Dante's bedroom was nothing like I expected.
I'd imagined something cold and minimalist all black furniture and sharp edges, matching the man who lived there. Instead, the master suite was surprisingly… warm.
Dark wood floors. A massive four-poster bed with deep blue bedding. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens, currently covered by blackout curtains. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with volumes in multiple languages. A sitting area with leather chairs and a fireplace. And in the corner, a door that Rosa explained led to the panic room reinforced steel, independent air supply, enough supplies to last a week.
"You'll sleep there," Dante said, pointing to the bed.
"And you?"
"The couch in my office. It's through that door." He gestured to a side room I hadn't noticed. "I have work to do anyway. You'll be safe here. The bedroom locks from the inside, and there's a button by the bed that alerts security directly."
