Dante’s POv
Rome poured me another drink, the amber liquid catching the light just right as it sloshed into the glass. “Alpha,” he grumbled, voice filled with frustration, “will the negotiations start again tomorrow?”
I didn’t bother looking at him. Just hummed. I wasn’t in the mood to talk politics.
“They’re not playing by the rules, those motherfuckers,” Rome snapped. “Why do we keep following protocol while they get to act like savages?”
“Because we’re not the same,” I replied coolly, swirling the whiskey in my hand.
Rome was still fuming. “They almost killed Scarlet just to avoid accountability. And now they want to drag her back home like a trophy to polish their reputation. Hypocrites. They don’t care if she lives or dies.”
I stayed quiet. I didn’t need to agree. Rome was right.
When we returned to our residence, he paused in the hallway. “She can stay in my room. I’ll crash on the couch.”
“No need,” I said. My tone was flat, but my thoughts weren’t. I didn’t trust him, not dru
