Isadora couldn't even bring herself to look surprised as she simply nodded her head and headed straight to his study, where she already knew she would find him waiting. The corridors of the mansion were quiet, the kind of silence that made her footsteps echo faintly against the polished marble floor. Her heart thudded lightly, not from fear but from a kind of heavy anticipation she couldn't shake off, each step bringing her closer to whatever he had decided for her next.
Sitting behind a familiar desk this time around, unlike his usual place by the window where he would often sit and watch the city lights, Dante looked calm—composed in that effortless, cold way that made him seem untouchable. The large desk stretched between them like a wall, the soft golden glow of the lamps catching on the sharp edges of his features.
