Chapter 4: Shattered Glass

POV: Dante

I knew the second the air in the room changed. 

One moment, I was navigating Isabella Cruz’s thinly veiled insults; the next thing I felt the back of my neck prickled with a warning I’d learned to trust in the trenches of the underworld. I scanned the room. Luca was gone. Marco was looking toward the east hallway with a focused, lethal intensity. 

And Elara was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” I asked, my voice a low vibration that made the socialite next to me flinch.

“She went to the powder room, boss,” Marco muttered, stepping into my shadow. “I lost eyes for five seconds. There was a distraction.”

I didn't wait for him to finish. I moved through the crowded ballroom like a blade through silk. Every instinct I possessed was screaming. I didn’t care about the optics anymore. I didn’t care if the feds watching the house saw the mask slip. 

When I reached the east wing, the silence was too heavy. I found the study door ajar. Inside, the air smelled of ozone and the faint, lingering scent of Elara’s jasmine perfume. 

And blood. 

A single drop of red stained the white marble near the desk. Beside it lay the emerald clutch I had chosen for her. It was open, empty.

“Dante.”

I turned. Isabella stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the hall. She wasn't smiling anymore. She looked like a woman who had finally caught the king in a checkmate.

“Your cousin has such expensive tastes,” she said, tilting her head. “He’s tired of living on the scraps you throw him from the high table.”

The rage that sparked in my chest was unlike anything I’d felt before. It wasn’t just the sting of Luca’s betrayal; it was the cold, hollow realization that Elara was in the hands of a woman who enjoyed breaking beautiful things.

“Where are they?” I stepped toward her, the floorboards groaning under my weight. 

“They’re gone, Dante. Halfway to the docks by now,” Isabella purred. “But before you go burning down my house to find her, you should probably see what your little bird was hiding in that bag of hers.”

She tossed a small, black object onto the desk. A flash drive.

“She wasn't just a witness, you fool,” Isabella laughed. “She’s the anonymous ghost who’s been bleeding your shipping accounts dry in the press. She didn't stumble into that warehouse. She was hunting you.”

The world didn't tilt; it froze. I looked at the flash drive. The betrayal I expected from Luca was business. But the betrayal from Elara? That felt like a jagged piece of glass twisting in my heart.

“I don’t care,” I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears.

“You don’t?” Isabella mocked. “She was going to destroy you. And you saved her. You brought the viper into your bed.”

“I’m going to kill Luca,” I whispered, looking Isabella in the eye. “And then I’m going to take back what’s mine. If you’ve touched a single hair on her head, I will turn this city into a graveyard with your name on the gate.”

I didn't wait for her response. I signaled Marco. “Call the team. We’re going to the South Docks. Tell them to bring the heavy gear. No survivors.”

……..

POV: Elara

The world was a blur of shadows and the rhythmic thrum of a boat engine. My head throbbed, a dull ache from where Luca had shoved me into the back of a black SUV. 

I was tied to a chair in the center of a damp, salt-crusted warehouse. It felt like a sick parody of the room where I first met Dante. But this time, the man standing over me wasn't a king, he was a scavenger.

“He’s coming for you, you know,” Luca said, pacing the room with a jagged energy. He held a jagged knife in one hand, idly flipping it. “Dante doesn't like losing his toys. But he’s going to find out that you were the one trying to put him in a cage first.”

“He’ll kill you,” I rasped, my throat raw. 

“Maybe,” Luca grinned. “But not before I get what I need. Isabella wants the encryption keys to the Moretti servers. You’re going to help me get them.”

“I don’t have them!”

“No, but you have his heart. Or whatever icy lump he has in his chest.” Luca leaned down, the blade of the knife cold against my throat. “When he walks through that door, you’re going to tell him exactly what he wants to hear. And then, I’m going to watch him realize that the woman he’s dying for is the woman who wanted him behind bars.”

The warehouse doors groaned, the sound of metal screaming against metal. 

Luca stiffened, pulling me backward, the knife pressing deeper into my skin. A single line of heat bloomed on my neck, the sting of blood.

The doors burst open. 

Dante didn't come in with a team. He didn't come in with a plan. He walked into the light alone, his tuxedo ruined, his eyes reflecting a darkness that made Luca stumble back. He looked like a god of ruin.

“Let her go, Luca,” Dante said. His voice was too calm. It was the sound of a man who had already decided everyone in the room was dead.

“Stay back!” Luca shouted, his voice cracking. “I know about her, Dante! I know she’s the one writing the articles! She’s a rat!”

Dante didn't stop walking. He didn't even blink at the revelation. 

“I know,” Dante said.

The words stopped my heart. I looked at him, my eyes wide.

He knew?

“I’ve known since the night I brought her home,” Dante continued, his gaze finally shifting to mine. There was no hate in his eyes, only a terrifying, obsessive clarity. “I didn't keep her because she was a witness, Luca. I kept her because she was the only person in this city brave enough to look at me and see exactly what I am.”

Dante took another step, the light catching the silver of the gun in his hand.

“And now,” Dante growled, his gaze returning to his cousin. “You’re touching my property.”

The shot rang out before Luca could even scream.