C101 Not Like You

The mist clung to the ground like a veil, dampening the pre-dawn air as Dante stood with his arms crossed.

His dark eyes were fixed on Patrick Shaw’s crumpled form.

The older man groaned softly while holding his side as he struggled to sit upright.

Dante’s patience teetered dangerously close to snapping.

Annabelle was at his side, her hair dishevelled from her run, her face pale with a mixture of worry and frustration.

She was still catching her breath when Dante turned to her, his voice low and sharp. “Do you want to talk to him?”

Her eyes flicked toward Patrick, then back to Dante. “No.” Her voice was firm, but there was a tremor underneath.

“Then go back inside.”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. “Just... don’t kill him.”

Dante’s brows shot up, his jaw tightening as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Annabelle, your disobedience might be why I do something nasty.”

She stared at him and her mouth opened as if she wanted to argue.

But then she thought better of it.

With a small shake of her head, she turned and walked back toward the hotel as Rio came outside.

Dante’s look was enough message for the man, and he opened the front door for Annabelle.

She glanced over her shoulder one last time before disappearing inside.

Dante waited until she was gone before crouching down and grabbing Patrick by the collar of his jacket.

The older man’s eyes widened as Dante hauled him to his feet with little effort.

His strength was a stark contrast to Patrick’s frailty.

“Up,” Dante growled. “We’re taking a drive.”

Annabelle’s scent somehow stayed with him as if monitoring him.

Her perfume, a mix of vanilla and something floral, teased him and his nose flared in annoyance.

Dante’s hand tightened on the steering wheel while his other hand rested on the gear shift as the car hummed along the deserted road.

Patrick sat stiffly in the passenger seat with his hands folded in his lap.

He hadn’t said a word since Dante shoved him into the car.

Dante glanced sideways at him, his dark eyes narrowing.

The man looked as pathetic as he’d imagined.

Patrick’s greying hair was unkempt and his clothes hung loose on his thin frame.

And the weary look on his face made him seem even older than he probably was.

Yet, he sat there, calm, not even trying to run after Dante pushed him into the car.

“Are you just stupid,” Dante said, his voice dripping with disdain, “or are you as stubborn as your daughter?”

Patrick didn’t respond immediately, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Dante’s grip on the wheel tightened the leather creaking beneath his fingers.

The car came to a stop in a remote area on the outskirts of town, the road lined with gnarled trees that seemed to claw at the sky.

Dante killed the engine and turned to face Patrick fully.

His expression was cold with his jaw tight with barely restrained anger.

“Out,” Dante commanded.

Patrick hesitated for a moment before opening the door and stepping out.

The gravel crunched beneath his worn shoes as he turned to face Dante, his shoulders hunched like a man expecting a blow.

Dante would have been more than glad to have dealt him that blow if not for the promise he made to that infuriating woman.

Dante stepped out as well, his dark coat billowing slightly in the cool breeze.

His black boots crunched against the gravel as he walked around the car with his imposing figure casting a long shadow in the pale light of dawn.

He stopped a few feet away from Patrick, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“You’re here for something,” Dante said, his tone low and menacing. “So spit it out. What the fuck do you want?”

Patrick’s lips parted.

Then it pressed shut again as if he were choosing his words carefully.

Finally, he said, “I don’t want anything.”

Dante’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t play games with me, old man. You wouldn’t show up after all these years for nothing.”

Patrick lifted his chin slightly, though his expression was tired. “I just wanted to reconnect with my family.”

A humourless laugh escaped Dante’s lips, sharp and bitter. “You picked a fine time to grow a conscience.”

Patrick bristled slightly at the remark, but he didn’t retort.

Dante took a slow step forward, his dark eyes boring into Patrick’s with an intensity that made the older man flinch.

“I’ll give you one chance,” Dante said, his voice cold and deliberate. “State what you want. Right now. Once this offer’s off the table, it’s gone. You’ll never get another one.”

Patrick’s gaze faltered for a moment, but when he spoke, his voice was steady. “I told you. I just want to reconnect.”

Dante stared at him for a long moment, the silence between them growing heavier by the second. Finally, he shook his head as a grim smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s too late for that.”

He stepped back, gesturing toward the car. “Now get the fuck out of my car. And don’t ever try to contact Annabelle again.”

His voice dropped lower, each word laced with venom. “If you do, I’ll break my promise to her. I’ll kill you in the most painful way imaginable.”

Patrick swallowed hard, his hands shaking slightly as he turned to leave. But just as he reached the edge of the gravel, he stopped.

“I think Annabelle’s in danger,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the rustling of the trees.

Dante froze, his body going rigid.

Slowly, he turned, his dark eyes narrowing as they locked onto Patrick.

“What did you say?” Dante’s voice was low, deadly.

Patrick turned to face him fully, his expression earnest. “I don’t know much,” he admitted, “but I’ve heard things. It is…one of the reasons why I came here. I think someone’s after her.”

For a moment, Dante said nothing as his mind raced.

His first instinct was to dismiss Patrick’s words as the ramblings of a desperate man.

But there was something in the older man’s tone that gave him pause.

Dante took a step forward, his boots crunching against the gravel. “If you’re lying…”

“I’m not,” Patrick interrupted his voice firm.

Dante stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he nodded curtly. “She doesn’t need your damn protection. If anyone came for her, they would have to go through me first. Now, stay out of my sight,” he said. “And stay the fuck away from Annabelle.”

“You will protect her?” Patrick asked carefully.

“I am not like you,” Dante said meaningfully.

Patrick looked pained for a moment.

Then he nodded and walked away, his steps slow and unsteady.

Dante watched him until he disappeared into the mist with his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

He turned back to the car, his jaw tight as he slid behind the wheel.

Annabelle’s face flashed in his mind.

Her stubborn glare and the way she’d pleaded with him not to kill Patrick.

With a growl of frustration, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

The sound echoed in the quiet morning.

There was only one source of danger he could think of at the moment. Tad.

Then an uneasy thought penetrated his mind as he started the car.

“What if the bastard toying with me has his sights on her?”

He doubted it, yet he knew he couldn’t overlook that too.

He had not officially gone out with her, but still, that wouldn't make much difference if someone was keeping tabs on him.

Dante swore to himself that he’d be ready for whatever danger was coming to her.

Anyone who tried to hurt her would rue the day they were born.