There was more silence before Maroni addressed someone. “Is it him?”
Whiskey and sin confirmed her worst fear. “It is.”
A loud sigh left someone and Morana shut down her laptop, her hands shaking. It was a fluke. For sure, it was a fluke. Because if Dante was dead, there was no way Tristan could be so calm. Or could he? He had seen so much death, killed so many people – he could stay calm in the face of death, even of a loved one.
The sudden vibration of her phone made her jerk, her eyes widening as she saw the caller id.
Amara.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck!
She shouldn’t answer. She really shouldn’t talk to Amara right now. But the other woman had told her so many truths; it was the least Morana could do.
Fuck.
She answered and stayed silent, not knowing how to even begin.
Her friend stayed silent for a long minute before her soft, raspy voice asked quietly. “Is it true?”
Morana swallowed, giving her the truth, her own voice shaky. “I don’t know.”
She heard Amara inhale sharply on the other end. “What happened?”
“There was a fire at the club,” Morana told her, gripping the phone tightly in her hand. “I don’t know what happened exactly but his phone was there and they found a body with his clothes and watch.”
“But?” Amara urged, her breathy voice pained.
“But I don’t know,” Morana confessed. “Until I can talk to Tristan myself, I don’t want to believe anyone.”
“What’s the alternative?” Amara asked, her voice slowly calming down.
“Maybe someone abducted him?” Morana suggested.
Amara chuckled but the sound wasn’t amused. “You don’t just abduct Dante Maroni, Morana. He’s too smart and too skilled for that.”
Morana looked out the window, letting the wheels in her brain turn. “So you mean to say that if he’s alive and missing-”
“-then he’s done it deliberately,” Amara completed.
“Well, shit,” Morana sat down on the couch, flummoxed. “But why would he?”
Amara stayed silent for a long minute. “I’m done caring, Morana. You’ve been a good friend to me. Thank you.”
The flat tone in her voice suddenly startled Morana’s heart with alarm. “Amara-”
“Take care, Morana.”
The line went dead.
What the hell?
Morana redialled the number, only to find it unavailable. Reasoning with herself, Morana tried to calm her heart down and allow Amara to have her space to process everything. She couldn’t even imagine what the other woman must be going through, and she needed to chill and not make it about her.
Exhaling a long breath, Morana locked up and headed upstairs, thinking on what Amara had said. She stripped and stole a t-shirt from Tristan’s side of the closet, quickly washing her face and brushing her teeth. If Dante wasn’t dead than he had disappeared deliberately. Why? Why hide that from her and Tristan?