Dante stormed down the corridor, his boots echoing against the polished floors with each determined step. His knuckles throbbed from the repeated punches he’d thrown, and the faint smear of blood on them didn’t faze him in the slightest. Angelo trailed behind, his attempts at calming Dante rebuffed by a sharp shrug of the shoulder.

“Leave it,” Dante barked without looking back, his voice rough with unspent anger.

Angelo didn’t press further, watching as Dante reached his door and yanked it open with enough force to rattle the hinges. Inside, Annabelle was pacing furiously, her hair disheveled, her cheeks flushed with fury.

The moment her eyes landed on him, she...