Moonlight spilled across Dante's desk, turning everything silver-edged and strange. Midnight, and I wasn't supposed to be here. The house felt different at this hour—too quiet, too empty. But his words from earlier kept echoing: "She can't know yet."His office smelled of him—expensive cologne and old books. The built-in shelves held volumes of corporate law, family photos I'd never seen before, a single photo frame turned face-down. Everything else stood with military precision.The desk drawer slid open silently. Private letters. Bank statements. A folder marked "River Incident - 2015." My hands shook slightly as I opened it.Inside: a police report about the attack. Medical records from his hospital stay. But something was off about the dates. The investigation had begun before the attack happened.The laptop sat closed beside the folder. I'd watched him work on it countless times, fingers moving across keys, screen angled away. Always careful. Always protected. Whatever was happen
Last Updated : 2025-02-07 Read more