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DANTE
The dimly lit hotel room was enveloped in a quiet serenity, save for the occasional hum of passing cars outside and the faint murmur of my voice.
I sat on the plush, dark leather couch across from the bed, my phone pressed to my ear as I spoke in a low, measured tone. My eyes, however, were fixed on Eleanor, who was lying peacefully on the bed.
Her chest rose and fell with each breath, and her silk pajamas clung to her body, accentuating her curves under the soft sheets. The dim lighting from the lamp on the bedside table cast a warm glow on her, making her skin appear even more delicate.
My conversation with my associate was important—critical, even. We were discussing the next steps in the plan, strategizing on how to navigate the upcoming challenges.
But my mind
