“And if your demons take you like they did this morning?” he asked quietly.
Morana swallowed. “Let’s hope his find mine, then.”
Dante nodded, exhaling loudly, raising the glass to her in a toast. “In that case, I wish you good luck. You’re certainly going to need it with him.”
A grin tugged at Morana’s lips. “That’s how you got him into your corner? Good luck?”
Dante huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, his handsome face coming alive. “Sheer, stubborn luck. I was very wilful back then.”
“Back then?” Morana prompted.
His smile dimmed and Amara’s parting words to him came back to her. She’d called him a coward. Was he? From what Morana had heard and seen of him, it didn’t seem to be the case.
His voice broke through her thoughts, his hand swirling the amber liquid inside the glass.
“I cornered Tristan into accepting my partnership over the years. Wore him down.” He looked at her. “He’s a lot more stubborn, Morana.”
“So am I.”
Dante smirked, sipping the whiskey. “This will be fun.”
Morana let that slide, looking out the window into the castles of clouds, the silence between them companionable as he began working on his phone and sipped that one glass of whiskey. Morana gazed out at the puffs of white, wondering what it would have been like to have a Dante in her corner when she’d been young, looking out for her, watching her back. Would she have slept better at night knowing he existed? He’d almost called her his sister. Would his friendship, his brotherly aura have somehow made everything else easier?
She truly didn’t know. Finding herself suddenly surrounded by people who inspired such thoughts in her, who made her wonder about the what-ifs, Morana both cherished and feared it, like a little colt taking its tentative steps for the first time on shaking legs.
And the fact that these two were now in her corner because of the man they were loyal to wasn’t lost on her, even though his motives were still lost to her.
He wanted her alive. He wanted her with him. He wanted her. Period. But beyond that? Could twenty years of intense hatred, twenty years of focus on one singular reason of survival, twenty years of telling himself “one day”, really be wiped away in a few days? She didn’t believe so. No matter how strong he was, how stubborn, how wilful, she did not think it was possible.
And yet, there she sat, alive. Contrary to her thoughts, he had made a choice last night, a choice antithetical to the last twenty years of his life. There she sat, after being brought back from the edge by him, twice. There she sat, after eating a bar of chocolate he’d silently given her after her panic attack. He watched her like a hawk, claimed her flesh for his own - even with the smallest gestures - and yet he kept a chunk of himself aloof from her, while she kept exposing vulnerability after vulnerability.
Morana truly did not understand him in that moment.
But, to be honest, she doubted he understood himself in that moment.
Taking a deep breath, she strengthened her resolve, promising herself to play it by the ear and trust her instincts. No amount of planning would work with a man as unpredictable as he was. What she’d told Dante had been true. Her demons danced with his. She’d let his lead and follow accordingly.
Blowing out a breath, she unlocked her phone and started checking on her ongoing programs, immersing herself in the place that had always brought her peace, always made sense when the rest of the crazy world didn’t - her codes.
Hours flew by, both Dante and she immersed in their works, changing positions, eating snacks, drinking water or whiskey, stretching, and enjoying the joys of being on a private jet.
After a while, when she changed her position and curled her legs under her the other way, Dante’s voice interrupted her.
“Before I forget,
” he said, making her glance up at him. “I need to warn you about some stuff that I’m pretty sure Tristan is not going to think to mention.”
Morana put her phone down, her curiosity piqued. “Do tell,” she muttered, locking her phone, focusing on the man before her.
He scratched the side of his neck absently and started speaking. “About Tenebrae… well, we have a big property by the lake-”
Morana remembered the beast of the property but she hadn’t seen the lake the last time she’d been there, distracted by the potential murder she’d been trying to commit. God, it felt like a lifetime ago.
“-it’s almost like a compound of sorts,” she brought her attention back to Dante as he went on. “There are a total of five wings on the property, including the main house, all unconnected from each other. The only way to get from one to the next is by going through the grounds, and the entire compound is on one of the hills outside the main city.”
Morana leaned forward, completely fascinated, trying to picture it all in her head.
“One of the wings is where all the staff lives with their families - the housekeeper and her assistants, the gardeners, as such.” Amara’s family. “It’s a huge one.”