Chapter 9 - A Moment in the Dark
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At 8:00 PM on the eve of the wedding, a massive, unseasonable thunderstorm rolled off the Atlantic, slamming into the New Jersey hills.
Lightning fractured the pitch-black sky, followed instantly by a deafening crack of thunder that rattled the reinforced glass of the mansion. Suddenly, the entire estate plunged into absolute darkness as a lightning strike blew the main power transformer on the road.
The backup generators were scheduled to kick in after a thirty-second delay.
In that pitch-black silence, Dante stepped out of his study into the dark hallway. His hand instinctively dropped to the weapon holstered at his side.
He heard a sharp gasp of fear from the end of the corridor, followed by the sound of breaking glass.
Dante moved with lethal silence down the hall, navigating the darkness entirely from memory. He reached the top of the servant stairs.
"Who's there?" Elena's voice trembled in the dark. She had dropped a tray of water glasses in her panic.
"It's me," Dante said softly, stepping closer so she wouldn't be startled.
The emergency backup lights suddenly flickered on, casting a dim, eerie red glow over the hallway. Elena was pressed against the wall, her breathing ragged, clutching a heavy brass candlestick as a makeshift weapon.
When she saw Dante, the tension melted from her shoulders. She dropped the candlestick, letting out a shaky sigh. "The dark... it startled me. Sophia is afraid of the thunder."
Dante looked down at her. In the dim red light, stripped of her apron, she looked incredibly vulnerable, yet fiercely beautiful.
"You don't need to be afraid of the dark in my house, Elena," Dante murmured, stepping close enough to smell the faint scent of vanilla and flour on her skin.
Elena looked up into his intense, dark eyes. She saw the heavy burden of the impending violence resting on his broad shoulders.
"Mr. Moretti," she whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Are we going to survive tomorrow?"
Dante reached out, his large, calloused hand gently cupping her jaw. His thumb brushed softly across her cheekbone. The contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core.
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"I swear to you on my father's soul," Dante vowed, his voice a low, gravelly promise, "no harm will come to you or your daughter. I will burn this entire estate to the ground before I let anyone touch you."
Elena leaned into his touch for a fraction of a second, feeling the immense, terrifying safety of his presence, before the main power surged back on, flooding the hallway with blinding white light.
