Turns out, the venue Dante had used for his murderous party was actually a large office building. He must have not felt like actually renting a place when he was planning on killing most of the people attending. 

Made sense. 

Why he had an apartment in it was another oddity Luan didn’t have time to dwell on. He exited the building like there was a pack of hounds at his heels ready to tear him apart if he lingered. 

The strangest part was that he didn’t run into a single soul on his way out. None of the goons or bodies had been present, not even the police came to take away the ones responsible. Just nothing. 

Luan had decided the police were useless, and can’t be trusted. He literally had a kidnapped little girl in the back of his car, got pulled over, and was let off without so much as a warning. That’s just negligence to the max degree. All the citizens in this city were doomed. 

Especially with Dante going around throwing homicidal cupcakes at people. 

Luan sighed, dragging his hands down his face as he looked up at the darkened sky. Too much artificial light prevented him from finding any stars, not that he was looking. Luan didn’t have time for stars. He had people who were probably planning the best way to stash his body for ditching out on his party partner. Did Miles survive? He hadn’t thought to check. Not that it would really be a loss, but his father would probably find a way to blame him for it. 

Pulling out his phone, which he’d forgotten he had in the heat of being kidnapped like a sack of flour, he found he indeed had some missed calls. Sixty-three to be exact. 

Twenty-three were from his father, seven from Marcilla. 

He was surprised to find the most had been from Arlan. Guess he had tried to get in contact, after all. 

Out of all the options, he decided Arlan was the most important. The other’s just wanted to chew him out, so no point rushing to that experience. 

It took longer than he’d expected for the call to go through, considering how desperate the man seemed to get a hold of him. When Arlan finally answered, he was out of breath, and led with a very sunny, 

“What!?”

A huff slipped past Luan’s lips at the greeting. 

“You called me, traitor.” He didn’t appreciate the zero warning before that disaster of a party. 

“Luan?” Arlan had actually had to check, so maybe he really was busy at the moment. Luan hummed, waiting for the annoying turd to get on with whatever he felt would measure up as a good enough excuse for almost letting him die. 

“How am I a traitor? I've been looking everywhere for you, and you’re the one with the weird secrets regarding the man that just ruined my entire night!” Arlan accused, not even flinching at the fact he clearly knew more about this night's plans than he’d bothered to warn. 

“Yeah, well. I was a little busy trying not to die! And don’t even try to distract me, I know you knew something about what was going to happen tonight. Thanks so much for the warning, by the way!” Luan scoffed through the call, making sure Arlan knew that he knew about his pathetic antics. 

There was a pause, like Arlan was trying to think of a good excuse, or maybe just figure out exactly how much Luan actually knew. 

“Listen….. I didn’t know until it was practically happening, and I tried to find you. It’s complicated, okay?” Arlan sounded like he was actually kind of sorry. 

“We can’t talk over the phone. Meet me at the Petit Crumpet, down by the bowling alley, K? I have to go.” He hung up before Luan even had the chance to say if he would meet or not. Arrogant jerk. 

Not like he wouldn’t go, seeing as he was the one who wanted answers, but still. Arlan was such a prick sometimes. And all the time. Luan kind of hated the guy. 

A sharp sigh shot from his lungs as he started walking. The curse of having arrived with his disgusting date. He had to walk. 

It was probably a good idea to be getting away from this place anyway, seeing as he had just kicked the man with poison up his sleeves in his giant manhood. He’s basically copped a feel with his foot, and it was huge. Ugh. 

At this time of night, the streets were less full then he would have preferred, what with the creepy jitters racing along his skin. He still looked like he was on his way to a party, crumpled and haggard though he was. The shoulder ride may have wrinkled his suit a bit. 

Signs lit up the buildings with neon light, advertising everything someone could possibly go looking for. Luckily, the bowling alley only took forty minutes to walk to. And what an enjoyable walk it was. Head circling through the events of the night, numbing death littering each memory that wasn’t tainted with the excruciating moments Dante was present. 

That man was dangerous, in more than one way. 

He had a way of drawing forth feelings of agonizing warmth that left Luan reeling with the shameful heat that felt almost too taboo to dwell in. He hadn’t decided how to deal with those feelings yet, other than his untimely demise at his own hands. And that required at least thirty percent effort, a good location, some pen and paper. Plus, there goes his plans to make his family suffer while he sat, languid, watching with eyes of mirth and laughing maniacally the entire time. Really, he just couldn’t make the commitment to dying at this juncture. Maybe later. 

For now, the best course of action would be to avoid Dante like the plague, make a few timely investments, build wealth for his revenge plan, and get a grip over his traitorous body. 

Simple. 

And far less costly in terms of pain, money, effort, etc. 

Planning peoples delve into madness really was better than dwelling on confusing nonsense that couldn’t be unconfounded without letting himself taste madness first. He was already a little unhinged, what with his first course of action always seeming to revolve around kidnapping or unmanning alphas. Though, if they learned to just keep their distasteful advances to themselves, they might get through interacting with him with their future children intact.