Rain streaked across the private jet windows in thin silver lines.
The cabin lights were dim now, the low hum of the aircraft quieter than before as the jet finally descended through the dark clouds toward the city below.
Izana sat near the window in silence.
One arm resting against the leather armrest.
The other loosely holding the paperwork Dante had handed him nearly twenty minutes ago.
Unread.
Dante noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
Because Izana never ignored work.
Yet now, the papers remained untouched in his hand while his attention stayed fixed on the rain outside.
The jet landed smoothly.
A quiet jolt ran through the cabin before the aircraft slowed across the wet runway lights.
Dante stood first.
"…We're here."
Izana finally moved.
Slowly folding the paperwork closed before standing from his seat.
His expression was unreadable again.
Cold.
Controlled.
Like the softer version of him from the mansion had been left behind entirely.
Almost.
The cabin door opened moments later.
Cold air rushed inside immediately.
Rain.
Wind.
City noise in the distance.
Izana stepped down from the jet first, long black coat shifting slightly in the wind while guards moved quietly nearby.
Dante followed behind him carrying several folders beneath one arm.
Black cars were already waiting on the runway.
Everything looked exactly the same as every other business trip.
Professional.
Sharp.
Untouchable.
But halfway toward the car—
Izana paused for less than a second.
His hand shifted briefly against his chest automatically.
Like he expected to feel something there.
Weight.
Warmth.
The baby carrier.
But there was nothing.
Just his coat.
Izana's hand lowered immediately.
Dante noticed anyway.
His expression changed slightly.
But he said nothing.
The car doors opened.
Izana entered first.
Dante slid into the seat across from him moments later while rain tapped steadily against the windows around them.
For several minutes, silence filled the car.
The city lights outside blurred across the glass in streaks of white and gold.
Then Dante finally spoke.
"…You're in a worse mood when you leave them."
Izana didn't look up from the window.
"…Drive."
Dante sighed quietly.
"…That bad, then."
No response.
The car continued through the city.
The hotel was enormous.
Cold white lights reflected against polished marble floors while staff moved carefully through the lobby in silence the second Izana entered.
Everyone recognised him immediately.
Not by name.
By presence.
The kind that made rooms quieter without effort.
A hotel employee hurried toward them nervously.
"Welcome back, sir. Your suite has already been prepared."
Izana removed his gloves slowly.
"…Good."
The employee smiled too quickly.
"We also prepared complimentary champagne for your stay."
Izana answered automatically while walking past him.
"…Formula too."
Silence.
The employee blinked.
"…I'm sorry?"
Dante physically closed his eyes.
Izana stopped walking.
A pause.
Then slowly—
his expression darkened slightly.
"…Forget that."
The employee looked terrified now.
"Yes, sir."
Dante rubbed his forehead while following him toward the elevator.
"…You asked a luxury hotel for baby formula."
Izana remained calm.
"…I noticed."
"I can't believe this is your life now."
The elevator doors opened.
Izana stepped inside.
"…Neither can you."
"…Correct."
The suite was quiet when Izana entered.
Too quiet.
The city skyline stretched beyond the massive windows in cold silver lights while rain continued falling against the glass outside.
Everything inside the room was perfect.
Clean.
Expensive.
Untouched.
And completely empty.
Dante placed the paperwork onto the table near the entrance.
"…The meeting starts in an hour."
Izana removed his coat slowly.
"…Understood."
Dante hesitated briefly.
Then looked around the room once.
"…You want food sent up?"
"No."
"…Alcohol?"
"No."
Dante stared at him.
"…You've become boring."
Izana ignored him completely.
"…Leave."
Dante sighed dramatically before heading toward the door.
"…Try not to threaten anyone before the meeting starts."
The door closed behind him.
Silence returned instantly.
Izana stood alone in the suite for several seconds without moving.
Then finally walked toward the bed.
His travel bag rested near it, still half unzipped from the flight.
Izana crouched slightly beside it and reached inside for his gloves.
But something else caught his attention first.
A tiny sock.
Zarek's.
Small enough to fit against his palm completely.
Izana stared at it quietly.
He must have accidentally packed it while Leah was holding Zarek near the suitcase earlier.
The room suddenly felt even colder somehow.
Quieter.
His thumb brushed lightly against the fabric once before he placed it carefully beside the bed instead of putting it away again.
Then he stood.
Business first.
Izana moved toward the bathroom mirror slowly while loosening the sleeves of his black shirt.
Cold composure returned piece by piece.
The familiar version of him settling back into place.
He dressed carefully afterward.
Black suit.
Dark gloves.
Silver watch.
Then finally—
his knife.
The blade rested inside its sheath against the table.
Simple.
Sharp.
Lethal.
Izana picked it up calmly before securing it beneath his coat with practiced precision.
Effortless.
Natural.
Like it belonged there.
Like this version of him belonged here.
He adjusted the sleeves of his coat afterward before finally looking toward the mirror again.
Cold eyes stared back at him.
Untouchable.
Dangerous.
Exactly who the world expected him to be.
Then his gaze shifted downward slightly.
A faint mark remained near the sleeve of his shirt.
Small.
Barely visible.
A pale handprint.
Milk stain beside it.
From where Zarek had grabbed him earlier that morning.
Izana looked at it for a long moment.
Then adjusted his cuff slightly—
but not enough to hide it completely.
And left it there.