Chapter 6

Dante

Julian settled in faster than I expected and that should have been a good thing. Except it wasn’t.

I stood in the living room with a glass of whiskey untouched in my hand, watching him from across the space without making it obvious. He moved around like he belonged there, opening drawers, adjusting things, and placing his belongings with quiet precision.

Most people didn’t do that in a place like this. Not without permission. He paused by the shelf near the window, running his fingers lightly over the spine of a book before sliding it out. He flipped through it briefly, then put it back exactly where he found it. He was careful and observant. He wasn’t just settling in. He was learning.

I took a slow sip of my drink, letting the burn settle at the back of my throat.

“Do you rearrange everything you touch?” I asked.

He didn’t turn immediately. Just adjusted the book slightly, then glanced over his shoulder.

“I put it back where it was.”

“Did you?”

A small frown formed between his brows. “Yes.”

I watched him for a second longer, then nodded once. “Good.”

He studied me like he was trying to figure out if that had been a trick.

It had.

Later that evening, once Julian had retreated to his room, I stepped out onto the balcony and pulled my phone from my pocket.

It rang once.

“Yeah?” Sergio’s voice came through, steady as always.

“I need eyes on someone,” I said.

He paused, “Already assumed.”

Of course he did.

“Discreet,” I added. “No direct contact unless necessary.”

“Level?”

I leaned against the railing, my gaze drifting to the city below. Lights flickered like signals in the dark, some harmless, some not.

“Constant.” I think that got his attention.

“Who is he?”

“Julian Hale.”

There was a longer pause this time “Orabella’s son?”

“Yes.”

A quiet exhale came through the line. “Doesn’t that complicate things?”

“It doesn’t,” I said flatly. “It clarifies them.”

Meaning: nothing goes wrong.

“I’ll assign two men,” Sergio continued. “Rotations, distance coverage. He won’t see them.”

“He shouldn’t,” I agreed. “I guess he can only know you, and maybe Leo. If he notices anyone else, you’ve already failed”

“Understood.” I ended the call without another word.

For a moment, I just stood there, the city stretching out beneath me, alive with movement and noise that never quite reached this height.

Julian didn’t belong in that world, but it would reach him anyway. It always did.

I went back inside.

The apartment was quieter now, the kind of quiet that settled after movement. I walked past his door without stopping.

Then I paused. There was no sound from inside, no music, no nothing, not even the television I had placed in there.

The next morning, I found him in the kitchen. He was already awake and dressed. Already moving like he had somewhere to be.

“You’re up early,” I said.

He glanced at me briefly, then back to what he was doing, pouring coffee into a mug.

“I have things to prepare.”

“Such as?”

“My internship starts soon. I’d rather not walk in unprepared.”

I watched him take a sip, his expression tightening slightly at the heat before smoothing out again. He didn’t complain.

“Why are you like this?” I asked.

“Like what?”

“Independent.” He set the mug down, turning to face me fully now.

“I don’t see another option.”

“And if there was one?” I asked.

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. “I’d still choose this.”

A quiet beat passed between us.

I stepped closer, not enough to crowd him though, just enough to shift the space.

“Careful,” I said.

“With what?”

“With assuming you don’t need anything.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

He didn’t respond immediately.

“I can take care of myself,” he said finally.

“I don’t doubt that,” I said.

“Then what’s the issue?”

I held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

“The issue,” I said calmly, “is that you don’t know what you’re walking into.”

Something flickered in his eyes. It wasn’t fear though”

“I’m not planning to walk into anything,” he replied.

“That’s usually when it happens.”

Silence settled between us again but he didn’t back down.

I stepped back first.

“Finish your coffee,” I said. “I’ll drive you.”

“I can take a bus.”

“I know.” I answered “I’m still driving you.”

He exhaled through his nose, like he was deciding whether this was worth arguing over. It wasn’t and he knew it.

“Fine.”

The drive was quiet but I was sure we were both comfortable. I could feel him beside me, too much. He watched everything: the roads, the buildings, the people, and the activities.

“Why are you thinking,” I said.

He didn’t look at me. “I usually am.”

“About?”

“Everything.” I almost smiled.

“That’s your first mistake.” That got his attention.

He turned slightly, brows drawing together. “Thinking?”

“Overthinking.”

“I’d rather that than not thinking at all,” he answered

“Balance,” I corrected. “You don’t have it yet.”

“And you do?”

I laughed “Yes.” The confidence in the answer didn’t need emphasis.

He huffed quietly, looking back out the window. “Of course you do.”

I glanced at him briefly. He was being sarcastic and it made me wonder what exactly my nephew thought of me. Good.

Let him push.

But that was the problem, I shouldn’t want that.

I shouldn’t be paying this much attention to the way he responded or the way he adjusted. The way he didn’t fold under pressure the way most people did. I shouldn’t be noticing the small things. The way his jaw tightened when he was annoyed. The way his eyes sharpened when he was thinking. The way he didn’t look away first anymore.

That was new. And it was a problem. Because the more he pushed, the more I wanted to push back. Not to break him though, just to see where he bent.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel slightly and focused on the road ahead.