At first neither of them spoke. Dante simply went on scribbling across the papers spread before him, his gaze shifting back and forth between the glowing screen on the table and the neat lines of writing.
He acted as though Tiberio were not even in the room, ignoring him with such totality that it was almost insulting.
The indifference made Tiberio's temper rise in slow, simmering waves, but he contained it, holding himself still, refusing to show even the smallest crack in his composure. Only when he could no longer keep silent did he open his mouth and begin to speak.
"You took something of mine," he said, his voice low, direct. He saw no point in circling the issue. Earlier, he had been shocked enough to send his men ahead of schedule, far sooner than he had promised, to ensure nothing went wrong, only to find the house empty.
