Seraphina noticed the shift before anyone said a word.
It wasn't obvious.
Not loud.
But it was there.
Subtle.
Like the air had tightened.
She paused mid-scroll, her eyes narrowing slightly at the screen.
Numbers still moved. Patterns still formed.
But her focus slipped.
Because something felt… off.
Voices echoed faintly from down the hall.
Low.
Controlled.
Not casual.
Seraphina leaned back slightly, listening.
"…not scheduled," a voice said.
Another replied, quieter.
"He insisted."
Her brows furrowed.
"Interesting."
She stood.
Not rushing.
Never rushing.
And moved toward the door.
The hallway was quieter than before.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that meant something was about to happen.
She followed the sound.
Each step measured.
Careful.
Voices grew clearer.
"…you should've informed me."
That one she recognized instantly.
Dante.
Calm.
But colder than usual.
Seraphina stopped just before the corner.
Close enough to hear.
Not close enough to be seen.
"I don't ask for permission."
A new voice.
Male.
Smooth.
Confident.
Dangerous in a different way.
She leaned slightly, just enough to see.
Two men stood facing each other.
Dante.
Still. Controlled.
Unmoving.
And the other—
Well-dressed. Relaxed posture. A faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
The kind of man who looked harmless…
Until you paid attention.
"Unexpected visits are rarely wise," Dante said.
The man shrugged lightly.
"And yet, here I am."
Seraphina's gaze sharpened.
She studied him carefully.
The details.
The way he stood.
The way he spoke.
Not careless.
Calculated.
"You've been busy," the man continued, glancing around briefly.
"Expanding."
Dante didn't respond.
Which, apparently, was an answer.
The man smiled faintly.
"I heard you brought someone in."
Seraphina stilled.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
Dante's expression didn't change.
"You heard wrong."
The lie came easily.
Too easily.
The man's eyes flickered.
Not convinced.
"Is that so?"
A pause.
Tension stretched thin between them.
Seraphina's instincts kicked in immediately.
This wasn't just a conversation.
This was a test.
Of territory.
Of power.
And somehow—
She was part of it.
"I don't repeat myself," Dante said quietly.
The warning was clear.
Sharp.
The man studied him for a second longer.
Then—
He smiled again.
"Relax," he said lightly. "If you're hiding something, I'm sure I'll find out eventually."
Seraphina's jaw tightened.
That's a problem.
"Not today," Dante replied.
Another silence.
Longer this time.
Then—
Footsteps.
Closer.
Seraphina moved back instantly.
Just in time.
The man turned the corner—
And saw her.
Everything stopped.
For a split second, no one spoke.
No one moved.
Then—
"Well," he said slowly, his gaze sweeping over her.
"There you are."
Seraphina didn't flinch.
Didn't step back.
Didn't look away.
"Do I know you?" she asked calmly.
The man smiled slightly.
"No."
A beat.
"But I know of you."
Her eyes narrowed just a fraction.
That wasn't good.
Behind him, Dante appeared.
His presence immediate.
Heavy.
"This doesn't concern you," Dante said.
His tone had changed.
Sharper now.
The man glanced back at him.
"Clearly, it does."
Seraphina crossed her arms slightly.
"If you're done talking in circles, someone want to explain what's going on?"
The man chuckled softly.
"I like her."
Dante didn't react.
But something in the air shifted.
"She's not part of this," Dante said.
Seraphina almost laughed at that.
Not part of this?
Too late.
The man tilted his head slightly.
"Really?"
His gaze returned to her.
Slow.
Measuring.
"She doesn't look like someone who stays out of things."
Seraphina met his stare evenly.
"I don't."
A flicker of interest crossed his face.
"Good."
Dante stepped forward.
Just enough to place himself between them.
Not obvious.
But deliberate.
"She's under my protection," he said.
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Seraphina blinked once.
Protection?
That was new.
The man noticed.
Of course he did.
"Is she?" he said quietly.
A pause.
Then—
"Interesting."
Silence fell again.
But now it felt sharper.
More dangerous.
Finally, the man stepped back.
Just slightly.
"Enjoy your… project," he said, glancing briefly at Seraphina.
Then to Dante—
"We'll talk again soon."
And just like that—
He left.
The hallway felt different after he was gone.
Lighter.
But not safer.
Seraphina exhaled slowly.
"Well," she said. "That was unsettling."
Dante didn't respond immediately.
His gaze was still on the direction the man had gone.
"Who was that?" she asked.
A pause.
Then—
"Someone you stay away from."
She scoffed lightly.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you need."
Seraphina stepped closer.
Not backing down.
"Too bad. I don't follow instructions that vague."
His eyes shifted to her.
Slow.
Measured.
"For once," he said quietly, "you should."
Something in his tone—
Not control.
Not arrogance.
Warning.
Real warning.
Seraphina held his gaze.
Searching again.
Trying to understand.
"Why?" she asked.
A pause.
Then—
"Because he won't play games with you."
Her lips pressed together.
"And you do?"
A flicker of something crossed his expression.
Brief.
Gone too fast to name.
"Yes."
That answer—
Honest.
Again.
Seraphina let out a quiet breath.
"Great. That's comforting."
Silence stretched between them.
But this time—
It wasn't just tension.
It was something deeper.
Something shifting.
"Go back to your work," Dante said finally.
She didn't move.
Not immediately.
Then—
"Next time," she said, "don't lie."
His gaze held hers.
"I didn't."
She frowned slightly.
"You said I wasn't part of this."
A pause.
Then—
"You weren't."
Her eyes narrowed.
"And now?"
Silence.
Then—
"You are."
A chill ran through her.
Because somehow—
That felt less like a statement…
And more like a warning.