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- Lucifer -

Carefully, I carried Delilah back to her home bridal style, her head resting on my chest. I knocked on the door with my foot and it opened quicker than expected. 

Dante's distressed face was the first thing I saw. 

But as soon as he saw his daughter, his tense body relaxed. He then looked up at me with an expression I couldn't decipher. 

"Why are you holding her?" he asked, and I chuckled a little on the inside. 

That's the first thing he asks?

Classic dad

"She fell asleep and I didn't want to wake her up."

I answered truthfully and he nodded slowly, unsurely.

"Give her to me," he ordered, disappointing me. 

After a short pause, I shook my head and passed her over gently, ensuring that she stays asleep and doesn't fall. He started to walk away with her in his arms, most likely to put her in her room. 

I sighed sadly. 

That ended too quickly

I wanted to go inside with her, stay by her side and make sure she's okay after everything that occured. 

But I can't.

Shortly after, he returned, now empty handed and stood in front of me. 

"Come sit and tell me exactly what happened."

I nodded and went to sit down on the couch, alongside Dante. 

He motioned for me to begin. 

"We were about to come home, then we heard gunshots, I told Dior to stay in a storage closet whilst I dealt with the situation. I killed two, and took a picture of one of the men because they were wearing this mask with a weird symbol on in it. I called Dominic for back up, and they handled the rest," I explained briefly and anger practically seethed off Dante, his fists clenched and eyebrows furrowed. 

"You left her on her own?"

"I had to, she would've gotten-"

I stopped myself before I could finish my sentence. 

I don't want to say it. 

"Show me."

I pulled out my phone, showing him the picture I took. 

His eyes grew, he was evidently disturbed by what he is seeing. 

Confused, I raise an eyebrow at him. 

He cleared his throat, an uneasy look etched on his face. 

"I know who they are, it'll be dealt with," he spoke through gritted teeth, leaning back on his armchair. 

His veins were pulsating, an indication that he was fucking pissed. 

And I want to know why. 

"Who are they?"

"A past acquaintance."

Very brief answer, he probably doesn't want to speak about it. It has to be something personal to them, I know Dante and I know he wouldn't react this way about a random gang with little experience. 

As much as I don't want to pry, I was aching to know what is going on. 

Maybe Delilah will tell me. 

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