The safehouse hummed in a tight silence broken only by the far-off sounds of city traffic. Dante stood at the window, the tempest inside him reflected by the flashing city lights like embers in the dark. His mind whirled, struggling between the foreign pull Elena stirred deep within his breast and the cool reason that had kept him alive. Protecting her had started a series of events he was powerless to stop, and it was only a matter of time until all he had created would be tested.
Steps in front of him snapped him from dream. Enzo came in, his face tense with concern. He had been supervising the guards positioned around the edge to make sure none became overly close. Though their ranks were clearly restless, the safehouse was safe.
"Any movement?," asks Not turning from the window, Dante asked.
"None yet," Enzo said, but the strain in his voice said volumes. Still, the men seem nervous. They find it incomprehensible why we would be risking so much for her. Dante, they wonder about your priorities.
Dante's teeth tightened. His eyes narrowed and hard as rock, he turned to confront Enzo. "Remind them who founded this empire if they have questions. Remind them of what occurs to people who challenge me.
Enzo nodded, while his eyes flicked with something almost reluctant. "I'll see to it they remember."
Dante's eyes followed Enzo back into the corridor's darkness to the closed door of the room Elena rested in. Silent since he brought her here, she watched him with eyes that said volumes yet showed nothing. Their obvious conflict was a silent challenge neither of which was ready to express.
Dante pushed the ideas aside, concentrating on the approach that had kept him on top for so long. His tolerance was running thin and the DiGregorios were engaged in a risky game. He had to act forcefully to remind them-and his own men-why he was not to be subdued with.
Elena peered out at the strange streets from her room, fingertips tracing the edges of the cool glass. She sat beside the little window. The austere and frigid safehouse served as a reminder that she was in his world now, limited by his policies. Her resistance from past simmered under the surface, but doubt bit her will. She had caught Dante's glance at her, equal parts frustration and something else-something that made her pulse beat and her breath hitch.
She shook her head, not allowing herself to become caught in any game he was playing. She had entered this planet to oppose the very forces individuals like Dante personified, to change things. Still, here she was, under his protection, a hesitant player in a power game she hardly knew about.
The door creaked open, and Dante stood there, his shadow shaped by the low corridor light. His presence permeated the room, a constant reminder of his authority.
"We have to talk," he remarked with a quiet, under control voice.
Turning to meet him, Elena raised her chin fiercely. Don't waste your breath if you are here to advise me to stay put and do the damsel.
A flutter of laughter passed across his face, gone as fast as it first showed. He moved farther into the room locking the door behind him. As you are more than aware, this is not a game. You are a weak point in my armor, the DiGregorios perceive as a means of destabilizing me. You are in their crosshairs right now.
Then let me go, she said, narrowing her gaze. "Let me manage myself; if I am such a problem. Up until now, I have managed.
Dante's face stiffened, a muscle in his jaw quivering. "This goes beyond just you, Elena now. Whether you like it or not, your actions have effects beyond what you can observe. You have joined something greater.
She stood, moving across the little area separating them until they were inches apart. And with regard to your behavior, Dante? How many have paid the cost associated with your decisions?
Silence enveloped them, loaded with words not spoken. Dante looked at her, a storm building in his eyes. He understood she was right-that his quest of authority had left marks on his conscience as much as on the city. Admitting it, though, would mean admitting weakness-a trait absent from his universe.
At last, the harshness in his voice softening, he whispered, "You're safe here." "Stay out of sight and don't make this harder than it has to be."
Elena held back her reply, watching as he turned and exited the room, the door closing with a firm click. Her lips opened as though she were arguing. Her heart thumping a pace she couldn't quite quiet, she expelled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when he left.
The evening grew darker, and the air around the safehouse buzzed with violent promise. Dante's phone vibrated, a note from one of his lookouts flashing across the screen. The highly armed men of DiGregorio.
Dante's blood froze. He replaced the flutter of anxiety that threatened to erupt with the icy clarity that had always seen him through. Setting up a perimeter and ready for what was ahead, he yelled commands to Enzo and the other guards.
The first gunshot broke the quiet, then a symphony of anarchy. Dante moved with the deliberate accuracy of a man having fought these wars a thousand times. He understood where to set his guys for best coverage and the layout of the safehouse. But this time there was much more urgency-a life he had to defend outside of his own.
From the window, Elena saw, the noises of the struggle freezing her to the very bone. She was terrified not only of herself but also of the man who had grown to be an enigma she could not solve. Her pulse raced, caught between hiding and entering the fight as gunfire and yells bounced across the walls.
The door suddenly opened and a person shot in. Dante wasn't it. Dark and fierce, the intruder's eyes locked with hers, a predator having identified his target.
" Thought you could hide, did you?," asked The man snorted and approached closely.
Elena's breath seized in her throat, but she forced herself to move, reaching for the closest object-a weighty lamp-and swinging it with all the energy she could generate. The effect sent the man staggered back, a snarl breaking free as he rushed once again.
A shot went off and the man collapsed on the ground before he could get to her. Elena's gaze flew to the doorway, where Dante was staring blazingly with his rifle in hand.
"You're supposed to stay hidden," he continued, his voice hard but the raw concern in his eyes balancing it.
Elena nodded as the awareness of how near she had come descended over her swallowed her. The noise outside stopped, leaving a restless silence behind it.
Dante entered the room and his eyes never turned away hers. Are you damaged?
"No," she answered, her voice more steady than she could have felt.
The instant hung between them, laden with unspoken words. He stretched out, the brief but electric touch brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
"You're not safe here anymore," he stated gently. "We have to relocate. now.
The weight of what had just happened pushed on both of them as he turned and guided her out of the room. Dante understood the combat had changed with every stride; the war outside was far from done. This was about keeping her alive, not only about control or power; it altered everything.
They negotiated the shadows, the safehouse becoming a battlefield in their rear view. But the conflict was really just starting even as they sank into the darkness, watched and waited by the city.