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Emma Frost had endured precisely one day worse than the day she had first met Dante. The day the phone call came about Christian. Her brother died by his own hand because their father couldn't stomach having a gay son. Winston Frost's cruelty had driven him to that final, irreversible choice.
After that, she had amassed enough fortune to buy small nations, seized influence across many corporations and political offices, and taken significant power in Hellmoon Club—a secret mutants' society.
But all of that had meant absolutely nothing in front of one man.
Today, he came again and occupied the comfiest chair in her private room. The platinum-haired burglar, Felicia Hardy, leaned comfortably against him on his lap. She was unbothered by the way Dante's wrapped around her waist.
The little thief had come a long way from the terrified girl Emma had cornered.
Now, she could only endure Felicia's smug smirk without retaliating. She had extended her telepathic senses reflexively upon their arrival. Like Dante, Felicia's mind was also a void. The girl wasn't an open book anymore as her mental defenses had been fortified greatly. She could still break into Felicia's mind, but doing so would require focus and time.
'It must be his doing, but how did he achieve it? I should've kept tabs on his movements.'
After their disastrous first meeting, she had decided avoidance to be wisest. Never antagonize the man who could kill with a thought. Never draw his attention. Let him play in his sphere while she manages hers.
Her passiveness had come back to bite her in the ass.
Dante hadn't spoken a single word since he walked through the door. He simply watched her with unnervingly calm eyes while Felicia Hardy played the role of bullied woman now empowered by her man's protection.
The little bitch was savoring every second of this reversal.
This silence stretched and stretched like a bowstring being pulled to its breaking point. Emma refused to fidget, refused to adjust her white suit jacket or smooth her platinum hair. She had learned long ago that the first person to speak revealed weakness.
The strategy wouldn't work on these two… They had nowhere to be, unlike her, who had to manage many things.
"Felicia, darling," Emma said, injecting the warmth of the girl next door into her voice. "How have you been treating yourself?"
Felicia shuddered and nuzzled against Dante's shoulder. "Darling, I'm scared… Can we please leave?"
Emma nearly rolled her eyes. She had never seen more fake acting. The girl was blatantly mocking her at this point.
"Please, darling. I've been inside your head. I know what's beneath the fur. The man you're with… he is wiser than to fall for such… performance."
"Emma Frost." Dante's voice was cold, unlike their last meeting. "Breaking into Felicia's room and manipulating her into doing your dirty work is beneath someone of your status, isn't it?"
Dante was really here for the night she coerced Felicia.
"A thief's room, darling." Emma's nail tapped her armrest, a sweet smile on her face. "When she returned to the dorm room, you were nothing to her. Just another pretty face."
Dante grabbed Felicia's thigh to draw her closer. "She's mine now. And you traumatized her."
Emma chuckled as she eased back in her seat, crossing her legs with elegance. "How dramatic, Dear. Felicia and I only negotiated a mutually beneficial transaction."
"A deal you forced onto her," Dante corrected in a sharp tone. "Coercion invalidates consent. My girlfriend was harassed, coerced, and manipulated. Nothing you say will change that fact."
Emma knew this man possessed too much intelligence and calculation to seek petty revenge for Felicia's wounded feelings, which was also an act. Felicia was far more resilient than this.
This all pointed to one possibility—Dante was building an elaborate trap, though his goals were yet to be revealed.
"Let's pretend your grievances are reasonable. What do you want me to do?"
She decided to accelerate past the foreplay. Playing games with someone as dangerous as him wasn't fun. She would delightfully relish having an upper hand against the weak rather than walk on eggshells against the strong.
"Someone has to take responsibility. My justice comes at the price of death." Dante propped an elbow on the armrest and rested his face against his knuckles. Smiling faintly, he continued, "Someone's head needs to roll."
Emma felt the temperature drop, yet a droplet of sweat trailed down her cheek. "Death in exchange for mental trauma? Darling, you aren't making any sense."
He laughed condescendingly. "Do I have to?"
Emma froze. No, he had no reason to. She had her fair share of forcing people in helpless situations. Felicia was the most recent one. Today, she was on the other side of this treatment, and the man was blatantly letting her know about it.
That everything she had built meant nothing to him. He could kill whenever he wanted.
"I'll make it easier for you. Your bodyguard was present in Felicia's room. She stood by and watched you abuse your powers. Complicity in a crime makes one equally guilty." He motioned with his open palm in the age-old 'hand it over' gesture. "Let me appease Felicia with her head."
Felicia wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Darling, you're the best."
Emma's heart lurched as her fingers dug into her armrest.
'Kwannon.'
One of the few people in Emma's life who treated her as a friend rather than a queen to be feared or a weak woman to be exploited. Kwannon had followed her loyally ever since their fateful encounter.
"No."
The word came out firmer than Emma intended as if it was her final decision.
Dante tilted his head slightly, as though he hadn't quite heard correctly. "What did you say?"
"She said no," Felicia replied in a trembling voice before she buried her face in his shoulder. "Darling, maybe we shouldn't… she is powerful and wealthy. I-I can live with this pain. Let's just… go home."
By the end, Felicia had become a sobbing mess as if she was reliving a traumatizing memory. Dante soothingly rubbed her back while whispering comforting words.
Emma's stomach churned at the shameless display. But she had to applaud that this was an Oscar-winning level of melodrama.
When nothing seemed to work, Dante's gaze swiveled toward Emma, and the atmosphere in the room changed. That sensation of impending death wrapped its arms around her. She could feel Death's scythe suspended above her neck, ready to decide her fate at a moment's notice.
This time, the pressure was on a different level—either he had grown exponentially stronger, or acquired better control over his powers.
"It's a simple choice, Emma." Dante's voice showed no emotion, which somehow made it infinitely worse. "Your head or your bodyguard's. Choose wisely."
Emma ground her teeth together hard enough that her jaw visibly clenched to both her guests. "Dear, you're traumatizing your little kitten. Surely that defeats the purpose of this?"
Dante glanced at Felicia, whose face had drained of color in the field of his domain. Yet she clung to him.
"Don't mind me."
Something resembling approval flickered across his features as he caressed her face. "Emma, you have ten seconds to make your decision. Choose one, or I'll pick both."
"You're going too far, Darling." Emma rose from her chair, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You've already stripped me naked once in this club. I won't bend to your threats again."
She had dedicated her entire adult life to ensuring no one could ever reduce her to that helpless, crying girl she once was. So that anyone trying to control her would regret their existence.
This man had pushed her to a breaking point.
"It's your choice."
Emma sat back down and crossed her legs elegantly. She appeared fearless, smiling as if she had been enlightened. "My late brother's death is a reminder that you can shatter a diamond, but you cannot bend it."
She took a deep breath. "I won't be your little bitch. So kill me, darling, but know this: the White Queen will not sacrifice a friend or kneel to you."
Silence fell with her answer.
Emma reclined in her chair and waited. She felt nothing at the moment as if all her emotions had been… purged. Finding peace with death was a strange state to be in.
Contrary to her expectations, Dante laughed. "Good. You have guts and some semblance of loyalty."
The laughter broke her trance. Her mind raced up to the present.
'A test. He was testing me.'
The calm winds turned into a raging tornado.
"You bastard," Emma hissed. "Testing me? Do you take me for a desperate prostitute on the street?"
Dante watched her with a calm gaze. The pressure around him had lifted. "Why are you so mad? Didn't you put Felicia through a similar situation?"
As she recalled that day, Emma's emotions only grew more erratic. Although it was a different situation, she had exerted utter dominance while making Felicia powerless.
Without that strange trance she felt… her fingers tremble. She had stood in the face of death without flinching.
She took a slow breath and walked to the fridge to pour herself a drink. The cold, sharp taste gave her mind some clarity and put a lid on her anger.
'He needs something from me.'
That meant leverage. That meant negotiation. That meant she wasn't helpless after all.
"Let me educate you on Emma Frost's worth." As she put down the glass, a grin spread on her face. She walked to the desk and spun the globe. "Frost International is a multibillion-dollar conglomerate with interests in electronics, transportation, aerospace, and shipping. Every decision moves economies." She leaned against the desk and examined her nails. "My current net worth sits between five and eleven billion, depending on market fluctuations."
She always took pleasure in boasting about her wealth. She had to rub in Dante's face as he lived on the scraps of a small nation's queen. Quite impressive, still, because it was a perfect cover to hide his identity, but he was doing a terrible job at staying low profile.
Felicia whistled. "Darling, we should've just asked for a billion."
Greedy… as expected of a thief's daughter.
"Impressive," Dante said apathetically. "I don't remember asking it though."
"I'm not finished," Emma continued with a cold smile. "The Hellmoon Club—the real power brokers of this world—admits only the wealthiest and most influential individuals. I'm not just a member of this club, I'm their White Queen… to top it all off, I'm an Omega-level telepath."
"Who asked—"
"I am, by every objective measurement, a perfect ally." She crossed her arms and pinned him with a sharp gaze. "Dear, what gives you the right to test Emma Frost?"
"All that wealth and power will mean nothing if you had sacrificed your friend to save yourself." Dante chuckled. "What matters isn't the present, but where I'll be in the future… and whether you choose to stand on my side or against me."
The message was clear: Stand with me and flourish. Stand against me and perish.
Emma covered her mouth and laughed. She laughed until all her grievances had become nothing. Then, she looked at him with a predatory smirk. "An alliance between us will be like a Roman Empire signing an equal pact with a small village. Tell me a reason it isn't so."
Felicia lazily looked at Emma. "Is she high? We have her life on leash."
Dante gently pinched her thigh. "An alliance built on threats will crash. It has to benefit both parties."
"Uh… Yeah, I forgot she is a businesswoman." Felicia sighed. "I'd totally sign a one-sided agreement with Darling."
Emma flipped her palm and motioned to Felicia. "Thieves move to the scent of gold. Sharks move to the scent of blood. I'll bring my wealth, influence, and my telepathy to the table. What about you? What value can you provide?"
Emma Frost knew his ability was great, but she had her own telepathy to get rid of any nuisance. Only a few people could defeat her. She couldn't care less about his other prospects. So what if he was the most dashing man on earth? So what if he had the charm to court Symkaria's queen?
It all meant nothing to Emma Frost.
***
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