Seraphina's body tensed for a fight. "What the hell do you want?" she demanded, her voice low, steady despite the ache in her chest.

The woman's smile widened, her dark eyes glinting under the streetlamp. "Feisty, aren't you?," she purred, taking a step closer, her boots clicking softly. She tilted her head, raking her gaze over Seraphina, slow and assessing, like she was appraising a rival. "No wonder he's turning the city upside down to find you. Seraphina, right? Dante's little runaway bride."

Seraphina shifted her weight, ignoring the sharp twinge in her ankle, her mind racing. This wasn't random. Morello had obviously sent her, or worse, Dante.

"You know...