DANTE POV
He saw her—or someone who wore her skin, walked with her stride, and held herself with the same steel-tempered grace.
She'd passed too quickly through the international departures terminal. Just a flash of dark sunglasses, sharp cheekbones, a tailored coat that swallowed her frame, and a presence that prickled every dormant nerve in him awake.
Dante Vale froze in his tracks, his boarding pass crumpling slightly in his grip.
"No way," he muttered, pivoting on his heel and scanning the crowd. She'd vanished. Just like she used to.
He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and hit speed dial. One ring.
"Yo," came the familiar voice.
"It's me."
"Dante. Talk to me."
"I think I saw her."
A pause. "Where?"
"Sydney airport. She passed right by me, man. Disguised, yeah, but the way she walked... You know what I mean. You never forget that."
The voice on the other end exhaled. "If it was her, we won't find her."
Dante clenched his jaw. "Leo…"
"You know I trained her. And she learned fast. Too fast. If she doesn't want to be found, we could search the entire continent and come up empty."
"Damn it," Dante muttered, his eyes scanning the crowd again. Nothing. Just shadows now. "She looked… stronger. But different."
Leo's voice quieted. "She would be. After what we did. After what happened." Dante ended the call and proceed on his journey.
In the evening, at the penthouse that was pristinely still, as if it knew better than to disturb a man haunted. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened to the glittering sprawl of Sydney's night skyline, but Dante stood in its centre like a ghost in a museum, unable to touch anything.
He shrugged off his jacket, tossed it on the velvet armchair, and loosened his collar. His fingers lingered at his throat as if memory clutched there—Sabrina's voice, breathless laughter, the way her presence used to ground them all.
And now… the way her absence unmoored him.
The scotch burned going down, but not enough. He sank into the leather couch, reached for the encrypted tablet on the glass table, and opened a secure line. Leo answered immediately, his face half-shadowed in the low light of his location.
"You're still thinking about her," Leo said without preamble.
Dante didn't deny it. "She was there, Leo. I felt it. I know it."
Leo nodded, but his eyes were tired. "You always know when she's near. You were the first to notice she was missing."
"Because I watched her slip through all of us like smoke," Dante said quietly. "And I let it happen."
Leo was silent for a beat. Then: "You're not the only one who carries it."
They didn't need to say what it was.
The memory came uninvited again—liquor, laughter, the hum of celebration after closing that billion-dollar deal, the night that was supposed to be the pinnacle of their bond. The night they let their guard down. The night Sabrina, drugged and vulnerable, became the victim of all of them.
Dante clenched the glass until his knuckles blanched.
"She trusted us," he murmured. "She was ours. And we broke her."
Leo's jaw tightened. "She was never supposed to drink that night. You remember?"
"I thought one of you had given her something for nerves. I didn't question it. None of us did."
A moment passed before Leo spoke again. "And then… we woke up. Realized. She screamed."
Dante flinched. He could still hear it.
Leo's voice dropped. "I hacked the security logs after she disappeared. She booked a private flight within three hours. I let her go. Didn't tell the others."
"You let her?" Dante shot up from his seat, pacing now. "Why?"
"Because if she wanted to be found, she would've left breadcrumbs. She vanished, Dante. I figured she deserved that much."
Dante turned away from the screen, fists clenched at his sides. "I don't know who I am anymore. We were supposed to protect her."
Leo's voice softened. "She was the heart of us. The Pact didn't just break when she left—it died."
The silence that followed was sharp, final.
But Dante wouldn't accept it.
"She's here, Leo. In this country. I don't know why, but I'll find out. I owe her that much."
"You won't find her unless she wants to be found," Leo warned. "I trained her. I taught her to become invisible in daylight. You know this."
"I also know she carried two lives."
Leo blinked. "The twins."
"She never told us. She vanished pregnant. None of us even knew until later."
Leo looked down. "You think one of us is the father?"
Dante said nothing. His silence was answer enough.
Leo nodded grimly. "If it was you, you'd want to know."
"If it was any of us," Dante said darkly, "we'd owe her more than we ever gave."
The screen dimmed as Leo signed off, leaving Dante in the hush of the penthouse.
He turned to the window, watching the city pulse beneath him.
She was here.
Somewhere in the shadows.
And whether she wanted it or not, the past was coming for her.