Chapter 7: The Wolf's Eye
The men moved like shadows—silent, trained, dangerous. At Dante's command, three of them were already peeling through Evelyn's digital trail: phone calls, purchases, addresses. The others were dispatched to follow every physical thread—neighbors, hospitals, schools.
No trace of her past five years would remain hidden.
Dante stood at the massive window of his penthouse, staring out at the city like it owed him something. His jaw clenched as the screen behind him flickered with CCTV footage of Evelyn entering the club earlier that night.
She'd changed.
But not enough.
He still saw the woman who had once stood by his side—unflinching, proud, ruthless when necessary. The woman who had walked away from him in the blood-soaked aftermath of his father's death.
And now, the mother of his sons.
His throat tightened.
Children. Twins. His twins.
He had nearly killed the man who brought him that photo—until he'd looked closely and seen it. That look in their eyes. That unmistakable fire. The truth written in their small faces like an ancient bloodline awakened.
Dante didn't believe in coincidences. Evelyn hadn't just returned out of guilt or nostalgia. She'd walked into the lion's den with something to protect.
And that made her dangerous.
"Find out who's been watching her," he said without turning. "Not just where she's been. I want to know who else is already in her shadow."
Behind him, the room crackled with quiet movement. His men never answered aloud. Obedience was assumed. He had trained them that way.
---
Meanwhile
Evelyn moved quickly through the back streets of the city, her hood pulled low, her coat wrapped tight. Rain began to mist the pavement, smearing the lights and softening the corners of the night.
She didn't need to be told she was being followed.
She felt it.
The weight of a presence just out of view. A rhythm in the air disrupted by the soundless step of someone with practice.
She ducked into a narrow alley behind a shuttered pharmacy. Trash bins. Broken neon. A camera hung tilted on its hinge, long dead.
Perfect cover.
She waited.
Footsteps approached—soft, deliberate.
Then she turned fast, arm swinging hard, and slammed a figure against the wall with a dull thud.
"Talk," she hissed.
The man groaned, raising both hands. "I'm not here to hurt you."
"Then what are you?"
"Your warning."
Her grip faltered for a breath. "What?"
"They know about the boys," he said, wincing. "And not just Dante. Someone else."
The alley grew colder in an instant.
"You've been followed for weeks," he continued. "Whoever it is—they're careful. Slippery. They've erased almost every digital trace of their surveillance. That's not normal."
"Who are you?" she demanded.
He gave her a tired smile. "Someone who's lost more than you ever want to. Someone who knows the look in your eyes."
He gently pushed himself off the wall and staggered down the alley's far side before she could stop him. She didn't chase.
She couldn't.
Evelyn stood there, frozen, heart pounding, breath fogging in the damp air.
Someone was hunting her boys.
And it wasn't Dante.
---
Elsewhere
Leo stood at the living room window, small hands pressed to the cool glass. His breath made little clouds that faded just as quickly as they formed.
Luca sat on the couch with his stuffed lion, the one with the missing ear. He was quiet—too quiet. Not even pretending the bear was talking today.
Their sitter, Annie, was in the kitchen on the phone. Laughing. Distracted.
Leo didn't like it.
Something felt… wrong.
The street below was too quiet. The black car parked across the road hadn't moved in over an hour. No one got out. No one got in. It just sat there. Watching.
Leo turned. "Luca."
His brother looked up, blinking.
"If someone knocks, don't open the door. Not even a little."
"Why?"
"Just don't. Promise?"
Luca nodded, hugging the lion tighter.
Leo stepped away from the window, feeling the weight of something he didn't have words for. Something heavy and sharp and invisible.
He was only five. But he was Evelyn's son.
And that meant he had instincts no child should need.
---
Back at the Club
Dante poured himself a glass of whiskey, the crystal clinking softly as he set the bottle down. He didn't drink it. Just stared at the amber liquid like it held answers he couldn't stomach.
"She was protecting them," he muttered.
He hated the truth of it. Hated that she had hidden something from him this big. Hated that she hadn't trusted him. Or maybe... had trusted him too well.
His phone buzzed. A single vibration. No ringtone.
He picked up without looking.
"They were seen outside a pediatrician's office two weeks ago," said one of his men. "Security cameras picked up a black SUV tailing them for three days after."
"Plate?"
"Blank. No registration. Likely modified."
"Who else knows?"
"We're still digging."
Dante ended the call and finally brought the glass to his lips.
He didn't drink.
His fingers tightened around the glass instead.
There were rules in his world. Rules even the monsters respected. But someone had crossed a line—by watching Evelyn. By watching his sons.
That made this personal.
And if someone moved faster than he did...
The boys would be the price.