Dante’s POV
The scream tore me from a sleep I hadn’t even known I’d fallen into. It wasn't a scream of surprise; it was a wail of pure, undiluted panic. Then came the pounding on my door, frantic and unending.
“Sir! Sir! She’s gone! She’s gone!”
Ms. Rosa’s voice. The words didn’t compute at first. Gone? Who was gone? The mansion was a fortress. Nothing got in or out without my say-so.
I threw the door open, and the sight of Rosa’s ashen, tear-streaked face sent a cold jolt through me. It was like a bucket of ice water dumped directly into my veins.
“Isabella,” she gasped, her hands twisting in her apron. “Her room is empty. The bed wasn’t slept in. We’ve looked everywhere!”
The world narrowed to a single, razor-sharp point. A red haze descended over my vision. Gone. She had run. Afte
