Sera’s POV
If hell exists it looks like the tutoring centre at seven in the evening. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead and the air smells faintly of printer ink and stale coffee. Rows of tables stretch out in neat lines, most of them empty, except for the one I have been assigned.
The one where Dante Moretti is already waiting.
He is sprawled in the chair like he owns it, black hoodie stretched across his chest, legs spread wide. A baseball cap shadows his storm-grey eyes but the smirk curling his mouth is unmistakable.
You are late genius.
I drop my backpack on the table ignoring the heat crawling up my neck. It is two minutes past seven.
Two minutes too long.
I grit my teeth sliding into the seat across from him. Let’s get this over with.
His gaze follows my every movement as I pu
