Thane sat idly on his desk, eyes burning from hours of scanning papers that made zero sense anymore. He sat there, flipping through pages on pages as his phone rang, breaking him from the circle of work
He stared at it, thumb hovering, arguing with himself for a second before finally picking up.
"Thane," said a voice he hadn't heard in a minute.
Dante.
Of course.
His hand tightened so hard on the phone that it was a miracle it didn’t crack. "How the hell did you get this number?"
Dante sounded way too pleased with himself. "I've got my ways. Look, I’m out on bail. Had a buddy in the system who owed me a favour."
Thane’s jaw locked up. "You’re not supposed to call me."
"Yeah, I know, man. But I had to. I just... I wanted to say sorry. In person. No games. Just talk."
Thane didn’t
