The door clicked shut behind him.
Alessia didn't move.
She stood exactly where she was, her eyes fixed on the door long after Dante had left, as if staring hard enough would make it open again.
It didn't.
The silence that followed was thick and deliberate, pressing in from all sides until it felt like it had weight.
She exhaled slowly.
Then again.
Control.
That was the only thing she had left.
If she lost that too, she had nothing.
She turned away from the door and walked deeper into the room.
Every step was measured. Every movement intentional.
The room was large, almost too large for a single person. The bed was neatly made, untouched. The walls were bare, the colors neutral, the design simple.
Nothing personal.
Nothing comforting.
It wasn't a room meant to be lived in.
It was a room meant to hold someone.
Her gaze moved to the window.
She crossed the room quickly and tried it again, even though she already knew what would happen.
Locked.
She pushed harder this time.
Nothing.
Her jaw tightened.
Of course it was locked.
He wasn't careless.
She stepped back and looked around again, slower now.
Not just seeing the room, but studying it.
The wardrobe.
The bathroom door.
The edges of the walls.
Anything that could be used.
Anything that could break.
Anything that could help her get out.
Nothing.
Her hands clenched at her sides.
No.
There had to be something.
There was always something.
She walked to the wardrobe and opened it.
Clothes.
Neatly arranged.
Different sizes.
Different styles.
Prepared.
That made her pause.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't last-minute.
This had been planned.
Her stomach twisted.
He hadn't just taken her.
He had expected her.
The thought sent a cold feeling through her chest.
She shut the wardrobe harder than necessary and turned away.
Think.
Panic wouldn't help her.
Anger wouldn't help her.
She needed to think like her father would have.
Observe first.
Act later.
Her father.
The thought hit her harder this time.
She froze.
For a moment, everything else faded.
The room.
The mansion.
The danger.
All she could see was him.
Standing at the top of the stairs.
Falling.
Her breath caught.
No.
She forced the image away before it could settle.
Before it could break something inside her.
She would not cry.
Not here.
Not now.
Not for them.
A knock sounded at the door.
She turned immediately, her body tensing.
The door opened without waiting for permission.
A woman stepped inside.
She carried a tray.
Food.
Water.
Alessia didn't move.
She watched her carefully.
The woman avoided her gaze as she set the tray down on the table.
Her movements were quick.
Careful.
Like she didn't want to stay longer than necessary.
"Eat," the woman said quietly.
Alessia tilted her head slightly.
"Who are you?"
The woman hesitated.
Just for a second.
"It doesn't matter."
"It does to me."
Silence.
The woman straightened slightly, but she still didn't look at her.
"I'm just staff."
"That means you know things."
Another pause.
"You shouldn't ask questions here."
Alessia took a step closer.
Slow.
Deliberate.
"Why?" she asked.
This time, the woman looked at her.
Just for a moment.
"Because answers can get you killed."
The words landed quietly.
But heavily.
Alessia's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That sounds like a warning."
"It is."
"From you?"
A hesitation.
Then the woman shook her head.
"No."
Before Alessia could ask anything else, she turned and walked out.
The door shut.
The lock clicked.
Silence again.
Alessia stood there, unmoving.
Answers can get you killed.
That meant there were things worth hiding.
Things worth protecting.
Which meant Dante wasn't telling her everything.
That didn't surprise her.
But it confirmed something.
There was more to this than a simple attack.
More than revenge.
More than power.
She walked slowly to the table and looked down at the food.
Untouched.
She didn't trust it.
But she also knew something else.
If they wanted her dead, she would already be.
Her fingers tightened slightly before she picked up the glass of water.
She stared at it for a moment.
Then drank.
Nothing happened.
Of course not.
She set it down and stepped back.
Time passed.
She wasn't sure how long.
Minutes.
Maybe hours.
There were no windows to track the sun properly.
No sounds to mark the passing of time.
Just silence.
It started to get to her.
Not fear.
Something else.
Restlessness.
She needed something.
Information.
Movement.
Anything.
The door opened again.
This time, she knew.
Dante stepped inside.
Alone.
Her body tensed slightly.
She didn't step back.
She didn't step forward.
She held her ground.
"You didn't eat," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't take things from people who destroy families."
His expression didn't change.
He walked to the table, picked up a piece of food, and took a bite.
Swallowed.
"It's not poisoned."
"I didn't think it was."
"Then eat."
She didn't move.
"I don't trust you."
A pause.
Then something unexpected.
"You shouldn't."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then why bring me here?" she asked.
He looked at her.
Really looked at her.
"Because you matter."
Her jaw tightened.
"To who?"
"To people who aren't me."
That answer unsettled her.
"What does that mean?"
He didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not gentle.
Controlled.
"You're not here just because of what your father was," he said.
"You're here because of what he was about to do."
Her pulse quickened.
"What are you talking about?"
He studied her.
"Your father was making a deal."
She shook her head immediately.
"No."
"He was."
"That's not possible."
"It is."
Her breathing became uneven.
"With who?" she asked.
Silence.
Then
"Someone he trusted."
The words felt familiar.
Too familiar.
Her chest tightened.
"No," she said again.
But the certainty wasn't there anymore.
Because now…
She was thinking.
Her father trusted very few people.
Which meant
"No," she repeated.
But her voice was quieter now.
Dante watched her closely.
"You're starting to understand," he said.
"I'm not helping you," she snapped.
"You don't have a choice."
"I always have a choice."
This time, something shifted in his expression.
Colder.
"Not here."
The words landed with weight.
"And if I refuse?" she asked.
He stepped closer.
Closer than before.
"You won't," he said.
"Why?"
"Because you want the truth."
Her breath caught.
"And I'm the only one who can give it to you."
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Because deep down…
She knew he was right.
And that was the worst part.