Alina’s gaze flicked toward the pickup truck behind them, making sure all the supplies were loaded safely. Once she saw everything secured, she gave Dante a small nod, but her expression stayed heavy. Her earlier excitement was gone, replaced by the quiet weight of what had happened.
Dante’s jaw tightened into a thin, unreadable line. He wasn’t used to seeing her . Just minutes ago, she had been moving through the shop with bright eyes and an easy smile, chatting about nap mats and garlands. Now she grew quiet, and her eyes carried a sadness that was hard to miss.
They both got into the car. The pickup truck rumbled to life behind them, falling into place as they began the drive back. Alina’s hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, but her mind was elsewhere. She barely noticed when Dante shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze fixed on her.
"Who are they?" he asked suddenly, his voice calm but carrying a subtle edge.
Alina’s lips pressed together before she answered, her tone clipped. "He’s the café owner’s son... from the place where I used to work. And Celeste is a waitress there. I always rejected him, and... from then on, he’s been ."
Dante’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he gave a short nod as if committing the information to memory. Then, after a moment, he spoke again, his tone quieter but steady. "You know his words aren’t true."
Her brows furrowed faintly, and she glanced at him, unsure. "Huh?"
"That no man would want to date you," Dante clarified, his voice as factual as if he were stating the weather. "That isn’t true."
For a moment, Alina just stared at him. The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard—he wasn’t trying to comfort her with empty words. He meant it.
"You’re a good woman," he continued, his gaze still on the road ahead. "You’re good with children. You’re steady. You... seem like someone worth keeping..."
A faint, startled laugh almost escaped her, but instead, she found her cheeks warming. Her heart gave a strange little skip, and she quickly looked away toward the windshield. "O-oh... I see..." she murmured, gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter, trying to ignore the heat rising to her face.
Dante didn’t press further, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he noticed.
Riccardo’s cruel voice slowly faded into the background of her thoughts, replaced instead by the weight of Dante’s words. For him, they had been spoken so casually, almost as if they were nothing more than an honest observation in passing... yet for her, they struck something deep, something she didn’t quite know how to name. She could still hear the quiet certainty in his tone, the way he hadn’t said it to flatter her, but because he truly believed it. It was strange—no one had ever said something like that to her before, not in a way that felt so genuine.
Her hands eased their grip on the steering wheel as they drove, the hum of the car filling the silence between them. Every now and then, she sneaked a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He sat calmly in the passenger seat, his broad shoulders almost filling the space, the green of his eyes catching bits of passing streetlight. For someone who could look so cold and intimidating, he seemed unusually relaxed... though his presence still filled the small car entirely.
By the time they finally pulled up to the kindergarten gates, the sky had shifted to a deep indigo, the stars faint but scattered above like distant candles. The air felt cooler here, quieter, as though the noise of the city had been left far behind.
"It’s late," Dante said as he stepped out, his voice carrying in the stillness. "We’ll put everything in the storage room for now."
Alina nodded quickly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek. "Right. I can sort and decorate tomorrow," she said, already picturing where each new item would go—the cork board by the reading corner, the colourful mats spread across the play area, the little rainbow chairs around the table. The thought sent a small ripple of excitement through her, chasing away the heaviness that had settled earlier.
Without another word, Dante lifted his hand slightly. The air seemed to thicken for a moment before a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness beside him—tall, dark, and silent, yet carrying an unmistakable aura of obedience.
"Take the heavier boxes," Dante ordered. The shadow dipped its head in silent acknowledgment before gliding toward the truck.
Alina blinked at the sudden appearance but didn’t comment; she had seen enough strange things around him to know this was hardly the most surprising. She moved to help with the lighter boxes, stacking them neatly in the storage room while Dante and his shadow handled the rest with unnerving ease.
The shadow moved almost soundlessly, its inky form bending and shifting as it carried load after load. In less than half the time she expected, everything was inside, neatly piled in one corner.
Alina stepped back, brushing her hands against her skirt. "Tomorrow’s going to be... fun," she murmured to herself, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Dante glanced at her but said nothing, only giving a slight nod before dismissing the shadow with a wave of his hand. It melted into the floor like ink into water, leaving them alone again in the quiet hallway.
"Good night," Alina said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that hadn’t been there earlier in the evening. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, managing a small smile despite the heaviness that still lingered from what had happened. "It’s getting late, sir... I should leave." She hesitated for a heartbeat, then added more quietly, "And... thank you for everything."
Dante’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his green eyes calm but unreadable in the dim light of the hallway. He gave a slow nod, his tone steady and deliberate as he replied, "Good... night."