ARIA

The confession hangs between us, raw and honest.

“Dante—”

His phone rings. He glances at it, and his expression hardens. “I have to take this. It’s Viktor.”

He answers, speaking in clipped tones. I watched his face change, going from concerned to furious.

“When?” A pause. “How did they get past security?” Another pause. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

He hangs up and starts moving, grabbing his jacket, his watch, and his phone.

“What ...