C37 Danger To Yourself

Annabelle stirred, her whole body pulsing with a dull ache.

Faint, brutal images of being kicked over and over again floated through her mind, fading in and out like fragments of a nightmare.

Her stomach clenched as she remembered the masked face, the cruel hands, the terrible laughter that had echoed around her.

“You are awake,” she thought she heard a familiar voice say.

She blinked, the dim light filtering through her eyelids, and when she opened her eyes fully, her gaze fell on Dante.

He was sitting beside her, her hand cradled gently in his.

The sight sent a flash of confusion through her. Then anger followed as she fully registered who he was.

Annabelle yanked her hand from his grasp.

Hot-white pain lanced through her stomach and chest as she tried to get up.

Giving up on that, her breath hitched as she pushed herself back against the pillows.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but laced with all the bitterness she could muster. “Why are my…” The last person she saw before she fainted came to her mind and she looked at him with accusation in her eyes as she asked, “Why did you bring me back?”

Dante’s expression barely flickered.

If her reaction meant anything to him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he lifted a hand and pressed the intercom. “She is awake,” he said tersely.

“I want you gone.” She glared at him, her voice rising despite the pain that rippled through her ribs with every breath. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want you here.”

He turned to her, his face impassive, and said nothing.

Dr. Aguillar stepped in and checked Annabelle’s vitals as he asked her a few questions.

Once he was done, the doctor turned to Dante.

“Is she stable enough to talk?” Dante asked, his voice calm but carrying a steely undertone.

“Yes, sir” Dr. Aguillar replied, glancing at Annabelle, his brows slightly furrowed as he noted her obvious discomfort. “She’s stable, but she needs rest.”

Dante nodded, dismissing the doctor with a hand motion. “Leave us.”

The doctor quickly hurried out, and the door clicked shut behind him. Silence settled over the room, heavy and tense. Annabelle’s hands clenched around the sheets, her gaze blazing with defiance.

“Get used to being close to me,” Dante said finally, his calm tone almost making her want to scream. “That seems to be the only way you’re going to stay out of danger.”

“Danger?” The disbelief was obvious in her tone as her uncharacteristic rebellion drove her on. “The only danger I see here is you. You are the most dangerous man I know and I want nothing to do with you. You don’t have any rights over me at all.”

Dante’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing, but he didn’t rise to her taunts. Instead, he watched her with that cold, calculating gaze that shivered down her spine.

“You’re wrong,” he replied, his voice low, controlled. “Very wrong.”

“Oh?” Annabelle’s frustration increased her boldness, though her heart raced as his gaze bore into her. “Well, I guess I was wrong about your promises too, huh? You’re so good at killing and kidnapping, but you couldn’t even keep the one promise that mattered to me. You said you’d help me find my sister. Remember?”

Dante’s face darkened, his eyes flickering with a dangerous intensity as he leaned in, gripping her chin between his fingers, his touch firm but not painful. “Watch what you say, Annabelle.”

Her pulse raced, her bravado faltering for a brief second as she caught the fierce look in his eyes. She held her breath, bracing for what she thought might be his anger turned physical.

But he didn’t hurt her. He simply held her there, his gaze boring into hers with a strange mixture of fury and… disappointment?

“You think I would hurt you?” His voice was quiet, disgusted, as though the very idea offended him. “You think I’d beat you like that animal who left you bloody in the street?”

The raw anger in his voice sent a chill through her, and she broke eye contact, staring unseeing at something beyond his broad shoulder instead, refusing to let him see the fear that had crept up inside her.

“I…”

“No.” His grip on her chin loosened, but he didn’t pull away, his fingers resting just beneath her jaw as his gaze softened, only slightly. “I am the one person who won’t hurt you, Annabelle. Get that through your head.”

She swallowed, trying to push away the strange sensation his words stirred in her. She wanted to retort, to throw something venomous back at him, but her words faltered. Her anger was tangled with confusion, a twisting knot in her chest that she couldn’t seem to unravel.

“Then let me go,” she said finally, her voice barely more than a whisper. “If you want to help me, just… let me go.”

Dante’s expression hardened again.

He leaned closer, his voice low and intense, and she could feel his breath against her cheek. “I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Her mouth fell open, the defiance draining from her as she took in the cold finality in his tone. He held her gaze, his eyes unwavering, and for the first time, she realised that he meant it. That no amount of arguing or pleading would change his mind.

“You don’t have that right over me,” she hissed, gathering the remnants of her strength. “You…you can’t just control me. You are the one who is wrong. I’m not your prisoner.”

A mocking smile played at the edge of his lips. “Call it what you want, Annabelle. But I’m keeping you close, whether you like it or not.” His voice softened, almost like he was speaking to himself. “You’re a danger to yourself, and I won’t allow it.”

Her frustration bubbled over, her hands curling into fists as she glared at him. “Oh, I’m a danger to myself? Or maybe you just don’t want to admit that you’re the reason all of this happened! My plans were going fine until you hit me! If you had not…”

Her bravado fled her again when Dante’s eyes flashed, his jaw tightened.

For a brief moment, she thought she’d broken through his calm veneer. But then he steadied himself, his expression returning to that unreadable calm that drove her mad.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he said quietly, his voice firm, unyielding. “And I suggest you get used to seeing me around, Annabelle, because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be around plenty until you understand that.”

With that, he released her, standing up with a smooth, controlled movement, his gaze lingering on her for just a moment before he turned and strode toward the door.

She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clenched at his sides, and a part of her she had not known existed felt a dark satisfaction at having rattled him, even if only a little.

As the door clicked shut behind him, she exhaled, her anger swirling with a confusion she didn’t dare name.

She stared after him, seething but unable to shake the memory of the intensity in his eyes, the strange softness that had flickered there for the briefest of moments.

“What will I do?” she whispered unconsciously.

She had tried and failed. She doubted he would allow her to succeed again.

The frustration of her plans always backfiring on her weakened her as she sagged back against the bed.

“What will I do now?” She thought in despair as she shied away from the truth in his word about danger

Look what going off on her own had done to her.

She could be dead right now.

"Oh God,"