Shadows and Suspicion

Virello Estate – 4:00 AM

Belle didn't sleep. She never did on nights like this—nights when danger felt like it was breathing down her neck.

She sat on the edge of her bed, the note still clutched in her fingers. The words burned in her mind.

You're not as invisible as you think.

Someone had left this for her. Someone was watching.

Her instincts screamed at her to disappear, to pack her few belongings and vanish before this game turned deadly. But she wasn't just fighting for herself. She had a reason for being in this estate, for working as a maid in the house of her family's enemies.

And she wouldn't leave until she got what she came for.

But first, she needed to find out who left this note.

Belle stood, slipping out of her room and into the darkened hallway. The estate was eerily silent at this hour, the distant hum of security cameras the only sign of life. Most of the staff were asleep, and the guards—well, they were trained to watch for outside threats, not a mere maid wandering the halls.

She moved swiftly, her bare feet silent against the marble floors.

There were two possibilities:

1. Someone had recognized her. Unlikely, but not impossible.

2. Someone was testing her. And that was far more dangerous.

Belle turned a corner, reaching the west wing—where the security rooms were located. If there was footage of the person who left the note, it would be stored here.

She took a slow breath and reached for the door handle.

But before she could touch it—

"You're either very brave or very stupid."

Belle froze.

The voice was smooth, rich with amusement, and far too familiar.

She turned her head slowly.

Dante Castellano leaned against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed, watching her like a wolf watching prey.

His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up, tattoos dark against his forearms. He looked like he belonged to the night itself.

Belle schooled her expression. "I—"

"Save it." Dante pushed off the wall, walking toward her in slow, deliberate steps.

Belle held her ground.

He stopped just inches away, his sharp gaze drifting from her face to the note still clutched in her hand.

"Someone's been leaving you love letters?" His smirk was pure danger.

Belle forced herself to stay calm. Dante was testing her. Again.

She could lie. Or she could give him just enough truth to keep him from digging deeper.

"I found it outside my door."

Dante's smirk didn't fade. But his eyes darkened.

"Did you?"

Belle exhaled. He already knew.

Which meant—he had been watching her, too.

Her pulse quickened. "Sir, I should—"

"You should answer a question first."

Dante reached out, slow and deliberate, and plucked the note from her fingers.

"You don't look scared, Elena." His voice was almost lazy, but there was a razor's edge beneath it. "Most people would be."

Belle's heart pounded.

He was right. She wasn't scared. She was cautious, alert, but not afraid.

And Dante Castellano had just noticed.

Damn it.

He studied her for a moment longer, then—he smiled.

"Interesting."

Then, to her utter shock, he handed the note back.

"Go on, then. Keep sneaking around. But next time, try not to get caught."

Belle swallowed hard.

Dante had just given her permission to keep playing her dangerous game.

But why?

As she turned and walked away, she felt his eyes on her back the whole time.

And in that moment, she knew—

Dante Castellano wasn't just watching her.

He was waiting.