The figure in the dim light remained silent for a moment, a mere shadow against the marble floors of the mansion’s lower level. Elena’s heart raced so violently she thought Dante might feel it through his grip on her arm. She could barely breathe, every instinct screaming danger, but every fiber of her being screamed to stay by Dante’s side.
“Show yourself,” Dante commanded, his voice low, lethal. “No more games. Now.”
The silhouette hesitated, then stepped forward, and the moonlight from a nearby window caught her features. Elena’s breath hitched. The woman, tall, elegant, and with eyes that seemed to pierce into the depths of her soul, was impossibly composed. And she knew them both, intimately.
“Finally… face to face,” the woman said, her voice calm, almost amused. “Dante, you always
