The moment they stepped back into Anastasia's room, the low hum of the estate's central heating seemed louder, as if mirroring the tension that wrapped around the air like a tightly drawn cord. Dante's tall figure moved with fluid command as he reached for his phone, casually unlocking it before connecting a small, encrypted device.
With a few practiced motions, he uploaded the digital scans of the blueprint into his secure cloud. The blue glow from his screen reflected off the sharp angles of his face, making his sculpted features appear more intimidating in the dim lighting. He wasn't just taking the blueprint—he was claiming it, the same way he had claimed her world.
Anastasia stepped toward the door, her voice even, but distant. "I think we should get going."
Dante's low chuckle stopped her cold. "I want us to spend the night here."
She turned slightly, one brow arching in confusion and suspicion. "We have work tomorrow, Dante."
