DANTE's POV
The small red device blinked between us, almost mocking. Amalia's breathing hitched the second she realized what it was.
"Oh no…does that mean he's here?" Her voice trembled slightly, but I could hear the edge of panic beneath it.
I placed a firm hand on her shoulder, grounding her even as my own blood boiled. "Relax. He's not going to do something reckless. Not yet." My eyes scanned the room, the windows, every shadow. "He's just watching…testing. Curious who's daring to get close to you."
Amalia's eyes darted to the door. She clenched her fists, like sheer panic could make it disappear.
"You think he suspects me?" she asked, her voice small.
I shook my head. "Not at all. He's cautious. Always calculating. He's not going to make a move until he's sure." My gaze flicked out the tinted window. There — a figure, dark and still, lingering. Someone Trevor had planted. The bastard wasn't dumb.
