Shades of Sins (New York Sinner Series Book 2)

12| Invitation

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Invitation

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Chapter 12: Invitation (Dante's POV)

After coming home that night, I needed a distraction, something that could take my mind off of Anastasia and all the thoughts of her that drove me mad. 

I had forgotten what it was like to have the mere thoughts of someone affect me like this, and it certainly wasn't something I missed. I had no intention of reliving my torture, but fate had other plans. 

With no other distraction worthy of my time, even after coming home, I continued to work on the case. I searched through all the evidence we had gathered so far over and over again, hoping something would stand out and provide a solid lead. 

Our priority was to find Monica Coleman, the gallery owner. Anastasia and I already butt heads and couldn't determine if she was more likely to be a suspect and an accomplice or another victim. 

Both of our instincts always lead us in opposite directions, and when we used to work together, it was advantageous because we would both be willing to explore each other's theories, but now it was all about proving the other person wrong. 

Arrogance and ego wouldn't get us anywhere. Not that I was one to talk; more than half the time, I was practically overflowing with them. It was past midnight, and I ended the night exactly where I had started it, with no further clues and not one answer to a question. 

Releasing a breath, I stood up and moved to go to my bedroom, but just as I did, my phone rang with an unknown number flashing on the screen. I answered, "Hello?" Mere silence greeted me in return. Pulling my phone away, I glanced at the screen in confusion, and doubtfully, I put the phone to my ear again, waiting to hear a response. 

Despite the silence, I could faintly hear the sound of steady breathing. Before I could press for an answer, someone scoffed, letting out a dry, dark chuckle, and then hung up instantly. My phone pinged with a text immediately after from the same number, and the message read very precise words. 

Monica Coleman. Hotel Allure. Room 322. 

Dread pooled in the deepest pits of my stomach as I realized once again just how dangerous the person we were dealing with could be. "Fuck," I cursed, grabbing my car keys and phone, rushing down the stairs and out of my apartment, getting in the elevator. 

On the way down, I tried Anastasia's number once and then again when she didn't answer. "Goddamn it," I mumbled, running out into the parking lot and getting in my car, speeding out, and heading straight for her apartment building. 

Instinctively, I knew something was wrong, and my very first thought was that perhaps Anastasia had been right. But if she was right and if Monica Coleman really was just another victim, then this might have been our final chance to get to her. Or... perhaps we were already too late. 

If that call and that message were from our culprit, as I suspected, then it was highly likely that we would walk into that room to a sight we were unprepared for, a gnarly and gruesome scene just like the gallery. Or if she was an accomplice, maybe her partner had outed her. On the way to Anastasia's apartment, I tried her phone repeatedly.