Elara had always been good at pretending.
It was a simple thing, really—smiling at the right moments, laughing just enough to make it believable, filling silence before it had the chance to become uncomfortable.
People liked that version of her.
It was easier.
Safe.
She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, walking a little faster as the evening air cooled around her. The streets weren't unfamiliar, but they weren't exactly comfortable either.
Still, she told herself it was fine.
It always was.
Her phone buzzed in her hand. She glanced down, distracted for just a second—just long enough.
And that's when it happened.
She turned the corner—
—and walked straight into someone.
Not a soft bump. Not something easily brushed off.
Solid. Unmoving.
Like she had just collided with a wall that breathed.
The impact sent her half a step back, her grip loosening as her phone nearly slipped from her fingers.
"Oh—sorry, I—"
The apology came automatically, quick and light, the way it always did.
But it stopped.
Because the man in front of her didn't move.
Didn't react.
Didn't say anything.
Elara blinked, finally looking up.
And for the first time in a long time—
her mind went quiet.
He wasn't just tall. It was the way he stood. Still. Controlled. Like the world shifted around him instead of the other way around.
Dark eyes met hers.
Sharp. Assessing.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Just… watching.
Like he was trying to figure her out in a single glance—and not liking what he found.
Elara swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly around her phone.
Something about him felt—
wrong.
Not in a loud, obvious way.
But in the kind that settled under your skin before you even understood why.
Still—
she smiled.
Of course she did.
"Wow," she said lightly, brushing it off like nothing had happened. "You don't even flinch? That's kind of impressive."
Silence.
Most people would've laughed. Or at least said something.
He didn't.
His gaze didn't leave her face.
And for a split second—
just a second—
Elara felt it.
That familiar flicker.
Not fear.
Something quieter. Older. The kind she had learned to bury so well it barely showed anymore.
But it was there.
And it didn't like him.
She pushed it down instantly.
"Okay…" she let out a small breathy laugh, stepping slightly to the side. "I'll just assume that's your way of saying 'apology accepted.'"
Still nothing.
Weird.
Very weird.
Elara tilted her head, studying him one last time—curious despite herself.
Then she shrugged.
"Right. Well… try not to scare the next person you run into."
And just like that—
she walked past him.
Like he was nothing more than a stranger.
Like her heartbeat hadn't skipped.
Like her instincts hadn't whispered something was off.
Like she hadn't noticed the way the air felt heavier around him.
Behind her—
he didn't move.
Didn't turn.
But his eyes followed.
And for the first time in a very long time—
Dante Romano hesitated.
Not with action.
But with thought.
Because something about her—
wasn't right either. He hesitated at first the man who can control a whole army giving orders without hesitation he was now hesitating before saying in a rough deep voice "I'm sorry" as that he just walks away from her.