Chapter 5
546 Words
Arielle
The sound of glass breaking didn’t scare me.
It was the way Dante moved after.
Fast. Controlled. Deadly calm.
He pushed me behind him like my body already belonged in the space he claimed as safe. His hand pressed flat against my back, firm enough to steady me, gentle enough to remind me he was aware of every breath I took.
“Stay here,” he said.
“No,” I whispered, fingers clutching his shirt. “I’m not staying alone.”
His jaw tightened. For half a second, he looked like he was going to argue.
Then another crash echoed from downstairs.
“Fine,” he snapped. “But you do exactly what I say.”
I nodded before my brain could catch up.
We moved down the hallway, his body a shield, mine glued to his back. The house felt different now—too big, too quiet, every shadow suspicious.
A shout rang out below.
Dante stopped.
“Get behind the wall,” he ordered softly.
I barely had time to move before a loud pop cracked through the air.
I screamed.
Dante turned instantly, eyes blazing, fury rolling off him in waves I could feel in my bones.
“Get upstairs. Now.”
“I’m not leaving you!”
He grabbed my face—hands warm, steady, grounding me despite the chaos.
“Listen to me,” he said low and urgent. “Nothing touches you. Not tonight. Not ever. Go.”
Something in his voice broke through my panic.
I ran.
My heart pounded as I reached the top of the stairs, crouching behind the railing like he’d taught me without ever teaching me. My hands shook as I pressed them over my mouth, trying not to make a sound.
Below, voices shouted.
Feet ran.
Then—silence.
Too much silence.
Minutes passed. Or seconds. I couldn’t tell.
Then Dante appeared at the bottom of the stairs, breathing hard, blood smeared along his knuckles.
My breath caught.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, rushing toward him. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s not mine,” he said.
That should’ve terrified me.
Instead, it made my knees weak.
He looked at me like he needed to see me standing there. Alive. Unbroken.
“Who were they?” I asked.
He hesitated.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“They were looking for leverage.”
My stomach dropped. “Leverage… against who?”
His gaze locked onto mine, unflinching.
“Me,” he said. “And you.”
A shiver ran through me.
“This isn’t about my father, is it?” I asked softly.
Dante didn’t answer.
That was all the answer I needed.
Before I could say anything else, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, then back at me.
“We’re not staying here,” he said. “Grab your shoes.”
“Where are we going?”
Somewhere I can keep you alive.
He didn’t say that out loud.
Instead, he took my hand—no hesitation, no permission—and pulled me toward the door.
And for the first time since my life fell apart, I didn’t pull away.
Because whatever I’d been dragged into…
walking away from Dante Cross wasn’t an option anymore.
- Writer
