A long beam of yellow light from the hallway cut through the darkness of the study.

Dante stood in the doorway, his tall frame blocking the exit.

His dark wool coat was damp from the rain, and his expression was completely unreadable.

He looked down at me, his gaze dropping to the ledger in my hands.

My heart stopped.

“Get up, Alessia.”

His voice was quiet, but it filled the room.

The rain lashed against the windowpane behind him, a steady, rhythmic drumming.

I did not move.

My fingers gripped the leather binding of the ledger until my knuckles turned white.

“I asked you a question earlier tonight,” he said, stepping into the study.

He closed the door behind him, cutting off the bright yellow light from the hallway.

The room fell back into the dim, shadow-filled glow of the desk lamp.

He walked toward me with slow, measured steps.

I pressed my back against the heavy mahogany desk, trying to make myself as small as possible.

“Are you going to tell me what you are looking for?” he asked.

“I needed to know,” I whispered, my voice trembling.