Page 50 of Made for Sinners

No answer.

Me:Are you at least alive? Or do I now own your entire empire?

No answer.

I paced the length of the living room, my bare feet sinking into the plush rug as I clutched a glass of wine I didn’t even want. The city sprawled out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, aglittering expanse of lights and movement, but it felt distant—like another world I no longer belonged to.

I hated this.

I hated the waiting. The uncertainty. The way Dante could disappear without a word and leave me here, stewing in my own frustration like some obedient little wife.

And I hated that it bothered me.

Luca, of course, was no help.

He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his feet propped up on the coffee table like he owned the place. The TV blared some sports recap, the volume obnoxiously loud, but he didn’t seem to care.

Or maybe he did. Maybe this was his way of making sure I knew exactly how little my irritation mattered.

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening around the stem of my glass. “Are you just going to sit there all night?”

Luca didn’t even glance at me. “Yep.”

I exhaled sharply through my nose. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching me?”

He smirked, still not looking away from the screen. “I am watching you.”

I rolled my eyes, setting my untouched wine down on the coffee table with a little more force than necessary. “Where is he?”

Luca finally turned his head, his sharp blue eyes meeting mine with something that looked suspiciously like amusement. “Who?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t play dumb.”

He grinned. “I’m not playing.”

I crossed my arms, my nails digging into my skin. “Where is Dante?”

Luca stretched, letting out a lazy sigh. “Busy.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to stay calm. “Is he safe?”

Luca’s smirk faded slightly, his expression turning unreadable. “Dante can handle himself.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He studied me for a moment, then shrugged. “He’s fine.”

Fine.

That was it. No details, no reassurance, just a single, dismissive word.

I turned away, my pulse thrumming with frustration.

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