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Movie

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Chapter 31: Movie (Anastasia's POV)

Nothing prepared me for the sight of Dante when I woke up the next morning. I felt his soft morning kisses slowly trail from my neck to my shoulder and down my arm before I even opened my eyes. 

Stirring lightly, I mumbled through a tiny grin, "What are you doing?" 

"Hmm?" he hummed against my skin, his lips brushing against my ear. 

I couldn't help but shift slightly as a laugh crawled up my throat. "That tickles," I chuckled, finally opening my eyes. 

He stopped with one final lingering kiss and rested his chin on my shoulder. 

Taking a breath, I took his free hand that rested on my hip and began lightly tracing his knuckles. "We have to go to work," I reminded him. 

A part of me was a little scared that those words would shatter whatever magical spell had created this reality around us, but to my surprise, he hardly seemed bothered by it. 

"I think we can take our time this morning, Ms Vitalio," he replied, turning onto his back as I flipped over to face him. "We have all the time in the world." 

I lifted my brows slightly. "Do we really?" With the case on our hands and the circumstances we faced last night, I highly doubted that. 

Blinking slowly, he lifted a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. "One day, we truly will." 

I hummed in agreement. "Unfortunately, that day isn't today, is it?" 

"No," he mumbled, staring at me. 

Last night, we'd crossed a line we'd been dancing on the edge of for what felt like an eternity. We agreed to finally give in and let each other into our lives despite knowing that once we did, we would be far too deeply entangled with each other to walk away. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't doubtful. 

With our pasts looming over us like dark clouds, falling deeper into each other came with its own risks, but because it was Dante, those risks were worth it. It was a gamble I was willing to make. I was adamant that no matter how dark, Dante's past wasn't going to drive me away from him. 

Although I wasn't sure if he would feel the same after truly knowing me, I hoped and trusted him enough to give it my all. I didn't want to hide any parts of myself from him because he was the one person who truly made me feel seen and heard without judgment clouding his vision. All I could do was hope my past wouldn't taint that. 

Pushing up onto my elbow, I scooted a little closer to him. "We have a long day ahead of us. Should we get started?" I asked. 

He shook his head slowly. "Not yet." 

I laughed, "Dante—" 

"Not yet, Anastasia. Just let me lay here with you a little longer." 

My gaze softened, and I felt myself giving in, my resolve crumbling. 

"Just a little longer," he repeated, pulling me in with an arm secured around my waist. 

A few minutes passed with us simply staying in bed together. Not knowing what we'd discover walking into the office today, thoughts of the case began plaguing my mind. 

"Penny for your thoughts, Mia Cara?" 

"I'm just wondering..." Lifting my head off his chest, I met his gaze. "What do you think we'll find today? On that camera." 

He let out a soft sigh. "Whatever it is, I'm hoping it tells us about more than just the way Adeline was killed. If we don't get a lead on the killer... I'm afraid of how far behind we are in this case." 

The culprit was slowly slipping from our fingertips, and the thought of never catching him or her was terrifying. 

"Me too," I mumbled, "but we'll figure it out. We have a reputation, Mr Rossi." 

"Oh, yeah?" he mused. 

"Yeah," I nodded, "you and I have never failed when we've worked together. I'd hate for this to be our first." 

He nodded in agreement. "Let's get to work then." 

"Shall we?" I asked, lifting my brows at him in amusement. 

Almost immediately, he shook his head frantically, a laugh bubbling out of him. "I don't want to." 

"Come on," I laughed with him as I sat up and grabbed hold of his arm, tugging him into an upright position. 

His arm went around my waist in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it, he was tugging me back into bed, his fingers poking, prodding, and tinkling my waist as he kissed my cheek. A small scream escaped me as he tickled me harder until I finally fought my way out of his grasp and rushed out of bed. 

"We'll be late," I said, grinning uncontrollably. 

Still laughing softly, he stared at me from the mess we'd made of my bed. It happened rarely, so when I heard him laughing and saw the flush coating his cheeks, the different directions his hair fluffed up in, and heard his laugh, it felt almost... precious. 

I took a step closer to the bed, and he reached forward, which made me jump back. 

Playfully rolling his eyes, he gave up and patted the bed. "Come on, Mia Cara. I don't bite." 

I shot him a pointed look. "Liar." 

"Until you ask," he corrected. 

Grabbing my pillow, I flung it at him. "Come on. We have to go." 

Groaning, he fell back onto the bed while I slipped into the bathroom. Within an hour, I was dressed and ready for the day ahead of me, while Dante had barely managed to throw on the same clothes from last night. 

"Go home," I told him as we made our way to my car. "You should freshen up and then come to the office." 

Opening the driver's side door, he rested an elbow on it. "Don't investigate anything on your own," he replied, "wait till I get to the office." 

I nodded in agreement, "Mm-hmm." 

He arched a brow at me. "I mean it, Anastasia." 

"I know," I told him, "I'll listen to you, I promise. I'll wait until you get there." 

He nodded slowly as my eyes dipped to the tie loosely hanging around his neck. 

"See you there," I mused. 

Catching my chin before I slipped into the car, he leaned forward and closed the distance between us, leaving a soft kiss against my lips. "See you there, Ms Vitalio," he smirked before walking off to his car. 

I took my time driving to work solely so the temptation to go through evidence without Dante wouldn't get to me. After stopping by a nearby café to grab a quick breakfast, I made it to the office and went straight to Marshall's cabin. 

"I heard last night was quite hectic," Marshall said as I took a seat across from him. "Are you okay, honey?" 

I nodded slowly, setting my coffee cup on the table. "I'm okay. Did the police give us the evidence?" 

Sighing, he opened a drawer and grabbed a plastic evidence bag, setting it before me. 

"Did you go through it?" I questioned. 

"No. I thought it was something you and Dante should take the reins on. He isn't here yet?" 

"He's on the way." 

Marshall nodded in response briefly before growing still. I lifted my brows in question, and his eyes narrowed on me almost immediately. A long pause passed between us. "What?" I finally asked. 

"You look different today, Ana." 

"Different?" 

"Hmm... Did something happen? Between you and Dante?" 

Last time, we'd managed to stay under Marshall's radar until Dante... Well, until he breached orders and went underground without warning. Marshall seemed to have picked up on it a lot faster this time. 

Even though I didn't know the details of what Dante had done, I knew he had killed someone he wasn't ordered to, but I always wondered why the situation escalated to the point where he lost his job. 

"What do you mean?" I played dumb. 

With a dry laugh, Marshall said, "If you fooled me twice, shame on me, Anastasia. I'm not blind." 

"What are you talking about?" I chuckled. "Nothing happened. It's hard enough that I have to work with him on this case, I don't need to—" 

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" 

My breath got caught in my throat, the question catching me off guard. "No," I sputtered, "I'm not in love with him. I'm not." 

Marshall nodded slowly. "Okay." 

"Marshall," I said pointedly, "I'm not." 

"Not yet?" 

I sighed in annoyance. "Not ever." 

His lip twitched. "Okay." 

"I—" Before I could continue the argument, there was a knock on the door, and when I turned around, Dante stood at the door. 

"Come on in," Marshall told him. Taking a breath, I forced my eyes away from Dante. "Shall we?" Marshall asked, gesturing toward the camera sitting on the desk. 

"May I?" Dante asked, taking hold of it.

"Go ahead," Marshall replied. 

Swiping the camera off the counter, Dante smoothly connected it to Marshall's laptop before turning to the screen against the wall and air playing everything onto the screen. 

As the first video came into sight, Dante looked at me. "You don't have to watch this if you're uncomfortable," he reminded me. 

"I know," I said, "I'll leave if it's too much." 

He stared at me for a beat until I gave him a nod of reassurance. 

The video lasted almost an entire hour with no cuts in between. Sitting through it grew harder by the second as I watched the killer torture Adeline Vaughn with such brutality. I had to look away several times, and I had no idea how Dante and Marshall managed to watch it without flinching. 

With each passing minute, I started to feel sick, and just when I thought I couldn't handle it anymore, the video ended. Surely, several clues were hidden within it, but I knew I didn't have the stomach to sit through that again. 

But the one question we needed the answer to most desperately was still left unanswered. Who was the killer? 

Judging from the physique and build of the person on tape, it was undoubtedly a man. Tall, probably six feet or more. He was fairly well built, not exactly muscular, but lean and toned. Each move, every strike he took, had such force and strength exuding from him. 

He was masked. Instead of a typical clown, character, or Halloween mask, he wore a black medical mask, covering his nose and everything beneath it while a black baseball cap kept his eyes and hair out of sight. 

"Wait," I mumbled, staring at the screen as the video came to an end. 

His face remained concealed, but blond hair peeked out beneath the edges of his cap. 

Dante took a breath as he turned to me. "You're thinking it's Ethan?" 

I nodded slowly. "Even more than I already did." 

"What gives it away?" Marshall asked in confusion. "He's keeping himself concealed." 

"The hair," I said, "it's blond. I haven't seen a lot of blond men with hair so light, have you?" 

His hair was slightly dirty blond but had no hints of darkness. A pale golden on each and every strand with the softest brown peeking through the roots. His hair was slightly long in the back, just like Ethan's was. 

"It's him," I mumbled, "I swear to God, it has to be." 

"What if—" Marshall was quickly cut off by the sound of static playing through his computer as the screen went black completely. 

I turned to Dante. "What happened?" 

"I don't know, give me a second," he breathed out, clicking out of the video. Only when he went to replay it did an entirely different video begin playing instead. Not just one but a series of videos. Home movies. 

The camera was set aside in a field with a young boy's back facing it and the same head of pale blond hair clearly visible. "Are you ready?!" someone yelled from a distance. 

"Yeah!" the kid shouted enthusiastically, ready to swing the baseball bat in his hand. He hit the ball with all his might before dropping his bat and jumping ecstatically, running over to the camera and scooping it up. 

When the child's face was finally revealed, it was with a toothless grin and shabby blond hair falling over his eyes while a pink flush coated his cheeks. "I beat Daddy again," he giggled. 

Before the video could finish, a gray static screen replaced it again, and a new video began playing. This one was even older but showed the same kid at a younger age running around a backyard, dancing and playing while sprinklers went off around him. 

It was like a movie about this kid's life as he grew older, showing every stage. The person filming could be heard laughing, an older man's rich, deep voice clearly audible. "You'll catch a cold, Ethan!" he yelled. 

Dante and I exchanged a glance. 

"No, I won't!" the kid screamed, continuing to chase the air. 

Several videos of that kind played with the child always visible but the man behind the camera never being revealed. Until the last one. It was in an art studio. 

The man was seated on a stool, his face out of frame, but everything below his chest was revealed while he worked on a canvas hidden from view. The paint staining his clothes and hands gave it away, along with the occasional glimpse of a brush in his hand. 

In the background, the door opened, and the same kid, Ethan, tiptoed in hesitantly. "What are you working on, Daddy?" he asked quietly, staring at the painting. 

The man replied with a soft laugh, "Just a little painting, son." 

"Is that her?" 

"Her?" the man asked in confusion. 

"That girl. You called her little dove." 

My blood ran cold the second that nickname poured through the speakers. 

"Little dove?" the man questioned, turning to face his son. "Where did you hear that?" 

He was scared now, not knowing how to respond to his Dad as if he were caught doing something he was forbidden from. "I went into the basement, Daddy," he whispered. 

"Ethan," the man sighed, reaching for the camera to shut it off. Only before he did, his face was finally revealed between the gaps of his fingers that covered the lens. 

It grew harder to breathe until it was almost impossible. My heart was pounding beneath my rib cage, blood flowing in my ears. My breaths wouldn't go past my throat, my chest grew heavier like a weight was sitting on it, slowly suffocating me. 

It's him. It's him. 

I shot up out of my seat so fast the chair went reeling back, and even though my knees almost gave out from beneath me, I caught myself using the desk. 

Both Marshall and Dante turned to me in shock. "What's wrong?" Dante asked, taking a step toward me. 

"I have to go," I rushed out, beginning to hyperventilate now. "I can't- can't breathe in here," I gasped, taking a step back and toward the door. I stumbled over my own feet and almost lost my balance, barely catching myself as Dante rushed to hold me. "I'm fine," I forced out, still avoiding their eyes. "I just have to go." 

"Anastasia," Dante said quietly, "talk to me." 

I shook my head quickly. "I can't... I promised. He's going to kill me if I do." 

A flicker of realization passed through Dante's eyes, but desperation hit me in the gut before he could say anything.

"I have to go," I mumbled, turning around and running out of the room. 

It was him. The man I spent my entire life fearing, the man that ruined my childhood. He stole everything from me, including my sister. He ruined me, he ruined my family, he took everything. I had no doubt it was him. 

Isaiah Morales. 

And if that boy in those videos really was his son and it truly was Ethan... Suddenly, everything clicked into place. 

My abductor, Isaiah Morales, and Ethan... was his son.

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Chapter 31

I really said double update and then went ghost lmao

I'm so sorry y'all, but I got so busy going through some processes for university and submitting documents and all that crap

I'm going to try to update as often as I can, but if I can't, you can still expect at least one update a week, that's always going to happen; don't worry!

Don't hate me pleaseee

and please leave some comments to keep me motivated :p

next ch: darkness