Liliana Wren stared at her phone as it vibrated in her hand, Adrian's name flashing on the screen. Each ring felt like a warning, a final chance to let him in. She could answer. She could try to smooth things over, pretend nothing's changed.
But she didn't.
Instead, she flipped the screen down, letting the call ring out until the car fell silent again.
Dante exhaled a quiet chuckle, his voice laced with approval.
"Atta girl."
Liliana shot him a look, narrowing her eyes. "I didn't do it for you."
He didn't miss a beat, his smirk widening. "No," he agreed, eyes glinting in the dim light. "You did it for yourself. That's what makes it so damn interesting."
As the city blurred past, fading into darker, quieter streets, a strange sense of finality settled over Liliana. She was leaving everything behind—her apartment, her routine, Adrian. There was no turning back now, and somehow, that realization didn't terrify her as much as it should.
After twenty minutes, Dante pulled into an underground garage beneath a sleek, towering high-rise. The place screamed power and isolation—a fortress, not just a home.
He cut the engine, leaning back with one arm draped lazily over the wheel.
"Welcome to my world, sweetheart."
Liliana glanced around, wary. "And what exactly is your world, Dante?"
His smirk faded, replaced by something colder. "The one Adrian kept you from seeing."
Liliana should have demanded answers. She should have been afraid. But instead, she found herself unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out. Whatever this was, she needed to know.
Her heels clicked against the smooth concrete as she followed Dante toward a private elevator. He didn't check to see if she was keeping up—he knew she would.
She stopped just before entering the elevator, forcing him to face her. "Why?"
He raised a brow, almost amused. "Why what?"
Liliana crossed her arms, refusing to look away."Why show me your world when Adrian never did? Why are you even interested in me?"
He just watched her for a moment, his gaze calculating. Then, his lips curled in a faint, almost predatory smile. "Because Adrian wanted to keep you blind. I don't."
Her stomach tightened. "That's not an answer."
He took a step closer, his presence both intoxicating and overwhelming. "You intrigue me. Most women would've run by now. Would've begged for safety. But you? You got in my car."
Her breath hitched.
"You could've answered Adrian's call. But you didn't." His voice dropped lower, his gaze piercing. "You're starting to make choices for yourself. I like watching you figure out what that means."
Liliana could feel the space between them shrinking, the tension rising. "You don't even know me."
Dante's smirk softened, almost sincere. "Not yet. But I will."
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal a luxurious penthouse—high ceilings, panoramic windows, and sleek, dark furnishings. It felt more like a statement than a home—cold and distant, just like Dante.
He stepped inside, beckoning Liliana to follow. She did, still feeling the weight of his words as she took in the sprawling space.
"Nice place," she murmured, forcing her voice to stay steady.
Dante shrugged out of his coat, draping it over a leather chair. "It serves its purpose."
Liliana squared her shoulders, not wanting to lose the momentum. "You said Adrian kept me blind. Start talking."
He walked to the bar, pouring himself a drink. Without asking, he poured a second glass and set it in front of her. She ignored it, her eyes fixed on his face.
Dante took a slow sip before finally speaking. "Adrian didn't just want to keep you in the dark. He needed to."
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Why?"
He placed his glass down, his expression hardening. "Because you were his alibi."
Her pulse quickened. "Alibi for what?"
Dante's gaze was unyielding. "Murder."
The word sliced through the room like a knife.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "That's not possible."
He cocked his head, eyes narrowing. "Isn't it? You saw the photo."
Her mind raced, replaying the image—the dim alley, Adrian with blood on his hands, the lifeless body at his feet.
"That could be anything," she argued, but her voice betrayed her uncertainty.
"It means," Dante continued, tone smooth and unwavering, "that Adrian isn't who you think he is. He kept you close because he needed you as an alibi. Someone to swear he was with them when things went south."
Liliana gripped the counter, her mind spinning. Memories flashed—Adrian's late arrivals, his evasive answers, how he always seemed to be covering something up.
"But the police—"
"Looked the other way." Dante's tone was bitter, his smirk fading. "Money and power don't erase crimes. They just make sure the right people never see them."
The room felt colder, the truth unraveling piece by piece. She couldn't deny the evidence, but accepting it meant shattering everything she thought she knew.
Her voice shook. "Why are you telling me this?"
Dante leaned in, his dark eyes intense. "Because I want to know what you're going to do about it."
The air between them crackled with tension. Liliana realized this wasn't just about exposing Adrian—it was about seeing what she'd do when faced with the truth.
Dante didn't look away, didn't offer comfort. He just watched, waiting for Liliana to decide whether to keep running or start fighting back.
And as the city sprawled beyond the windows, glittering and indifferent, Liliana knew one thing for sure—she couldn't go back to being the woman who looked the other way.