You could scream, but the street was loud and the venue doors had closed behind you. Your phone was in your bag. Your hands were empty.
Then a voice cut through the night.
“She said no.”
Dante stepped from the shadow near the curb.
You had never seen him like that.
Not charming.
Not restrained.
Dangerous in the way storms are dangerous before the first strike.
His two bodyguards appeared behind the men.
The alley went very quiet.
The first man raised his hands.
“Just delivering a message.”
Dante walked closer.
“To her?”
The man swallowed.
“To you.”
“Then you should have spoken to me.”
“You’re hard to reach.”
Dante smiled.
Cold.
“I am not hard to reach. I am hard to survive reaching.”
Your skin prickled.
The men backed away.
One tossed an envelope onto the sidewalk.
Dante did not pick it up.
One of his guards did.
The men disappeared into the street.
You realized your hands were shaking.
Dante turned to you immediately.
“Elena.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“And I heard you lie.”
You hated that your eyes filled.
Not because of the men.
Because you had been walking alone in the dark your whole life, and for once someone noticed the fear before you swallowed it.
Dante’s voice lowered.
“You cannot work for my mother anymore.”
The tears vanished.
“What?”
“It is not safe.”
Anger shot through you.
“No.”
“Elena—”
“No. You don’t get to decide that.”
His eyes hardened.
“You were threatened because of me.”
“Then deal with the threat. Don’t take my work.”
His jaw flexed.
“You do not understand this world.”
“I understand men trying to control my choices while calling it protection.”
That hit him.
Good.
His expression changed.
“I am trying to keep you alive.”
“And I am trying to live, not be stored somewhere safe until men stop being dangerous.”
For a second, neither of you moved.
Then Dante looked away first.
He bent, picked up the envelope from his guard, opened it, and read.
His face went blank.
That was worse than anger.
“What is it?” you asked.
“Nothing for you.”
“Dante.”
He looked at you.
“You should go home.”
You crossed your arms.
“If the note has my name in it, I deserve to know.”
His silence answered.
Your stomach dropped.
“What does it say?”
He handed it to you reluctantly.
Inside was one line.
