“Who ordered my mother’s surgery?”
The question hung in the air like smoke after a gunshot.
Dante did not answer immediately.
For a moment, the Mafia King who ruled half the city looked like a man who had lost control of his own shadow.
Aruna stared at him, refusing to look away.
Her hands were trembling, but her voice was steady.
“Answer me.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“You shouldn’t ask questions you’re not ready to hear.”
“I’m already living in your world,” Aruna said. “How much worse can it get?”
Dante looked at her as if measuring how much truth she could survive.
Then he turned away.
“Go inside,” he said quietly.
Aruna did not move.
“Dante.”
His eyes darkened.
“If you stay here,” he said, “you will never look at me the same way again.”
Her heart pounded.
“That’s already
