C138 How Long?

Move,” Dante barked from behind, his voice clipped and cold. “We don’t have all day.”

Annabelle wanted to whirl around and tell him to go to hell, but her grip on Cathy tightened instead.

Her sister’s small, warm presence was the only thing grounding her in this madness.

Despite her fear, confusion, and the pounding ache of exhaustion, Annabelle couldn’t let go of one crucial truth. Cathy was alive.

She glanced down at Cathy’s pale, tear-streaked face. “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered, pressing her lips to the crown of her sister’s head. “We’re okay. We’ll get through this.”

“Not if you don’t keep walking,” Dante snapped again, shining his flashlight along the tunnel floor.

Annabelle gritted her teeth. She kept her response locked behind clenched lips, even as a surge of anger bubbled up. Cathy’s safety was all that mattered right now, and as much as she hated Dante, she couldn’t deny that he had kept her sister alive.

Behind her, Dante’s heavy footfalls echoed ominously. Five of his men marched ahead, their silhouettes dark and imposing in the narrow space. The air was damp and carried an earthy tang that clung to her skin.

Annabelle stumbled on a loose rock, her ankle twisting painfully. Before she could steady herself, a firm hand grasped her elbow, keeping her upright. She jerked her arm away as if his touch burned her.

“Be careful,” Dante said tersely, his hand falling away just as quickly as it had appeared.

She shot him a glare but didn’t respond. She simply pushed forward, dragging Cathy along. The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, an unending path of shadows and silence broken only by the occasional scuff of boots or the distant drip of water.

Her thoughts swirled like a hurricane. Dante wasn’t just some eccentric, gun-obsessed man. He was mafia. A killer. A man who had probably decided life and death for countless people.

Her stomach churned. The thought threatened to consume her. *This man could kill you in an instant and bury your body in a thousand ways. What would happen to Cathy then?*

Annabelle forced the voice in her head into silence. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. She needed to stay focused. Cathy needed her.

A small voice broke the tense quiet. “Annabelle…” Cathy’s tone was hesitant.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Annabelle asked gently, glancing down at her sister.

Before Cathy could respond, Dante’s voice interrupted. “Do you want me to carry her?”

Annabelle blinked in surprise, staring at the back of his broad frame. Cathy looked up at her, wide-eyed, before nodding shyly. “I’d like that,” she murmured.

Dante crouched slightly, motioning for Cathy to climb onto his back. Annabelle hesitated, her protective instincts screaming at her to refuse. But Cathy didn’t wait for her approval. She climbed onto Dante’s back, her small arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

Annabelle stared at the scene, her mind unable to reconcile it. This was Dante—the ruthless, cold-hearted man who had likely killed more people than she could fathom. And here he was, carrying her sister like a protective older brother.

“This can’t be real,” Annabelle muttered under her breath.

“Keep up,” Dante ordered, not even glancing back.

Annabelle followed in stunned silence, her thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and exhaustion.

When they finally emerged from the tunnel, Annabelle sucked in a breath of relief. The moonlit woods spread out before them, their shadows long and jagged. Ahead, three off-road jeeps idled with their engines rumbling. Rio and two other men stood guard, their hands resting casually on their weapons.

“Get in,” Dante commanded as he set Cathy down gently.

Annabelle hesitated, glancing back toward the tunnel. Her thoughts drifted to Angelo and Maria, still trapped in the chaos of the mansion. Her chest tightened with guilt. She sent a silent prayer for their safety before helping Cathy into one of the jeeps.

The ride was tense and silent. Annabelle sat beside Cathy, her arm wrapped protectively around her sister’s shoulders. She caught Dante checking his phone repeatedly, his jaw tight and his expression unreadable.

The guilt gnawed at her. “Maybe if I hadn’t been so difficult, you wouldn’t have had to leave them,” she thought to herself, stealing a glance at him. But then another voice whispered back. “You’re in this mess because of him. He’s the reason all of this is happening."

The conflicting thoughts threatened to overwhelm her, so she focused on the scenery instead. The rocky terrain soon gave way to dense woods, their towering trees blotting out the sky. She was sure they had left Acadia behind.

Eventually, the trees parted to reveal a modest bungalow nestled in the shadows. Its forest-green paint blended seamlessly with the surrounding foliage, making it almost invisible in the dark.

The men checked the perimeter and the house itself before Dante motioned for Annabelle and Cathy to follow him inside.

As soon as she stepped through the door, Annabelle realised the exterior was a lie. The interior was sleek and modern, filled with top-of-the-line equipment and minimalist furniture. It was a stark contrast to the plain façade.

“This way,” Dante said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He led them down a hallway to a spacious bedroom with two beds pushed against opposite walls. “You’ll stay here until we can go back,” he said curtly.

Annabelle frowned. “How long will that be?”

Dante’s only response was a hard stare before he turned on his heel and walked out.

Without another word, Annabelle guided Cathy into the room, closing the door behind them. She sat her sister on one of the beds, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“We’re safe now,” she murmured, more for herself than Cathy. “For now.”