chapter 55
A/n: There will be mistakes. It will not be the best, but it is a filler chapter. I plan for action, drama and violence after this chapter.
The journey to the island began before sunrise, wrapped in that same quiet tension the estate had been carrying for days—but this time, it felt… contained. Directed. Controlled.
Ferial stood just outside the private airstrip, her small travel bag clutched tightly in her hands as she stared at the aircraft in front of her.
It wasn’t like the one she had flown in before.
This one was sleeker. Smaller. More… intimate.
And somehow, that made it worse.
“No,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “No, I don’t like this one.”
Dante, standing beside her, glanced at the plane and then back at her. “It’s the same concept.”
“It is not the same,” she insisted. “That one was bigger. This one looks like it could tip over if I breathe wrong.”
“It won’t tip over,” he said calmly.
“You don’t know that,” she shot back. “You’re not the one imagining falling out of the sky into the ocean and I cant even swim. I told you we had lakes and ponds in the district. Water cuts off and you are busy handwashing your laundry in public. Shit stain and all Dante. ”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly. “Ferial.”
She didn’t move.
“I’m serious,” she said, her voice dropping. “I don’t think I can do this.”
For a moment, he didn’t speak. He just watched her—really watched her—the way he always did when he was trying to understand instead of fix.
Then he reached for her bag, taking it gently from her grip.
“Okay,” he said simply.
She blinked. “Okay?”
“We’ll do this your way,” he said. “Slow.”
Before she could react, he took her hand.
Warm. Steady. Grounding.
“Look at me and breathe,” he said.
She did.
“You’re not alone in this,” he continued quietly. “You don’t have to be brave by yourself.”
Her throat tightened.
“I’ll be with you the entire time,” he added. “If you panic, you tell me. If you want to stop, we stop. If you want to turn around, we turn around. Within reason ofcourse.”
Her fingers tightened around his.
“…We’re already here,” she muttered.
A small smile tugged at his mouth. “Exactly.”
He didn’t rush her.
He walked with her.
One step at a time.
Up the stairs.
Onto the plane.
She hesitated at the doorway.
“I don’t like this,” she whispered.
“I know but im with you all the way Ferial,” he said.
Then, without asking, he guided her inside and straight into one of the seats—pulling her gently down beside him before she could think too much.
The moment she sat, her hands gripped the armrests.
“This is a mistake,” she muttered. “I knew it. I should’ve stayed in the estate. I could’ve watched the ocean from a picture.”
Dante buckled her in calmly, then did the same for himself.
“You’re thinking too far ahead,” he said.
“That’s because ahead looks like death to me.”
He huffed a quiet laugh despite himself.
“Talk to me. Tell me something,” he said.
She blinked. “About what?”
“Anything,” he said. “Distract yourself.”
She swallowed.
Then shook her head. “No, you distract me. This was your idea.”
He leaned back slightly, studying her.
“No,” he said. “You talk.”
She frowned. “Why me?”
“Because,” he said, voice softer now, “your voice grounds you. And I want to hear it.”
She hesitated. "So my voice doesn't even ground you? Wow Dante! What a mate."
The engine hummed louder.
Her grip tightened.
“…Fine,” she muttered. “But if I die, I’m blaming you.”
“Noted.”
She took a breath.
“Okay… um…” She paused, then let out a small laugh. “There was this one time… my grandmother almost beat me in front of a patrol officer.”
Dante raised a brow. “Almost?”
“Oh no,” Ferial said quickly. “She would have. The patrol just got there first.”
His interest sharpened instantly. “Explain.”
She shifted slightly in her seat, still gripping his hand now instead of the armrest.
“I was… not a well-behaved child especially with Abdie,” she admitted.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Don’t lie,” she said. “You absolutely do.”
He smirked faintly. “Continue. Where Abdie is concerned I have come to believe it.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile crept in.
“I skipped my chores one day,” she said. “And not just skipped—I disappeared. Me and Abdie had decided we were going to ‘fix’ something.”
“That sounds dangerous already.”
“It was,” she said proudly. “There was this broken light post near the edge of the district. We thought if we could get it working again, maybe patrols would stop using that corner so much.”
Dante blinked. “You tried to rewire a patrol light post?”
“We were very ambitious children,” she defended.
“And?”
“And we broke it more,” she admitted. “Like… sparks. Smoke. Entire section went dark.”
Dante let out a quiet breath of disbelief.
“And then,” she continued, “a patrol unit showed up. Of course. Because now it looked like sabotage.”
“And you were caught?”
“Oh, immediately,” she said. “I tried to run. Abdie tripped. I tripped over him. We both fell."
Dante actually laughed.
“And your grandmother?” he asked.
Ferial groaned. “She had just come home from work. Tired. Covered in dust. And she sees me being held by a patrol officer like I’m some kind of criminal mastermind.”
“That must have gone well.”
“She took off her shoe,” Ferial said flatly.
Dante choked on a laugh. “No.”
“Yes,” she said. “Right there. In front of the patrol.”
“And?”
“And she told them to let me go so she could ‘handle the situation properly.’”
Dante leaned back, shaking his head. “I would have paid to see that.”
“I was fighting for my life,” she said dramatically. “The patrol officer actually stepped back like he was scared.”
“That’s impressive.”
“She chased me halfway down the street,” Ferial said, laughing now despite herself. “And then made me apologize to the officer. And the light post.”
“The light post?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “Because ‘even broken things deserve respect.’”
Dante stilled slightly at that.
“That sounds familiar,” he murmured.
Ferial smiled softly. “Yeah. It stuck.”
The plane lifted up into the air.
Smooth.
Steady.
Ferial froze—
Then blinked.
“…Wait,” she said slowly. “We’re in the air?”
Dante nodded.
She looked out the window cautiously. Then a little more. Clouds stretched beneath them like soft white oceans. Her grip on his hand loosened slightly.
“I didn’t die,” she whispered.
“Not yet,” he said dryly.
She elbowed him lightly. “Don’t ruin my moment.”
He watched her instead.
The way her fear shifted into wonder.
The way her shoulders relaxed, just slightly.
“You’re doing well,” he said quietly.
She glanced at him.
“…You helped alot.”
By the time they landed, Ferial was leaning slightly toward the window, watching everything with quiet awe instead of fear.
The air that greeted them when they stepped off the plane was warm. Different. It carried salt, humidity, and something alive she couldn’t quite name.
“This is…” she trailed off.
“Hawaii,” Dante said.
She turned slowly, taking in the distant line of ocean, the lush greenery, the sky that seemed too big.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“It gets better,” he said.
They were escorted into a vehicle, though the presence was lighter here—less suffocating than the estate, more discreet.
The drive to the villa was quiet, but not tense.
Ferial pressed her face lightly to the window, watching everything—palm trees, winding roads, flashes of blue ocean between cliffs.
“This doesn’t feel real,” she said softly.
“It is real,” Dante replied.
The villa, when they arrived, was tucked into the landscape like it belonged there—wood, glass, open space, and the sound of waves not too far off.
Ferial stepped out slowly.
Turning in a full circle.
“Dante…”
“Yes?”
“I think I love it here.”
He watched her, something soft settling in his expression.
“Good, but you need to actually go sightseeing to fall inlove,” he said.
She turned back to him, smiling.
“What now?”
He stepped closer, taking her bag again without thinking.
“Now,” he said, “I take you sightseeing now.”
Her eyes lit up. “Before food?”
“Yes.”
“That’s serious work,” she said.
“It is.”
She laughed, slipping her hand into his.
“Okay,” she said. “Show me the world.”