Page 155 of Made for Sinners

DANTE

Iknew something was wrong the second I opened my eyes.

The bed was cold.

Not just empty—cold.

Emilia always ran warm. She’d curl into me in her sleep like a cat, her limbs tangled with mine, her breath soft against my throat. Even when she woke before me, the sheets held her heat for a while. But this?

This was ice.

I sat up slowly, scanning the room. The curtains were still drawn, the early morning light bleeding through the edges. Her clothes were gone from the chair. Her robe was missing from the hook on the door.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand.

No messages.

No missed calls.

No Emilia.

My chest tightened.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, grabbing the gun from the drawer and tucking it into the waistband of my sweats. I didn’t bother with a shirt. I didn’t need one.

I moved through the estate like a shadow, silent and fast.

“Luca!” I barked as I passed the east corridor. “Where the fuck is she?”

He stepped out of the guest room, shirtless and half-asleep, blinking like I’d just dragged him out of a coma. “Who?”

“Emilia.”

He frowned. “I thought she was with you.”

“She’s not.”

His expression changed. “Shit.”

I didn’t wait.

I was already moving.

I checked the security room next. The guard on duty jumped when I slammed the door open.

“Pull the footage,” I snapped. “Every camera. From midnight to now.”

“Yes, sir.”

The screens flickered to life, one by one. The estate grounds. The front gate. The chapel.

My blood turned to ice.

“Stop,” I barked, leaning forward. “Rewind that.”

The guard clicked back through the footage. My eyes locked on the grainy black-and-white image of the chapel. The timestamp read 2:14 AM.

There she was.

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