Nobody spoke.
The underground corridor fell completely silent except for the distant sound of alarms echoing faintly above them.
The older man standing several feet away looked completely untouched by the chaos surrounding him.
Immaculate black coat.
Silver-streaked dark hair.
Cold calculating eyes.
The gun in his hand remained pointed directly at Dante.
Camille immediately understood why Dante hated powerful men.
Because this man carried authority like a weapon.
Calm.
Elegant.
Terrifying.
His expression barely shifted as his gaze moved slowly across the group before finally settling on Camille.
Recognition flashed in his eyes.
Like he had been searching for her specifically.
Dante stepped slightly in front of her instantly.
Protective.
Possessive.
The older man noticed immediately.
One eyebrow lifted faintly.
"Well," he murmured calmly. "That part is apparently true."
Elena's voice turned ice cold.
"You attacked my house."
"You've always been dramatic, Elena."
