The echo of the gunshot still rang in my ears.
For a moment I stood frozen in the hallway, my fingers gripping the edge of the door.
"What… was that?" I whispered.
Luca didn't answer immediately.
His jaw tightened slightly as his eyes flicked down the corridor.
"Probably nothing you need to worry about," he said.
I stared at him.
"You think I'm stupid?"
"No," he replied calmly. "I think you're safer not knowing certain things."
That answer only made the uneasiness in my stomach grow worse.
The mansion was too quiet.
Usually I could hear guards moving somewhere in the distance or voices echoing faintly from downstairs. But now there was nothing.
Just silence.
And the memory of that gunshot.
Before I could press Luca for more answers, a loud noise suddenly came from the far end of the hallway.
Heavy footsteps.
Several of them.
Both of them turned.
Two guards appeared first, dragging someone between them.
At first I couldn't see the person clearly. His head was hanging low, his dark hair falling over his face as his feet scraped weakly across the marble floor.
But then the hallway lights caught him.
My breath caught in her throat.
Marco.
His face was swollen and bruised. Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow, staining the collar of his once perfect suit.
He barely looked like the confident man who had stood beside Dante earlier.
Now he looked broken.
Completely broken.
I instinctively stepped forward.
"What happened to him?"
Luca immediately caught her arm.
"Don't," he murmured under his breath.
Marco lifted his head slightly.
His eyes moved slowly across the hallway before finally landing on me.
For a brief moment something flashed across his face.
Desperation.
"El—"
One of the guards shoved him forward roughly before he could finish speaking.
"Move."
Marco stumbled but the guards held him upright, dragging him forward again.
Elena's heart began pounding.
"Where are they taking him?" I asked quietly.
Before Luca could answer—
A new presence entered the hallway.
The guards immediately straightened.
Marco froze.
And i felt the air change instantly.
Dante.
He walked toward them slowly, his expression calm and unreadable as always. His dark suit was perfectly in place, his hands relaxed at his sides.
If I hadn't seen Marco's condition, i would never have guessed something serious had just happened.
Dante stopped when he reached them.
His eyes moved briefly over Marco's injuries.
Then he looked at me.
"You should be in your room, Elena."
His voice was quiet.
But firm.
I crossed my arms slightly.
"I heard a gunshot."
Dante didn't respond.
Her gaze shifted toward Marco again.
"What did he do?"
Silence filled the hallway.
Marco let out a weak laugh that ended in a cough.
"Tell her," he muttered hoarsely.
One of the guards tightened his grip on him.
Dante's eyes darkened slightly.
"You betrayed me," Dante said calmly.
The words were directed at Marco.
Not me.
Marco lifted his head with effort.
"You think you're untouchable," he rasped.
Dante didn't react.
His calmness made the moment even more terrifying.
"You had everything," Marco continued weakly. "And you still don't trust anyone."
Dante stepped closer.
Close enough that Marco had to tilt his head slightly to meet his gaze.
"You're alive right now," Dante said quietly, "because I want answers."
Marco smiled faintly.
Even through the blood and bruises.
"You already know the answers."
Dante's expression hardened.
For a long moment neither man spoke.
Then Dante turned slightly toward the guards.
"Take him."
Marco's eyes widened slightly.
"Wait—"
But the guards were already dragging him away.
Toward the staircase at the end of the hall.
The one that led down to the lower level of the mansion.
I watched as Marco struggled weakly against them.
"Dante!" he shouted suddenly.
The guards stopped for a brief second.
Dante didn't turn around.
"You think this ends with me?" Marco said hoarsely.
Dante finally looked back.
His expression was colder than I had ever seen it.
"Traitors don't get second chances."
The words sent a chill through the hallway.
Marco stared at him.
Then he laughed again.
A broken, bitter sound.
"You used to be different," he muttered.
Dante didn't respond.
He simply gestured once.
The guards pulled Marco down the staircase.
His footsteps echoed loudly as they disappeared into the darkness below.
The sound faded slowly until the mansion was silent again.
I realized I have been holding my breath.
I looked at Dante.
"You're going to kill him."
It wasn't a question.
Dante's gaze met hers.
"You don't understand the world you're in."
"Then explain it to me."
His expression remained unreadable.
"A man who betrays my house," he said quietly, "doesn't get mercy."
I felt something twist inside her chest.
"But he worked for you."
"And he chose to betray me."
The coldness in Dante's voice made me shiver.
I had seen glimpses of it before.
But tonight it was different.
Tonight I was seeing exactly why people feared him.
Dante Moretti wasn't just powerful.
He was ruthless.
Dante stepped closer to me.
"You should go back to your room."
I hesitated.
My eyes drifted toward the staircase again.
Down there…
Marco was still alive.
For now.
"Dante," I said quietly.
He stopped walking.
"What?"
My voice came out softer than I expected.
"Don't do this."
For the first time that night, something flickered across Dante's face.
Not anger.
Not cruelty.
Something harder to read.
But it vanished quickly.
"You're asking me to spare a traitor," he said.
"I'm asking you not to kill someone."
Dante looked at me for a long moment.
Then he shook his head slightly.
"You're too soft for this world."
He turned toward the staircase.
"Elena."
I looked up.
"Go to your room."
His voice left no room for argument.
And as he began walking toward the stairs—
I realized something that made my stomach sink.
Dante wasn't going down there to talk.
He was going down there to finish what he started.
And whatever happened in that basement tonight…
No one in this mansion would ever speak about it again.