DANTE’S POV Cara’s glare remained firmly locked on me even as the car pulled away from the docks, the engine humming beneath the car as the silence stretched between us.
“You could have at least asked before dragging me into your vehicle,” she snapped, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
I kept my eyes fixed on the snow covered road ahead, watching the shadows stretch across the pavement through the windshield.
“You would have said no.” “That doesn’t give you the right to make the decision for me.” “I wasn’t asking for your permission, Cara.” She released a long, frustrated breath and turned her head sharply toward the passenger window, opting to stare out into the passing darkness.
For the first few minutes, neither of us uttered a word.
In the heavy silence, the bone-deep exhaustion of the night finally began to catch up with me.
Pain throbbed along the side of my jaw, my knuckles were raw and scraped from the fight, and the metallic tightness of dried blood still clung to the corner of my mouth.
Next to me, Cara shifted restlessly in her seat, her voice dropping its defensive edge when she spoke again.
“Are you actually taking me to my aunt’s house?” “Yes,” I replied simply.
“Then why couldn’t I just ride with her?” “Because you were about to get into another car.” “My aunt was in that car, Dante.” “And I wanted you in mine.” She turned to me slowly, and even without breaking my gaze from the road, I could feel the sharp weight of her eyes on the side of my face.
“You really don’t hear how arrogant you sound, do you?” “Usually not, no.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she faced the window once more.
I stole a quick glance sideways, taking in the exhausted line of her shoulders.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” I added lightly.
She didn’t turn around.
“For what?” “For letting you air your grievances from the comfort of a leather seat instead of making you ride in the trunk.” That brought her head snapping back around, her expression a mix of indignation and sheer disbelief.
“I hate you.” “No, you don’t.” “I easily could.” “Maybe,” I murmured, offering a faint smirk, “but you haven’t yet.” She opened her mouth to shoot back a quick retort, but the words seemed to fail her.
Closing her mouth, she let out a quiet huff.
My smile widened just a fraction.
The massive iron gates of the Beaumont estate began to open long before our headlights even reached them.
As we slowed to a crawl, two guards stepped smartly out of the security booth, efficiently checking the vehicle’s interior before waving us through the perimeter.
Cara watched the exchange through her window, her brow furrowed in thought.
“Have you been here before?” “No.” “Then how on earth did you know where we were going?” “Your aunt’s security team gave the address to my driver.” She frowned, turning to look at me again.
“You have a personal driver?” “Tonight, apparently.” Leaning her head back against the leather headrest, she finally closed her eyes, looking utterly spent.
“This has officially been the strangest twenty-four hours of my entire life.” “I’d say the same for mine.” She cracked one eye open to glare at me.
“Most of which is entirely your fault.” “Now that is open to debate.” The car rolled to a smooth halt directly in front of the grand main entrance.
Stepping out into the cool night air, I walked around to open her side, but before my hand could reach the handle, she pushed the door open herself and stepped out onto the driveway.
A second later, the gravel crunched behind us as Julian’s car pulled up to the curb.
The moment Cara spotted him stepping out, she let out a low groan.
“Oh, God.” Julian smoothed the collar of his jacket, casting a long, calculating look in my direction.
“Couldn’t spare five minutes?” he asked dryly.
“For what, exactly?” “For me to catch up with you.” I shrugged casually.
“You found us anyway.
Congratulations.” Ignoring me, Julian looked past my shoulder to where Cara stood.
“Are you all right?” “I’m fine, Julian.” He gave a slight nod, though his focus shifted back to me with an underlying tension.
“Are you always this charming, or am I just special?” “Only around you,” I replied flatly.
“How reassuring.” Before the air between us could grow any tighter, Cara stepped directly between the two of us, holding up a hand.
“Please.
Just for tonight, stop.
I don’t have the energy to listen to the pair of you measure egos.” Julian pointed an accusing finger at me.
“Tell him that.” “I heard you just fine,” I interjected smoothly.
“Good.” Before anyone could escalate the argument, the heavy front doors swung open, illuminating the porch.
Aunt Val stood framed in the warm light of the entryway.
Her sharp eyes swept over the three of us, taking in the scene before her gaze settled firmly on her niece.
“Inside.
Now.” Cara took an immediate step toward her.
“Aunt Val—” “Inside, Cara,” her aunt repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
With a heavy sigh of defeat, Cara obeyed, slipping past her into the grand foyer.
Meanwhile, a member of the household staff was carefully assisting Danny out of the second vehicle.
Though he looked thoroughly drained and moved with a slight stiffness, he was managing to walk under his own power.
Spotting him, Cara abandoned her path and hurried over to his side.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with sudden worry.
Danny gave a weak nod.
“I’m fine.” “You are definitely not fine.” “I’m better than I was,” he corrected gently.
Carefully raising her hand, she touched his cheek, taking extra care to avoid the darkening bruise along his jaw.
“Does it hurt terribly?” “Just a little.” “I’ll go find some ice—” “Aunt Val already said a doctor is on their way,” Danny interrupted softly.
Cara glanced back at her aunt in surprise.
“You called a doctor?” “Of course I did,” Aunt Val replied smoothly, placing a comforting hand against Danny’s back to guide him forward.
“Go upstairs and get cleaned up first.
You can join us downstairs whenever you feel ready.” As he turned toward the stairs, Danny paused, his eyes finding mine across the hall.
“Thank you, Dante.” I gave him a subtle nod.
“Get some rest, kid.” He lingered for a second, a flicker of heavy curiosity breaking through his exhaustion.
“Did you really shoot that man?” Cara’s eyes widened in horror.
“Danny!
You can’t just ask people things like that!” “What?
He did shoot him!” I looked down at the boy, keeping my expression entirely level.
“I did.” His eyes grew wide as saucers.
“Was it scary?” “Very,” I admitted plainly.
That brief answer seemed to satisfy whatever internal debate he was having.
Giving a small nod, he turned to follow the housekeeper up the stairs.
Cara watched his retreating back until he vanished around the landing, rubbing her temples.
“Great.
He’s going to ask you a hundred questions now.” “I picked up on that.” “He’ll probably ask you how many people you’ve killed by the time breakfast rolls around.” “Most likely.” She turned to glare at me, pointing a warning finger.
“And don’t you dare answer him.” “I wasn’t planning on it.” A faint, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her lips before she caught herself, quickly looking away to hide it.
By the time we moved into the formal dining room, a late dinner was already being laid out on the long table.
Aunt Val naturally claimed the head of the table.
Cara settled into the seat beside Danny, while Julian promptly took the chair directly across from her.
That left the remaining chair right beside Cara open.
Without hesitating, I pulled it back and sat down.
Cara stopped mid-reach for her glass, giving me an exasperated look.
“Seriously?” “What?” “You’re sitting there?” “It’s an open chair.” “There is an entire table of open chairs, Dante.” “And this happens to be the one I wanted.” Julian leaned back in his seat, watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eye.
“Should I move to give you two some privacy?” “Yes,” Cara said instantly.
“No,” I countered at the exact same moment.
Julian’s smile broadened into a smirk.
“I think I’ll stay right here.”