Chapter 4: Unveiling Secrets

The night air was thick with unease, pressing against Lila's skin like an omen she couldn't shake. The small, crumbling house she had always known as home felt less like a sanctuary and more like a cage with each passing day. Ever since Dante's arrival, a shift had occurred one she hadn't asked for, but couldn't deny.

Her father's drinking had worsened. The bottles emptied faster, his rage more unpredictable. But it wasn't just the alcohol; something else was eating at him, something darker. She had caught glimpses of it in the way his hands trembled when he thought she wasn't looking, in the restless pacing late into the night, and in the frantic, slurred mutterings she overheard when he thought she was asleep.

She wasn't naïve. She knew her father had debts, but whatever noose he had tied around his own neck was tightening. And soon, it would drag her down with him.

A Debt That Couldn't Be Paid

The knock at the door came just past midnight, sharp and insistent, the kind that made Lila's stomach coil with dread. She hesitated before moving, the worn floorboards creaking under her feet as she approached.

She pulled the door open and felt the air rush from her lungs.

Three men stood there, shadowed figures against the streetlights. They weren't like Dante who was controlled, and commanding, these men carried an air of recklessness, of violence waiting to be unleashed. The tallest of them stepped forward, his smirk a twisted thing.

"Your old man in?"

Lila's grip tightened on the door. "He's asleep."

The man tsked, shaking his head. "Not a good time to be sleeping, sweetheart. He's overdue."

She swallowed, her pulse hammering. "I don't know anything about that."

The man chuckled. "Oh, but you do. And if you don't, you will soon enough."

A flicker of movement from the side of the house, a shadow detaching from the darkness. Before Lila could react, the man's smirk faded, his expression shifting into something more cautious.

Then she heard Dante's voice, quiet but laced with steel.

"She said he's asleep."

The change in the men was instant. The air grew heavier, the once-confident stance of the tallest man faltering slightly as he turned. Dante stepped fully into the dim porch light, his gaze cold, assessing. Lila felt the shift in power like a tangible force.

One of the men muttered a curse under his breath. The leader, though visibly wary, forced a smirk. "Didn't realize you were involved, De Luca."

"I am now," Dante said, his voice calm but edged with warning. "Leave."

For a moment, tension thickened the air, but then the leader gave a sharp nod, jerking his chin at his men. "Let's go." They disappeared into the night, but not before Lila caught the veiled promise in their eyes.

This wasn't over.

The Truth Beneath the Surface

Inside, Lila turned on Dante the moment the door closed. "Why are you always here?" she demanded. "What do you want from me?"

Dante studied her for a long moment before sighing. "You're asking the wrong questions, Lila."

"Then what are the right ones?"

He stepped closer, and she had to fight the urge to retreat. "Do you really think this is just about your father? That those men came here just for a debt?"

Lila clenched her fists. "What are you talking about?"

Dante exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. Then, as if making a decision, he spoke. "There's more to this than you know. More to me."

Something in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. "What do you mean?"

His gaze held hers, unwavering. "You need to know the truth. About me. About this world."

The silence stretched, and then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Dante unbuttoned his cuff and rolled back his sleeve.

Lila's breath hitched.

Beneath the crisp fabric was a faint mark, dark against his skin. At first, she thought it was a tattoo abut then she noticed the way it shifted, almost like it was alive like it pulsed with something otherworldly. She took a step back. "What—what is that?"

Dante's expression was unreadable. "A bond," he said. "A mark of what I am."

Lila's heart pounded. "Which is?"

He hesitated only a moment before answering. "A werewolf."

The word crashed over her, stealing the breath from her lungs. She stared at him, waiting for the punchline, the explanation. But there was none.

"You're insane," she whispered.

Dante tilted his head. "Am I?"

A cold laugh bubbled in her throat. "This is a joke. You can't be"

But even as she said it, she remembered the way he moved, the way he could appear out of nowhere, the way the air itself seemed to shift around him. And those eyes were dark, piercing, filled with something primal. Something not human.

Lila shook her head, her pulse a wild thing. "No. That's not possible."

"It is."

Silence hung between them, thick with disbelief. Then she found her voice. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you need to know what you're caught up in." His voice was low, almost gentle. "Your father owes debts to men who don't just deal in money. They deal in blood."

She swallowed hard. "And you?"

Dante's jaw clenched. "I deal in power."

The weight of his words settled over her. The world she thought she knew was unraveling at the seams, and Dante was the one pulling the threads.

A tremor ran through her. "And me? What does this mean for me?"

Dante's gaze darkened. "It means you're in far more danger than you realize."

Lila's chest tightened. The shadows in her life had always felt inescapable, but now they had teeth. And Dante? He wasn't just a storm on the horizon he was the eye of it.

She should have been terrified. She should have run. But instead, deep within her, a flicker of something else stirred.

Not fear. Not just curiosity.

Hope.

A dangerous, intoxicating hope.