Chapter 5
1415 Words
Elena
Early Evening – Dante’s Estate
The room smelled like leather and wood polish. Masculine. Controlled. Just like him.
Dante stood by the tall window, the fading sunlight casting gold against his sharp features. His black shirt clung to his shoulders like it had been stitched for the sole purpose of making women forget how to breathe. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, veins visible, arms crossed as he watched me.
Always watching.
I hated how aware I was of his presence. Along the wayhe filled a space without even speaking.
He hadn’t said a word in minutes, letting the silence stretch—like he wanted to see what I’d do under pressure.
“I didn’t agree to be taken here,” I said finally, my voice a blade, sharp and defensive.
“You didn’t object either,” he said smoothly.
“I was unconscious,” I snapped. “That doesn’t count as consent.”
His brow twitched, as my defiance amused him. “You’re safe here.”
“That’s what people say right before they betray you.”
His jaw flexed, and for a heartbeat, I thought I’d crossed a line. But instead, he walked toward me—slow, deliberate steps that made the surrounding air ,thicken. Like gravity pulled stronger where he stood.
“You think I’d hurt you?” he asked, stopping just a breath away.
My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it.
I didn’t step back.
“You’re hiding something,” I whispered. “That girl… you know something about her, don’t you?”
His hand lifted—so close to my cheek—but then he stopped short, curling his fingers into a fist. That hesitation made my skin tingle.
“I know more than you’re ready to hear.”
“That’s not your call to make.”
His voice dropped, low and rough, laced with something dark and urgent. “Everything I do, I do to keep you alive.”
My breath caught. “Why?”
He didn’t answer with words.
Instead, his eyes dropped to my mouth—just for a second—but it was enough. The air between us snapped taut, charged with something fragile and dangerous.
Something forbidden.
I felt my body lean toward him before my brain caught up. Stupid. Dangerous. But God, I couldn’t help it.
He noticed.
Of course, he did.
His gaze lingered, heavy and unreadable. I could almost feel his thoughts brushing against my skin.
But then, he stepped back.
Just like that, the spell shattered.
“I’ll have someone bring you food,” he said, walking toward the door, his voice clipped now.
“You’re not going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked, angry and aching. “After everything?”
He paused at the threshold, hand on the doorframe. “When I do… you won’t look at me the same way again.”
And then he was gone.
Leaving me standing in a room that suddenly felt too quiet.
Too empty.
Too him.
---
Aria
Later That Night – Back Home
I burned dinner.
Again.
The smoke detector shrieked, and I yanked the pan off the stove, waving a towel in a panic. The kitchen filled with smoke and failure.
Mom would’ve flipped if she were still alive.
Dad wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t care. He hadn’t said a word since this morning. Just sat in his recliner like the world had turned to static.
“Perfect,” I muttered, silencing the detector.
I grabbed my phone. No texts. No calls. No nothing.
I’d tried Elena. Again.
Straight to voicemail.
I sent another message:
Me: You okay? Getting worried. Please call.
Still nothing.
Something wasn’t right. I could feel it in my chest, tight and gnawing. My sister didn’t vanish without a trace. Not like this.
I opened my laptop, fingers shaky, and scrolled through the news. No accidents. No missing persons. No hospital alerts. Nothing.
But I knew my sister.
And silence wasn’t her language.
Something had happened.
I just didn’t know what.
---
Elena
Midnight – Dante’s Estate
I couldn’t sleep.
The bed was soft. The sheets warm. But nothing felt like it belonged to me. Everything smelled like someone else’s world.
His world.
I sat on the edge of the mattress, toes brushing the cold floor, staring at the silver moonlight slicing across the hardwood like blades of quiet. The silence of the estate pressed against me, thick and unrelenting.
I got up, drawn by some instinct I couldn’t name.
Wandering the dark hallway barefoot, heart fluttering like a moth against glass, I heard it—faint music. Piano. Slow. Sad.
The melody gripped something in me.
I followed it, descending the staircase, the notes pulling me like a string. I stopped outside the door at the end of the hall, slightly ajar.
He sat at a grand piano, shirt untucked now, hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His fingers glided over the keys like shadows, coaxing out the kind of music that made you ache without knowing why.
I didn’t know he could play.
He hadn’t seen me yet.
And for a moment, I just watched him. Unguarded. Alone.
So human it scared me.
I stepped inside.
He stopped playing.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said softly.
“You didn’t.”
I moved closer. “That was… beautiful.”
He kept his gaze on the keys. “It’s an old song. My mother used to play it.”
I blinked. “You had a mother?”
He let out a breathless laugh. “Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t born in a shadow.”
I stood beside him, watching his hands rest on the keys. His knuckles were bruised. I hadn’t noticed before.
“Why are you really helping me?” I asked.
He turned to look at me, his eyes unreadable but deep. Dangerous. “I told you. Some things don’t need reasons.”
“I want one.”
His silence was answer enough.
Then, slowly, he stood.
Closer now. Too close.
This time, I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was soft, reverent like I might break under his fingertips.
“When I saw you with that little girl,” he said, voice like gravel and silk, “I saw something I hadn’t seen in years.”
“What?”
“Hope.”
His fingers slid down—softly—tracing my jaw, then resting at my waist.
The heat of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of my shirt. My entire body reacted, skin tight with electricity.
I should’ve stepped away.
I didn’t.
His forehead leaned against mine.
Close. So close. His breath grazed my lips.
Not quite a kiss.
But almost.
“I shouldn’t want this,” he murmured, voice broken with restraint.
“I know,” I breathed.
A heartbeat passed.
Then his phone buzzed—sharp, loud, wrong.
He jerked away with a low growl and yanked it from his pocket.
“What is it?” Pause. “Now?” Another pause. “Don’t let her leave.”
He looked at me—expression darkening, distant.
“I have to go.”
“Where?”
“I can’t say.”
“It’s about her, isn’t it?”
He didn’t answer.
But I knew.
And when the door slammed behind him, I was already moving.
Because I wasn’t just a victim in this story.
I was going to find out what the hell he was hiding.
---
Aria
Meanwhile – City Streets
I knew it was stupid.
Wandering the streets of Rome at night? Armed with nothing but instinct and worry? I should’ve stayed home.
But I couldn’t.
Not with Elena still missing.
I clutched her spare keychain—something small, familiar. My thumb ran over the worn metal as I walked, eyes scanning every corner, every shadow.
“Where are you?” I whispered.
Then—I saw him.
A tall man in black stepped
from a sleek car, face half-hidden beneath a hat, posture tense. He wasn’t just loitering. He was watching something—or someone.
I followed his line of sight.
And froze.
Elena.
She was standing on a balcony, moonlight spilling over her like she belonged to another world.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?
And why did I feel like this was only the beginning?
- Writer
