The helicopter blades cut through the sky like a steady heartbeat, vibrating through Camille's bones as she stared out the window. Clouds rolled beneath them, soft and endless, making the world below look distant and unreal—like a nightmare she had finally outrun.
But of course, nightmares didn't stay behind just because you flew away.
She hugged her arms tightly, watching the morning sun paint the horizon gold. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that none of it existed—the vengeance, the betrayal, the danger, the contract that wasn't supposed to become anything real.
Just air.
Just peace.
Just… quiet.
Then she felt Dante's gaze.
He sat across from her, legs apart, elbows resting loosely on his knees, eyes fixed on her with a focus that made her pulse skip. His hair was pushed back from the wind, his shirt rolled at the sleeves, revealing scars she had never seen before—subtle, faint, but real.
Proof that he had survived things long before she entered his world.
