A moment later, my phone buzzed in my hand, the sharp vibration cutting through the silence. I glanced down and saw a location pin. No explanation, no message, just a demand disguised as convenience. I let out a quiet sigh, already knowing what it meant. Grabbing my keys, I pushed myself up despite the dull, persistent pain in my shoulder, forcing my body to cooperate as I headed out the door and into the night.
The drive felt longer than usual. Every turn of the wheel sent a faint jolt of pain through me, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the empty stretch of road ahead. By the time I arrived at the private club, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones.
Inside, the air was thick with alcohol and laughter. Two soldiers stood near the entrance with their jackets unbuttoned, off-duty in posture if not in fact. I found Dante slumped on the leather couch in the back room, his usual sharp presence dulled into something almost unrecognizable. He looked utterly defeated, shoulders heavy, gaze unfocused. For a man as ambitious and composed as he was, it was a rare and unsettling sight.