"I have sources," Dante said simply. "I know everything about your life, Isabella. I know when you eat. I know when you sleep. I know who you talk to and what you say to them. I know everything."
Isabella felt a chill run down her spine.
"That's... that's not okay, Dante. That's not..."
"That's love," Dante interrupted. "That's what it means when a man cares about you the way I care about you. He knows you. He watches you. He keeps you safe by being aware of every detail of your existence."
"That's not love," Isabella said quietly. "That's control."
"It's both," Dante said, standing. "Come. I need to show you something."
He took her hand and led her through the safe house, to a room with multiple computer monitors displaying security feeds and intelligence reports.
"This is our operations center," Dante said, pointing to various screens.
He pulled up a file on one of the monitors.
The penthouse. Dimitri's building. Eve's daily routine.
