Chapter 10: The Devil's Party

I feel anything but strong as I stare up at Dante's house.

The first time I came here, years ago, I had no idea what I was in for. Dante and I were working together on a project for film school, and though obviously I was well aware of who he was - you had to have been living under a rock to not know about the Fontaines - I was less than thrilled to have to cooperate with him on a project. He already had the career, the connections, the esteem - I'd have preferred to work with someone more like me, who had to rely on hard work and talent rather than family or money.

He'd insisted on meeting here, at his home, rather than the much-more-convenient library or coffee shop near campus. It had annoyed me to no end, and the first time I stomped up the steps, I hardly gave his house - his mansion - a second glance.

I noticed it later, of course, for I returned to his house many times, at all times of day - but it never seemed quite as big, quite as impressive, as it does tonight.

Jack seem