al, but he saw the flicker of something else beneath the surface. She wasn't just some journalist sniffing around for a mafia scandal. No-this was personal to her. The question was, why? Hi

anger level with the cold precision of someone who had nothing left to lose. Interesting. Dante turned back to her. "Tell me something, Aria." She raised a brow. "I'm not feeling very talkative." His lips twitched. "Oh, I think you are. You just haven't decided which version of the truth to give me yet." Silence. Then, she sighed, tilting her head. "Fine. What do you want to know?" Dante took slow steps toward her, keeping his gaze locked on hers. "You weren't just looking for dirt on the Moretti family. You were looking for something bigger. Something personal." Aria's fingers flexed slightly against the armrest of the chair-the first real sign of tension. Dante stopped in front of her, lowering his voice. "What did Milo know?" Aria met his gaze, unreadable. "Why does it matter? He's dead." "That's exactly why it matters." Dante wasn't a fool. Milo had been willing to give Aria information. But someone else had wanted him silenced. The real question wasn't just what Milo knew it was who wanted it buried so badly they were willing to kill for it. And whether Aria realized it or not, she was now the only link to that truth. Luca exhaled sharply. "This is a waste of time, Dante. She's not going to talk." Dante turned, his gaze flicking to his second-in-command. "She will." Luca frowned. "How can you be so sure?" Dante smirked, looking back at Aria. "Because she needs me just as mu