Page 73 of Bad Girl Dilemma

One final infiltration. One last hit before we vanish for good.

His fingers are still laced with mine, even in sleep.

I turn my head to look at him. Just look.

His beautiful eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, lashes darker and longer than should be legal. He looks… at peace. Boyish, almost.

After the time I’ve spent with him, I know he doesn’t get that often. Never lets himself rest. And maybe that’s why I know something’s wrong.

Because that kind of peace doesn’t last long in our world. Not when people like the Vesper Syndicate are wounded but not dead.

The knock on the door is soft. Three taps.

My heart jerks.

Dante shoots up, instantly alert. “Stay here.”

“Like hell I will,” I whisper, already grabbing my shirt.

He’s out of bed and armed in seconds, gun drawn, shoulders coiled tight as wire. I follow barefoot, adrenaline washing the sleep from my veins.

We reach the hallway together.

Another knock. Then a voice—quiet. Half-familiar.

“Mr. O’Driscoll,” comes Solomon’s voice. One of Dante’s hackers. Trusted but verified. Repeatedly. “It’s urgent.”

Dante lowers the weapon but doesn’t holster it. “What is it?”

Solomon doesn’t look at me when he steps in. Just hands Dante a sleek tablet with shaking fingers.

“I decrypted the data. It’s worse than we thought.”

Dante taps the screen, scrolling rapidly. His expression sharpens with every word.

“Is that…” I step closer.

Dante nods slowly. Then exhales like the air just turned toxic.

“The basement was the tip of the iceberg,” he says quietly. “From what you harvested, it looks like they’rebuildingsomething. A biometric database. Surveillance profiles. Everyone who’s ever logged in, ever stepped through the doors of The Gilded Cage. Then…” He stops. Flinches.

“Dante—”

“A spiderweb of every contact, and their contact. It goes fucking on.”

I step back, cold all over. “My father…”

Dante looks at me then, and there’s something brutal in his stillness. Not calculation. Not strategy. Something older. Fiercer.

“I already moved him,” he says, voice low. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to spook you. But I had him pulled out the second I saw the first wave of Vesper data come in.”

My knees nearly buckle with relief. “You—what?”

“He’s safe. New name. Clean trail. No digital footprint. Only three people know where he is, and I’m one of them.”

“Thank you, but… more secrets, Dante?”

He steps closer. Eyes locked on mine. “I swore to protect you. That includes the people you love.”

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