallway.
“You should sleep early tonight,” he said casually, loosening the cuffs of his black shirt. “Tomorrow will be annoying.”
“That sounds inspiring.”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
She glanced sideways at him.
“Should I ask why tomorrow is annoying?”
“You’re attending meetings with me.”
Diana nearly stopped walking.
“Why?”
Dante looked genuinely unimpressed by the question.
“Because you’re my assistant.”
“I thought my role mostly involved coffee and surviving threats.”
“Today we’re upgrading your responsibilities.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“For you? Usually.”
He continued upstairs without another explanation.
Diana watched his back suspiciously.
Something was off.
Not in the obvious way.
Not violence.
Not rage.
Just… attention.
Since the study incident, Dante had started pulling her closer into his world instead of pushing her away.
That should’ve terrified her more than it did.
—
By midnight, rain hammered against the mansion windows again.
Diana sat cross-legged on her bed wearing an oversized shirt, a file open across her lap while she pretended to review tomorrow’s schedule.
In reality, she hadn’t absorbed a single word.
Her mind kept replaying one thing.
"Someone inside the mansion has been leaking movement schedules."
It complicated everything.
If the leak was real, then someone else inside Dante’s circle was working against him.
If it was fake…
Then Dante might already suspect her and be laying bait.
Neither possibility was comforting.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
Diana’s hand instinctively moved beneath her pillow toward the thin blade hidden there.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Emily.”
The maid from breakfast.
Diana hesitated before opening the door slightly.
Emily stood outside holding a silver tray with tea and small pastries. She looked nervous enough to drop everything.
“Marcus said you skipped dinner,” the girl said quietly. “I thought maybe you were hungry.”
Diana blinked once.
Nobody had brought her food before.
Not without orders.
“That’s… surprisingly kind.”
Emily smiled awkwardly.
“You’re nicer than the others.”
Diana nearly laughed at that.
If only she knew.
She stepped aside quietly.
Emily entered carefully, glancing around the room like she expected hidden cameras.
Honestly, she probably wasn’t wrong.
“You’ve worked here long?” Diana asked casually.
“Three years.”
“And you survived Marcus for all three?”
Emily giggled softly before immediately looking guilty for making noise.
Diana studied her.
Young.
Maybe nineteen.
Too innocent for this mansion.
“Can I ask you something?” Emily whispered suddenly.
“That depends.”
The maid lowered her voice further.
“Are you really dating Mr. Dante?”
Diana choked slightly on her tea.
“What?”
“The staff keeps arguing about it downstairs.”
“…Why would they think that?”
Emily stared at her like the answer was obvious.
“Because he likes you.”
Diana almost laughed again.
Almost.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not really.”
Emily sat carefully at the edge of the chair.
“He notices things about you.”
Diana’s stomach tightened slightly.
Dangerous topic.
“He notices everyone.”
“No,” Emily said immediately. “Not like this.”
Again.
That phrase.
Not like this.
The maid tucked loose hair behind her ear nervously.
“Mr. Dante usually ignores people unless they’re useful. But with you…” She hesitated. “He watches whether you eat.”
Diana froze.
Emily continued quietly, unaware of the effect her words had.
“He remembers how you take your tea. Yesterday he yelled at one of the chefs because they put mushrooms in your lunch.”
Diana stared at her.
“That happened?”
Emily nodded quickly.
“He said mushrooms make you grumpy.”
Silence.
A strange silence.
Not dramatic.
Not romantic.
Just unsettlingly personal.
Diana looked down at her untouched tea.
Nobody had remembered small things about her before.
Not genuinely.
The Night Owl taught survival, obedience, efficiency.
Not care.
Emily stood suddenly.
“I should go before Marcus catches me gossiping.”
Smart girl.
As she reached the door, she paused.
Then looked back carefully.
“Miss Diana…”
“Yes?”
The maid’s expression shifted slightly.
More serious now.
“Be careful in the west wing.”
Diana’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s in the west wing?”
Emily looked genuinely frightened for the first time.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But people disappear after going there.”
Before Diana could ask more, Emily hurried out quickly.
The door shut softly behind her.
Diana sat motionless for several seconds.
West wing.
Again.
Something important was hidden there.
And now she wanted to know even more.
Which was exactly the problem.
Curiosity got people killed here.
—
At 2:13 AM, Diana gave up trying to sleep.
The mansion was silent except for distant thunder outside.
Carefully, she slipped from her room barefoot, moving quietly through the dark hallways.
Not toward the west wing.
Not yet.
Tonight she just needed air.
The balcony overlooking the eastern gardens was empty when she stepped outside. Cold wind immediately wrapped around her loose hair.
Finally.
Silence without eyes watching her.
She leaned against the stone railing, breathing slowly.
The city lights glowed faintly in the distance beneath the rain.
For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to feel tired.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Tired of lying.
Tired of pretending.
Tired of constantly wondering whether Dante saw through her completely.
“You have a terrible habit of wandering at night.”
Diana closed her eyes briefly.
Of course.
She turned slowly.
Dante stood near the doorway wearing black sweatpants and a dark long-sleeved shirt, his hair slightly messy like he’d just woken up.
Or maybe never slept either.
“You stalking me now?” she asked lightly.
“You’re standing on my balcony.”
“Fair point.”
He walked closer, stopping beside her at the railing.
Neither spoke for a while.
The rain smelled clean tonight.
“You hate sleeping,” Dante said eventually.
Diana glanced sideways.
“That’s a random accusation.”
“You only pace when your mind is loud.”
Again with the observations.
“You always analyze people at two in the morning?”
“Only the suspicious ones.”
She rolled her eyes slightly.
“Am I suspicious tonight?”
“You broke into my study yesterday.”
“…Still holding onto that?”
“I’m considering framing the lock.”
A quiet laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
Dante looked at her immediately.
And there it was again.
That strange shift in his expression whenever she forgot to act.
“You laugh differently when it’s real,” he said softly.
Diana’s smile faded a little.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous territory.
She looked away toward the rain again.
“You notice too much.”
“And you reveal too little.”
For once, his voice held no teasing.
Just honesty.
Raw and quiet.
The air between them changed subtly.
Not romantic.
Not safe.
Just… close.
Diana became suddenly aware of how near he was standing.
Close enough that she could feel warmth through the cold air.
Close enough that if she turned her head—
No.
Absolutely not.
“You should sleep,” she said quietly.
Dante didn’t move.
“So should you.”
Neither left.
The thunder rolled softly overhead while Oakhaven slept beneath the storm.
And somewhere deep inside the Dragon’s Den—
Two dangerous people stood side-by-side pretending they weren’t becoming curious about each other in ways that could destroy them both.
..
..
TBC..
- Writer
