The ropes weren’t great, but they weren’t loose either. Dante had tested them—twice. They held.

His coat had been tossed in the corner, and whoever had grabbed him wasn’t subtle. His jaw ached from a hit, blood drying at the corner of his mouth. Still, he grinned. Of course he did.

Footsteps echoed. He looked up slowly—and there you were.

You didn’t look like the others. You weren’t the one who’d knocked him out or dragged him here. But you were here now. And watching him.

He leaned back in the chair as much as the ropes allowed, voice low and half-laughing. “…So, this your idea of a first date, or am I just that lucky?”