Chapter 16 Seraphine
Dante’s hand slipped into mine again — warm, steady, deceptively gentle — and without a word, he guided me toward the entrance of Elemental Veil.
The moment the doors opened, the air changed.
A soft pulse of bass rolled through my chest. The lighting shimmered like shifting gemstones — violet melting into ruby, ruby washing into deep ocean blue. The walls were sleek black glass, broken only by illuminated panels that flared like embers every time someone walked past.
The main floor spread out in a wide circle, packed with dancers moving like they were part of the music itself. Above them, glass walkways spiraled upward toward private lounges that glowed like lanterns suspended in the dark.
It was stunning.
Beautiful.
And dangerous in a way I couldn’t name.
Dante didn’t slow. He kept hold of my hand like he knew I’d get lost in the chaos if he let go.
We stopped at a podium where a sharply dressed manager stood. The man snapped to attention the moment he saw Dante — like someone had just injected fear directly into his bloodstream.
“Mr. Vescari,” the manager said quickly. “Good evening.”
Dante nodded toward me. “She gets full VIP access. Print a card for her before she leaves tonight.”
The manager blinked, looked at me… and frowned.
A small, judgmental twist of his mouth.
Like he couldn’t figure out how I of all people had earned Dante’s attention.
Heat flared across my cheeks — embarrassment, anger, and that old familiar sting of not being enough.
“Yes, sir,” the manager said stiffly. He adjusted his tie and hurried away.
Dante didn’t even look at him.
He just tightened his hold on my hand — like some silent reassurance — and led me toward a staircase lit with thin golden bars along the sides.
We climbed one flight.
Then another.
The noise of the club faded behind us, replaced by a quieter hum — something deeper, heavier, more intimate.
At the top, Dante opened a heavy black door and guided me inside.
The office was stunning.
Dark mahogany walls.
A massive desk.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books and glass decanters.
And the most striking feature — a one-way mirror that overlooked the entire dance floor below.
From up here, the dancers looked like flickering shadows beneath a sea of colored lights.
I stepped forward, drawn to the glass.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
Behind me, Dante shut the door.
“Seraphine.”
His voice wasn’t gentle this time.
I turned.
He leaned against the desk, arms crossed, eyes locked on me in a way that felt… sharper. More focused. Like the man who walked me here was the softer shell — and this was the real one.
“I’m going to be direct,” he said. “Why were you at Obsidian Veil last night?”
Straight to the throat.
Fine. I could work with that.
I crossed my arms casually. “If we’re being direct — I was there for work.”
“For work,” he repeated slowly. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes. Because it’s the truth.”
He stepped closer, expression unreadable. “Explain.”
I didn’t look away. “I’m investigating a case. A serious one. One nobody else in this city seems willing to touch.”
His eyes narrowed. “What case.”
“The disappearances,” I said, pulling my phone from my purse. “Women who vanished after entering your club.”
His entire posture changed — tension rolling off him like a heatwave.
I swiped through the photos and held the phone up between us.
“These aren’t rumors, Dante. These are timestamps, surveillance angles, and verified sightings.”
He stepped closer, studying the screen.
Different women.
Different outfits.
Different nights.
Always with her.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“She calls herself Onyx,” I said. “At least… that’s the name she gave me.”
“And you went with her willingly.”
“I went because she approached me,” I said. “Because she’s connected to the disappearances. And because nobody else in this city is doing a damn thing about it.”
Dante’s jaw tightened. “What do you mean nobody else?”
“I mean the case is cold.” My voice hardened. “Frozen. Completely blocked. No detectives touching it. No updates. Everything filed away under ‘pending review.’”
He didn’t interrupt.
“They’re not investigating,” I said. “And I don’t know why. But I intend to find out.”
“And your boss… gave this to you?” he asked.
“Dumped it on me,” I corrected. “Because he doesn’t give a damn if I come out alive.”
Dante’s eyes flicked upward. “Why would he want you dead?”
“He doesn’t want me dead,” I said. “He just doesn’t care if I end up that way. I’m the easiest one to risk. The one the newsroom won’t miss.”
His expression darkened.
“He handed it to you knowing what happened to the last reporter who looked into it,” Dante said.
I stiffened.
“I never said anything about another reporter.”
“You didn’t have to,” he replied quietly. “You said no one else would touch the case. That never happens unless someone tried… and didn’t come back.”
I swallowed but didn’t confirm it.
“No one in the department will give me answers,” I said instead. “No one in the police force will touch the case. The only one doing anything is me.”
He stared at the photos again, then at me — something fierce building behind his eyes.
“And you think I’m involved,” he murmured.
“I think your club is the last place these girls were seen alive,” I said. “So yes — I think someone connected to you knows something.”
“That’s different from thinking I did it.”
“If I thought you were behind it?” I said, meeting his gaze. “I never would’ve walked in here.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Weighted.
Electric.
Dante stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“Seraphine… this isn’t a story you can walk away from once you start it.”
“I know.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“Then I burn,” I said. “But I’m not stopping.”
His stare sharpened — impressed, frustrated, intrigued all at once.
“And if I told you to stop?” he asked.
“I’d stop listening.”
That made something flicker across his expression — something dangerous in a way that wasn’t aimed at me.
Finally, he said:
“Show me everything.”