The hotel room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Izana sat on the edge of the bed.
Dante leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.
The documents were spread across the desk.
Every page examined.
Every number accounted for.
"…We're clear," Dante said finally.
Izana didn't respond immediately.
His eyes scanned the papers again.
Then slowly, he nodded.
"Good," he said softly.
Dante tilted his head.
"You're not going to celebrate?"
"I have someone waiting."
Dante raised an eyebrow.
"You mean her."
Izana didn't need to answer.
He already had.
Dante smirked.
"…Figures."
Izana rose from the bed.
His movements quiet, precise.
He picked up his phone.
"…I'm calling her."
Dante leaned back again.
"Don't let her see you exhausted," he teased.
Izana didn't respond.
He dialed.
"…She'll answer."
Izana didn't reply.
Not yet.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then—
"Hello?" Leah's voice.
Warm. Soft. Tired.
"…Li," he said quietly, smiling faintly.
"…Iz," she replied, voice small but happy.
"…Still up?"
"Barely," she said, yawn in her tone. "I was just about to—."
"Go to bed?" he finished for her.
She chuckled softly.
"…Exactly,"
He smiled. Eyes soft. Warm. Only for her.
"…I wanted to call first."
Her cheeks warmed.
"…You always do this," she murmured.
"…Because I can."
"…And because you're impossible."
"…Only with you," he teased.
She laughed quietly.
"…That's not fair."
She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.
"…Life isn't fair," he murmured, smirk in his voice.
"…I can't argue with that," she said, giggling.
"…I miss you."
"…I miss you too."
"…Even when you're right here."
Her gaze softened.
"…You make it impossible to focus."
"…Am I supposed to?"
"…Yes."
A smile crept onto her lips.
They fell silent for a moment.
Just watching each other, even through the screen.
"…What are you wearing?" she asked suddenly, playful.
"…The usual."
His tone almost mock-serious.
Her eyebrow raised slightly.
"…By usual, you mean the black suit?"
"… Always black."
"…You know me."
She rolled her eyes.
"…You make it sound like a uniform."
"…It is."
"…For you."
Her chest tightened slightly.
"…For me?"
"…Only for you."
His tone low.
"…You're ridiculous," she murmured.
"…But you like it."
"…Maybe."
A small laugh escaped them both.
"…I can hear and see you yawning," he teased after a moment.
"…I am," she admitted.
"…I can't help it."
"…Then sleep," His voice gentle.
"…I'll wait."
"…You always wait."
"…Always."
"…I can't wait to see you soon."
"…I know."
His tone steady.
"…I'll be home soon."
"... I promise."
She yawned again.
"…Goodnight, Iz."
He smiled faintly
"…Goodnight, Li."
She leaned back against the pillow, eyes heavy.
He watched her. Quietly.
"…Are you watching me?" she asked, sleepy but amused.
"…Always."
"…You're impossible," she murmured, voice drifting.
"…Only with you," he whispered.
A soft smile on both their faces.
Then—
A sudden, loud explosion ripped through the room.
The phone shook in his hands.
Dust and debris exploded across the screen, falling on Izana.
Glass shattered somewhere in the background.
"…Izana!" she screamed, her voice cracking.
The screen went black.
Silence.
Her heart dropped.
She pressed the screen.
"Izana! Answer! Dante!"
Nothing.
The phone wouldn't reconnect.
Her hands shook.
"…No… no…" she muttered, pacing.
"…Please, don't do this…"
She pressed the call button again.
The line rang.
Then went to voicemail.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Panic gripped her chest.
Her breathing quickened.
"…Dante! Answer!"
No response.
Her fingers trembled over the phone.
The walls of the mansion seemed to close in.
"…No, no, no, no, no!" she whispered.
The panic climbed.
Her knees weakened.
She sank to the floor.
Phone clutched to her chest.
"…Izana!" she cried.
"…Please… someone… anyone…"
Heavy footsteps.
"…Leah?"
Her head shot up.
Elias.
Eyes sharp, worry clear in his gaze.
"…What happened?"
His voice calm but urgent.
"…Iz… the call…"
"…There was—there was an explosion… and… and…"
Her voice broke.
Elias knelt beside her, steadying her gently.
"…Breathe."
"…Start from the beginning."
"…I… I was on video call with him… just before bed… and… there was a loud explosion… and debris… and the screen went black… I can't… I can't reach him… or Dante…"
Her words tumbled out in a rush, panicked.
Elias's expression tightened.
"…You stayed calm until now… good. That's good."
"…I can't… I can't…" she whispered.
"…What if he's hurt?"
Elias put a hand on her shoulder. Firm. Steady.
"…He's trained for this."
"…And he knows the risks. Right now… we wait. You stay calm."
"…I can't…" she muttered.
"…You can."
His voice firm.
"…Look at me. Breathe. Slowly. In… out… in… out."
Her chest heaved.
Tears streamed down her face.
"…I don't know what to do…" she whispered.
Elias stayed close. Silent, patient, strong.
"…You do."
"…You've done it before. Trust me."
"…But…" she started.
"…No buts."
His voice gentle.
"…He's alive. He's precise. Controlled. We wait. That's all we can do right now."
Her head rested against his chest slightly.
"…I can't lose him again," she whispered.
"…You won't …I promise you, Leah. Not now. Not ever."
She nodded slowly, still shaking.
"…I just want him back."
"…And he will be."
Elias's voice became firm.
"…We'll do everything we can, but first… you stay here. Breathe. Focus. Don't let fear control you."
She pressed her hands to her face.
"…It's just… It's him…"
Elias didn't speak immediately.
He just stayed there.
Hands steady. Shoulder strong.
"…I know."
"…That's why he needs you calm. You're his anchor."
"…I don't feel like an anchor," she admitted.
Her tone softened, but voice cracking.
"…You are… The strongest part of him. The part that keeps him steady. Remember that."
Her hands dropped from her face.
"…I'll try," she whispered.
"…Good."
She nodded.
Phone still clutched in her hand.
Eyes glued to it.
The silence stretched.
The mansion, still and cold.
But inside her, chaos raged.
"…He has to be okay," she muttered.
Elias's hand squeezed her shoulder.
"…He will be," he said quietly.
"…We wait. That's all we can do right now."
And outside, the world continued.
Unaware.
But inside the mansion—
Time had stopped.
And Leah's heart raced.
For Izana.
For Dante.
For him—her constant.
Her anchor.
Her home.
And all she could do…
Was wait.