The drive felt too short.
Camille barely registered the city as it blurred past the tinted windows. Neon lights, late-night traffic, people living normal lives all of it felt distant, like a different world she no longer belonged to.
Inside the SUV, silence pressed heavy.
Dante sat beside her, one hand resting near his thigh, the other holding his phone, tracking something she couldn't see. His expression hadn't softened once since the message.
Focused. Cold. Calculating.
Dangerous.
Camille swallowed, her fingers tightening in her lap. "When was the last time you lost control?"
He didn't look at her. "I don't."
"That's not true."
A pause.
Then, quietly, "Not anymore."
Her breath caught.
Before she could ask what that meant, the car slowed.
And stopped.
Camille looked up.
Her chest tightened instantly.
