Alessia's POV
I watched as Mulch stepped forward, his gaze locked on the Rolls-Royce parked like a damn jewel in the middle of our rundown neighborhood. His face twisted with something close to recognition, but he said nothing.
Elena and I exchanged a glance.
"Do you think he knows who's inside?" I murmured.
She shrugged. "Who the hell drives a Rolls-Royce here, though?"
I sighed. "Someone who doesn't care about getting robbed."
After a moment, I rubbed my eyes, exhaustion creeping up my spine. Three hours of sleep a night was killing me, and my stomach felt hollow.
"I need food and sleep. I'm heading up."
Elena gave me a pointed look. "You better not forget about rent this time."
Rolling my eyes, I patted my pocket. "Dropped it in your room already."
She smirked. "I knew there was a reason I still kept you around."
I flipped her off and climbed the stairs, every muscle in my body screaming for rest. Inside, I wolfed down some food, barely tasting it before collapsing into bed.
...
The pounding on my door jolted me awake.
"What the hell?" I groaned, rubbing my eyes.
Was Elena seriously going to disturb my sleep?
The knocking got louder.
I groaned louder. "Elena, if this isn't a life-or-death situation, I swear—"
Then, I heard the voice.
"Hey," the deep rasp came through the door.
I froze. Dante?
My pulse kicked up. What the hell was he doing here?
"Who's there?" I asked, playing dumb.
"Just open the damn door," he hissed.
I snorted. "Then you're gonna be standing there for a lifetime."
A pause. Then, his voice came softer, "Please. Just open up. Shit."
The word please almost threw me off, but I didn't hesitate.
The moment I opened the door, Dante shoved his way in, slamming it behind him. He barely acknowledged me before darting to the darkest corner of my room.
"What the f—"
Before I could finish, another knock, this time sharper, more official.
"FBI! Open up!"
My stomach flipped.
Through the peephole, I saw them, agents in dark suits, a couple of uniformed officers.
I turned slowly. Dante stood still, his breathing controlled but his eyes dark with something lethal.
I cracked the door slightly. "Can I help you?"
A man with graying hair and sharp eyes held up a photo. Dante's photo.
"Have you seen this man?"
I pretended to squint. "Nope."
"He was spotted entering this building."
I gave them my best unimpressed look. "So? A lot of people come in and out of here."
The agent's jaw twitched. "Miss, if you're hiding a fugitive—"
"I'm not." I crossed my arms. "Now, unless you have a warrant, I'd like to go back to sleep."
There was a long pause.
Then, finally, he nodded at his men. "Let's go."
I shut the door and turned back. Dante stepped out of his hiding spot, eyes darting around.
"What the hell was that?" I snapped. "Barging into my room? Our apartment?"
He smirked, walking toward me, completely unfazed.
"Saving my own ass. Obviously."
I threw my hands up. "Do I look like your personal safe house?"
"You did let me in."
I scoffed. "I should've let them take you."
He cocked his head. "But you didn't."
I glared. "I don't snitch. Doesn't mean I enjoy playing harbor-a-fugitive in my free time."
Dante grinned like this was the most fun he'd had all day.
"I knew I liked you."
"Oh, bite me."
"Careful," he murmured, stepping closer. "I might take you up on that."
I stepped back, jabbing a finger at him. "You're leaving. Now."
Dante stretched his arms above his head, making himself way too comfortable.
"Nah, I think I'll stay a bit."
I narrowed my eyes. "You think?"
He smirked. "Yeah. I like the ambiance."
I let out a sharp laugh. "You're insane."
Dante just shrugged. "Only on Wednesdays."
I groaned, resisting the urge to throw something at his smug face.
"Unbelievable."
He sank onto my bed like he belonged there.
"Got any whiskey?"
I nearly choked. I can't believe this man that murdered people was seriously acting this childish.
"Do I look like I keep whiskey in my bedside drawer?"
Dante tilted his head, gaze moving to my nightstand.
"You do have a drawer, though. What's in it?"
"None of your damn business."
He grinned. "I like you"
I crossed my arms, he must've thought I'm someone he could play with.
"Yeah? Well, I don't." I replied, tired of entertaining his bullshit.
"Not true."
I sucked in a breath. Dante was seriously pushing me to the edge. And I hated how furious it made me feel.
Before I could tell him exactly where to shove his ego, another knock sounded at the door.
Dante's expression darkened.
I frowned. "You expecting company?"
His jaw clenched. "No."
We both stared at the door. The air in the room felt suffocating. Something wasn't right.
The pounding on the door only got louder.
"Leona!" Elena's voice was sharp, filled with frustration. "Open the damn door!"
Dante shot me a warning look. "Don't open it."
I rolled my eyes. "You don't get to tell me what to do."
He stepped closer. "I'm serious—"
But I was already turning the handle. The door swung open, revealing Elena and Mulch, their faces tight with worry.
Elena exhaled sharply. "What the hell is wrong with you? We've been knocking since forever!"
"Yeah, well, maybe I was busy," I muttered, stepping aside.
But Elena wasn't listening anymore. Her gaze landed on Dante, and in an instant, all color drained from her face.
"What the fuck?" Her voice was barely audible, her hands tightening into fists. "Dante?"
Dante didn't even acknowledge her. He leaned against my dresser, arms crossed, looking like he owned the damn place.
Elena's breathing turned shallow, memories of their last encounter flashing in her eyes.
"Why the hell is he here?" She said through a gritted teeth, staring at me.
Mulch, however, was eerily calm. He looked Dante over and let out a dry chuckle.
"Didn't think I'd see you again."
I blinked. "You two know each other?"
Dante smirked. "Better than you think."