26

The dining room was silent. It was usually silent, but this time the silence was not born out of fear or anger. It was silent because there were no occupants but Kaela.

She had cried herself to sleep last night, only to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of someone stumbling into the house. When she had looked around and saw that Dante was not there, she became scared. She knew Dante had stepped out of his room, leaving her alone, but surely he must have come back to sleep.

She got paranoid, and she didn't even want to know what happened to him, so she ran off to her room, locked the doors, and hid under the covers. To her, it was a miracle she was still alive this morning.

However, now she was curious. In the daytime, the estate wasn't as scary as it was last night, and she still hadn't seen Dante.

She wasn't worried about him—no, that would be so messed up. She was just surprised that he wasn't present and curious as to where he was.

Her fork made a loud noise as it clattered onto the plate. She had to find Dante, or the curiosity would drive her mad.

A walk through the hallway told her that she was not the only one in the house. She recognized Dante's voice, angry and frustrated, and followed it. She stepped in view of the room he was in just in time to see him toss an object against the wall.

She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped, and immediately Dante looked at her.

The man she was seeing was not the cold, unconcerned mafia boss she was used to, neither was he the evil oppressor who traumatized her daily. This man was someone who was broken, and from the snippets of his conversation that she had heard, he was losing everything also. And now he was glaring at her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, ignoring Vincent's raised eyebrow as he walked forward.

Dante moved towards her so fast that she had to take a step backwards. He was right in front of her now, his hulking frame towering over her, but she wasn't scared. She just felt concerned.

"I... I..." she stuttered.

Dante frowned at the look in her eyes. He knew that look; he had seen it before—in his friends whenever they caught a glimpse of his scars right before his parents switched to homeschool and made him cut them off, in his father's eyes when he failed to complete the mission he was assigned and got punished.

That same pity that they had looked at him with. He hated that look.

"Do I need to remind you, Kaela, that you are to stay in your room?"

Anger flared in her at the way he spoke to her. She wasn't a child, and she couldn't be treated like one when a third party was present.

"I was at breakfast," she defended, "and I didn't see you, so I had to search for you."

"The excuses are useless. Return to your room immediately."

Kaela frowned, looking pointedly at the bandage on his head. "What were you up to last night, and why are you so angry right now?"

"I see a day of liberty has made you forget what I can do," Dante replied coldly. "I said go now."

Kaela swallowed her retort and spun on her heels so that he would not see the tears that she tried to blink away.

Dante saw it though, just before she turned away. He knew he spoke harshly, he knew that she was only asking because she was concerned, and that was what pissed him off the more. He had never done anything nice to her, so why should she be concerned about him in any way? He shook his head, refusing to let any of her emotions get to him.

When he turned, Vincent was looking at him with a small frown on his face. Vincent had heard of the lady that Dante took under his wing. He thought it was just a fascination of his, but from what he could see, there was no fascination in the relationship.