Chapter 144: 40| Vanished

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ Vanished ┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛ : Vanished (Dante's POV) "Dante," Anastasia said. "Anastasia," I mocked, closing the distance between us with one last step. I leaned forward as she held my gaze, bracing my hands on the desk behind her. "You know," she began, "I'm starting to think you come here every day because you love my office so much." "No," I replied with a shake of my head. "No?" she mused, shaking her head with me teasingly. "No," I chuckled, leaning in. As my lips grazed her neck, she eased me away with a palm on my chest. I let out a quiet sigh. "Not your office," I said, "only you." "Oh?" she asked, smugly lifting a brow at me as she loosely rested her arms around my neck. "Oh," I echoed, grinning down at her. When a smile finally graced her lips, and she allowed me, I leaned in to kiss her. She laughed softly into the kiss as I wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her onto her office desk. A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled into our kiss. But the moment it fucking did, the sound of her door opening cut through the room, shattering our moment. We both pulled away frantically as Anastasia hopped off the desk and straightened her dress, turning to face the door while I reluctantly loosened my hold on her lips, standing behind her. "Marshall," Anastasia cleared her throat. Without wasting a beat, once he realized what he walked in on, he spun back around and walked right back out. "In my office!" he called out over his shoulder. "Both of you!" A minute passed before Anastasia turned to me once again. "You get me in so much trouble, Mr Rossi," she sighed, leaning into me. With a chaste kiss, she began walking out. "Come on." I trailed behind her with one hand still locked in hers, even as we entered Marshall's office. "Dante," he said almost immediately, "is there a reason you're still in this office?" Three weeks. Three weeks had passed since our last update on the case; since then, I'd lost all contact with Ethan. He'd promised to find us when the time was right, but after weeks of radio silence, our chances of catching him were bleak. With cases piling up for Anastasia to take, we had no choice but to formally close the case now that it had run cold. We could only assume that Ethan had run off, but far too many resources had been devoted to that case for several months, and the FBI couldn't afford to waste any more manpower. "I'm well aware that you've officially closed our case in the system, Marshall," I told him. "In fact, I'm the only agent still working on it. Unfortunately for you and…" I glanced at Anastasia, giving her a little tug and bringing her closer to me. "Fortunately for me, the files and evidence are all still stored here. I'm afraid I'll be a regular visitor. You should get used to it." Biting down a laugh, she created a professionally appropriate distance between us and cleared her throat. "Anything I can help with, Marshall?" He paused for a beat, huffing and shaking his head at me, then turned his attention to Anastasia. "Updates on your latest case?" "I just sent you my report. I closed the case this morning." "Good," he said, "then I assume you're both now available to handle this." Reaching for the first drawer, he seemed to retrieve an envelope that he then dropped on the table in front of us. It was a black envelope with a red wax seal and an invitation inked in gold that read 'Anastasia & Dante.' For a second, I felt my heart stop altogether. Anastasia and I exchanged a glance. It couldn't be… Could it? But why now? After three weeks of complete silence, why would he choose to come back now? "Did you open it?" Anastasia asked hesitantly. "I thought it would be better if you did," Marshall replied, "since it's addressed to you two." Swiping the invitation off the table, I broke through the wax seal and pulled out the actual card. Same format, same words, same event. The opening of a new art gallery with the work of up-and-coming new artists on display, along with one final show-stopping reveal at the end of the event. As always, it was signed off without a name but simply read, 'Cordially, your artist.' Anastasia breathed quietly, "He's back, isn't he?" Marshall stared at me in anticipation. "There are a lot of possibilities," I paused. "A copycat killer, a simple prank… But it is likely that it's him. It's possible that he's back." "With a new motive?" he questioned. I tilted my head to one side as I fell in thought. "Or just more clarity. He never had a real motive." Ethan had just vanished after wreaking absolute havoc over New York City for the past several months. The first and last time I ever saw him was the night we stayed in Albany. When he never reached out again, the thought that I'd made a mistake and let him slip through our fingertips haunted me. I spent my nights replaying that meeting over and over again. Was there a secret message he was trying to tell me? An answer to a riddle hidden between the lines? Was I missing something? The questions kept plaguing me, preventing me from giving up on this case like everyone else had. I knew the lack of certainty tormented Anastasia, too, but with other cases weighing her down, she had no choice but to return to work and focus on other things. Ethan had vanished, and we were, for lack of a better word, dumbfounded and stumped. "We should go," I stated. My words dropped in the silent room like a ticking bomb. "Dante…" Anastasia said hesitantly. "I think handing this case over to other agents might be better. It's not safe for us." "I agree with her," Marshall said, "you two are better off staying underground for some time." "This was our case," I said, "this invitation is for us." I turned to Anastasia. "Anastasia, if you don't feel safe working on this case any longer, I understand. Trust me, I'm not going to force you to." She stared at me. "Will you go alone?" she asked knowingly. "I can't let him slip away again," I said quietly. "And if I ask you not to go?" she asked. "Are you still going to?" My eyes told her the answer she didn't want to hear. She began shaking her head as she faced Marshall, and with determination, she told him, "No. If he goes, I go." "Anastasia-" She cut him off, "He's right, Marshall. This was our case. We can't leave it open-ended. Give us one last chance to end it tonight. If we can't catch him and bring him to you, we'll both sign off on the case. You have my word." "I hope you both understand that I don't have the resources or the manpower you could need in a dire situation. If you both proceed tonight… you're on your own," Marshall explained. "We understand," Anastasia and I said in sync. He sighed faintly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And nothing I can do or say will change your minds?" "I'm afraid not," I told him. A minute passed and then another before Marshall slowly nodded. "Okay. Then all I can do is wish you both luck. One word of advice to both of you. If it feels unsafe, leave," he said sternly. "Don't act like a hero trying to save the world. Saving everyone there is not your responsibility, no matter what anyone says. My words may be falling on deaf ears but saving Ethan from himself is also not your responsibility. If things get out of hand, call the police and get yourselves out of there. Please." For the next hour or so, we went over our plan for tonight several times, discussing how Anastasia and I would approach the event and, if we saw him, then how we'd approach Ethan. If he seemed armed, guarded, or dangerous to anyone, including himself, in any way, then we were not to approach him, only to call the police for help. If he was compliant and cooperative and approached us first, we were responsible for talking him into turning himself in. In any case, we'd have to call the police when we located him. Tonight's event had a guest list that was apparently longer than previous ones, which meant the crowd would be bigger and the show-stopping reveal would be more grand than previous ones, too. We had to be cautious, and we had to be safe. This could potentially be the most dangerous night Ethan had set up. It could be a trap, and we were going in partially blind, not knowing his intentions. Were they as pure as he acted the last time, or was our worst nightmare about to come true? Had Ethan finally turned a new page and decided to turn himself in… or had he finally snapped? . . . . . Chapter 40 🤭🤭 I, personally, think they're the tropes I do best :p