Chapter 3 3

Dante's POV

"What in the hell is-"

She started to scream, but the glass exploded inward before she could finish. The large windowpanes advertising dulce de leche crepes, southwest egg scrambles, and enchiladas shattered into a storm of razor-sharp shards raining down over us. I threw myself over Vianne, taking the hit-glass slicing into my back, pain exploding across my skin.

My knuckles scraped and split on the hard tile floor.

For a heartbeat, chaos reigned. Then silence.

Vianne was pressed into my chest, trembling like a scared animal. Just moments ago, she'd been terrified of me-now she was clinging like I was her only lifeline in a storm she didn't understand.

"I think it's over."

My voice was low, hard-like a warning, not comfort. She peeked from beneath my arm, eyes wide and glazed with shock.

"Was that a bomb?"

"Sniper," I said flatly.

She gasped, horror creeping into her voice. "A sniper was going to-Holy shit. You saved my life."

"Don't start thanking me." I hissed. "The shooter's still out there. We're not safe."

She recoiled, curling back against me, eyes searching mine like I was the last thing standing between her and death.

I pushed up on a knee, muscles aching. Offered her my hand. She took it, trembling, and we crawled behind the nearest booth-away from the shattered glass and open windows.

She leaned against the seat, knees pulled tight, but there were no tears. No breakdown. Nothing.

That pissed me off more than anything.

Without the distraction of her body pressed to mine, the cold fury inside me boiled over.

"What the fuck are you involved in?" I demanded, voice rough with menace.

She met my gaze, defiant. "You think this was because of me?"

"No one aiming for me wastes bullets on a dive like this." I spat. "You're hiding something. A whole lot more than your name."

I had enemies, sure. But none were stupid enough to shoot up a public place full of innocents just to send a message. This wasn't sloppy-this was desperation.

"I lied about my name, but not about this. No one's after me."

Her words sounded like lies. Or maybe she was just deluded. Either way, I didn't have the time or patience to sort it out.

I stared her down, cold and hard.

"Are you okay?"

She blinked, confused by the sudden softness.

I repeated it slowly, cutting through the tension like a blade:

"Are. You. Okay?"

She gave a shaky nod, running a hand through her hair like she was convincing herself more than me.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Are you?"

"Perfect." I smirked, though the pain in my knee flared with the movement.

"Don't we all know it," she muttered.

I ignored her and dropped onto my knees as the back door creaked open. My hand slid to the gun at my hip, but I relaxed when I heard Marco's voice.

"Dante?"

Good. He was alive.

"Over here. Eyes on anyone?"

"Working it," Marco said. "They aimed for the windows. No one outside got hit. We're clearing the perimeter."

He vanished back into the shadows outside.

I looked at Vianne. Her green eyes were wide and scared again.

"We were the targets?"

If she were anyone else, I'd have killed her already. There was too much I didn't know, and whatever secrets she kept were putting us both at risk.

But she wasn't anyone else. She was... a wild card.

I rested my elbow on my knee, locking eyes with her.

"Now's the time to spill everything, Vianne. No more games."

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away.

"We already played that game."

I rolled my eyes, impatience simmering beneath the surface.

"If you have enemies, I need to know. Now. Your life depends on it."

She shot back, voice steady.

"I don't have enemies. Unless you count yourself."

A cold laugh escaped me. "If you do have enemies..."

I leaned in, lowering my voice until it was little more than a deadly whisper.

"...and you're lying to me?"

She swallowed hard, but I cut her off before she could answer.

"I'll make sure you regret every damn secret you've kept."