The car rolled to a stop outside the Moretti house. From the outside, it didn't look extraordinary—just a large, old-fashioned home with a wrought-iron gate and a wraparound porch. But Ava could feel the weight in the air as soon as she stepped out. The silence here wasn't natural. It was thick, humming with unseen eyes and unspoken warnings.
Ethan walked beside her, steady and unreadable. He didn't touch her, didn't even glance her way, but she felt his presence like a wall of heat.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted again. The Moretti house was alive. Voices echoed from deeper rooms—laughter, low arguments, the clatter of glasses. The air smelled faintly of smoke, leather, and cologne. Ava's chest tightened, not from fear but from the raw energy that seemed to vibrate through the walls.
Mia appeared first, relief washing over her face. "You're here." She rushed forward, hugging Ava quickly before shooting Ethan a look. "Thanks for not scaring her off."
Ethan didn't answer. His gaze had already shifted to Dante, standing near the staircase with his arms crossed, jaw tight. The tension between them could have cut glass.
Dante's eyes flicked to Ava, then back to Ethan. "So this is the friend," he said, voice edged with challenge.
Mia's grip on Ava's arm tightened. "Don't start, Dante."
But Dante smirked, stepping closer. "Relax. I just want to make sure she knows what kind of house she's in." His words hung heavy, the warning unspoken but clear.
Ava straightened before Mia could respond. "I'm aware," she said, her voice calm but firm. "And I'm not here to be protected from shadows. I can handle myself."
The room stilled. Marco, lounging against the wall with a glass in hand, let out a low whistle. "She's got fire," he muttered with a grin.
For the first time that night, Ethan looked directly at Ava. Something flickered in his expression—approval, maybe even respect.
And though Dante's smirk didn't fade, the sharpness in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a grudging acknowledgment.
Ava had stepped into their world, and whether she realized it or not, she had just passed her first test. Or at least that was what Dante thought