CHAPTER FIVE_ THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US
1160 Words
For the next two days, Dante barely spoke to me.
Not in a cruel way. Not even in an obvious way. It was quieter than that. He was just… distant. Like his body was in the office but his mind was somewhere else, running through thoughts he didn’t want to share out loud.
He watched more. Spoke less.
And that scared me more than his anger ever could.
Because I knew exactly what he was doing.
He was trying to figure out if I was lying to him.
Every time I sat beside him typing, I could feel his presence more than usual. His silence was loud. His attention sharp. He didn’t stare openly, but I caught it in moments his reflection on the screen, his eyes lifting when I paused, the way he looked away quickly once I noticed.
Like he didn’t want to feel whatever he was feeling.
I didn’t blame him.
I didn’t want to feel it either.
The office felt heavier those days. Even the air felt different. I spoke only when necessary. I laughed less. I avoided looking at him longer than needed because every time our eyes met, something twisted inside my chest.
Guilt.
Fear.
Something dangerously close to longing.
By Thursday evening, the office was almost empty. The staff had left one by one, their footsteps fading until the building felt hollow. I packed my bag slowly, carefully, hoping I could leave without drawing attention to myself.
I just wanted to go home.
“Sit.”
His voice stopped me.
I froze.
He didn’t look up. His eyes were still on the documents in front of him.
“We’re not done.”
My heart slammed hard against my chest.
Was this it?
Had he finally figured it out?
I turned back slowly and sat down. My hands felt cold.
“What do you need, sir?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.
He stood up and walked to the window, slipping one hand into his pocket. The city lights reflected on the glass, throwing shadows across his face.
“When Keller mentioned betrayal,” he said quietly, then paused, “you looked uncomfortable.”
My stomach dropped.
“You’re usually calm,” he continued. “Too calm.”
Cold fear rushed through me.
Why did he notice that?
“I was just surprised, sir,” I said quickly. “Anyone would be.”
He turned to look at me.
His eyes were sharp, intense but not angry. They were searching.
“People have lied to me before,” he said. “I don’t handle it well.”
“I understand,” I whispered.
“Do you?”
He walked closer, slowly. Each step felt heavy. I nodded, even though the truth burned in my throat.
I was lying to him every day.
Not because I wanted to.
But because I had to.
He stopped right in front of me.
“Aria,” he said softly, “are you here for me… or for something else?”
That question hurt more than anything else he could’ve asked.
I swallowed hard.
“I’m here for my job, sir,” I said. It was the only answer that felt safe.
He exhaled slowly. He didn’t look fully satisfied, but he nodded.
“You can go home.”
Relief washed over me, but it didn’t feel good.
As I stood and picked up my bag, my eyes landed on something on his desk.
A bandage.
Bloody.
My heart jumped.
“Sir… are you hurt?”
His eyes shifted away immediately. “It’s nothing serious.”
“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer.
“It doesn’t concern you.”
I didn’t listen.
I moved closer without thinking. His jaw tightened.
“Drop it, Aria.”
But I reached for his hand gently.
He flinched—just slightly.
His knuckles were scraped, swollen, bruised. Like he had punched something hard. Or someone.
“Does it hurt?” I whispered.
He stared at my hand on his like he didn’t understand how it got there.
“Only when you look at it like that,” he said quietly.
I pulled my hand back fast.
“I’ll get the first aid box.”
He didn’t stop me.
That alone scared me.
Dante Moretti never let anyone touch his injuries.
When I returned, I sat in front of him. He didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. He just watched me while I cleaned his knuckles carefully.
His eyes never left my face.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked suddenly.
“Because you’re hurt.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I stayed silent.
“No one does this for me anymore,” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t be,” he replied softly. “I never said I hate it.”
My heart did something stupid.
When I finished, he stood up slowly. “Thank you.”
I nodded and turned to leave.
“Aria,” he said.
I stopped.
“Don’t ever lie to me.”
I turned slowly. “I won’t, sir.”
He stared at me like he could hear the lie hidden in my voice.
Then he let me go.
I walked home shaking.
The moment I entered my room, my phone buzzed.
Agency: We need the financial report from Moretti’s private deals. Deadline: three days.
My heart almost stopped.
Three days?
How was I supposed to do that without making Dante suspicious?
I dropped onto my bed, my mind spinning.
I didn’t want to betray him anymore.
I didn’t want to hurt him.
I didn’t want to see that look in his eyes ever again.
I pressed my face into the pillow, whispering, “You can’t fall for him. You can’t.”
But the truth was already there.
I had fallen.
The next morning, something felt wrong immediately.
When I got to the office, Dante wasn’t there.
He had never been late. Not once.
I waited. Thirty minutes. Then an hour.
Panic crawled into my chest.
I finally went to the security office. “I haven’t seen Mr. Moretti this morning. Is everything okay?”
The guard hesitated.
“Mr. Moretti left for an unscheduled meeting last night.”
“Unscheduled?” My voice shook. “With who?”
He swallowed. “We don’t know.”
“Was he alone?”
The guard hesitated again. “No.”
My breath froze.
“Who was with him?” I asked.
“We didn’t see clearly,” he said quietly. “But it looked like a woman.”
Something cracked inside me.
Of course.
But then he lowered his voice.
“He hasn’t returned since last night.”
Everything went cold.
Was Dante missing?
And why did it feel like it had something to do with betrayal… danger… or me?
Something was moving in the shadows.
And whether I liked it or not—
I was already part of it.
- Writer
