The dim light in the room cast long shadows over the polished floor, but none deeper than the dark pool of Dante's eyes as they locked onto Avery. His voice was steady, cold, and absolute.
"Remember this — you do not speak to Evans. Not now. Not ever. It's not about trust or friendship. It's about control."
He raised the glass in his hand, swirling the deep red wine as if it contained the weight of his command. "I will know if you do. I see everything. Every word, every glance, every step you take."
Avery met his gaze, the chilling certainty of his words sinking deep. "Your world is not one of friends or enemies — only those you control."
The quiet was broken by the soft creak of a door. Ethan stepped in, pale and weak but steady, his eyes searching the room until they landed on Avery and Dante.
"I thought I'd find you here," he murmured, voice hoarse but steady.
Dante's expression softened, just for a moment, before the cold mask returned. "He's awake," Dante said simply. "Good."
Avery's heart clenched at the sight of her brother — the fragile reason she had made this dark bargain.
Under Dante's watchful eye, nothing was left to chance.
****
Avery stepped forward, her eyes never leaving Ethan's pale face. He looked smaller than she remembered—fragile in the harsh light of the room, but there was something in his steady gaze that whispered of resilience.
"How do you feel?" Avery asked quietly.
Ethan gave a faint smile, the kind that barely reached his eyes but still carried warmth. "Better… thanks to you."
Dante watched the exchange with that piercing gaze, his fingers tapping lightly on the glass rim, the sound sharp in the stillness.
"You must understand," Dante said, voice low but unyielding, "your survival — your brother's — depends on your obedience. Not just to me, but to the rules of this world. Those rules are not written in kindness."
Avery nodded, the weight of his words settling deeper into her bones.
"You will not speak to Evans," Dante repeated, emphasizing the command. "He is a friend to me, yes, but your interactions with him are liabilities I cannot afford. If you cross that line, you risk everything."
Ethan's eyes flicked between them, sensing the severity beneath the calm words.
Avery felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She understood the necessity — the cold calculus of power — but the cost was harsh.
"I won't," she promised quietly.
Dante's gaze softened just a fraction, a rare break in his relentless exterior. "Good. Trust is earned, Avery. And you have yet to earn mine."
The fire flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls as the three sat in a tense silence. Avery's mind raced, grappling with the dangerous balance she had stepped into — between loyalty, power, and the fragile hope of protecting Ethan.
Suddenly, Dante's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping into a quieter, more dangerous tone. "Now, you must learn to mask your true intentions — to lie without hesitation, to deceive without remorse."
He leaned forward, fingers curling around the wine glass like a weapon. "Tomorrow, I will test you."
Avery swallowed hard, the line between pupil and prey razor-thin.
The night deepened around them, heavy with unspoken threats and fragile promises, all under Dante's watchful eye.