Dante:
We reached home safely—at least that's what it looked like from the outside—but my body told another story entirely, especially the sharp, searing pain shooting through my abdomen like a curse that refused to die down, and worse than that, worse than the blood, the bruises, the phantom ache of the stab wound still leaking through the layers I'd used to hide it, was the unbearable weight in my chest, not from the injury, not from exhaustion, but from her—Danna, in that wedding dress, her smile, her tears, the veil, the f**king altar—all of it burned into my skull like someone had branded my soul with it, because no matter how hard I tried to rationalize it, no matter how much I told myself I'd done what I had to do, I couldn't shake the fact that I ruined it, I barged in like some devil coming for blood when she was standing on the edge of a new life, and maybe—God, maybe—she was happy, maybe she had chosen it, maybe it was right for her, and I destroyed all of it, everything, and I shouldn't have gone, I shouldn't have looked, because if I had just stayed away, I would have never known, and it would have been better—for both of us.
I pulled my shirt off with a grunt, tossing it onto the cold marble counter, and for a second I just stood there in the bathroom, staring at the red mess spreading over my abdomen, where that son of a bitch had stabbed me—right where it hurt the most, and not just physically—and I pressed my palm against it to try to stop the bleeding, but it only made the memory hit harder.
The moment was sharp, loud, like a film reel playing in fast-forward.
"Jake," I whispered while clutching the wheel tighter, the weight of something unnatural gnawing at the base of my neck, "I think someone's tailing us."Jake's eyes narrowed slowly, scanning the rearview mirror, and he gave a short nod without a word.
The call came in, Marco's voice on the other end:"Danna's in some wedding—Suzhou, I think..."
I snatched the phone from Jake's hand like my sanity depended on it."Suzhou Chapel."I raised an eyebrow. "Is it approximate?"
"Yes, Capo."
I didn't hesitate.
We got there fast—too fast for thoughts to catch up—and when I stepped out and saw the crowd, the lights, the goddamn rose petals, I already knew before I saw her that it was her, because my bones felt it, my instincts screamed it, and there she was—Danna—undeniably her, glowing, broken, beautiful, walking down the aisle like something sacred being handed to someone else, and my entire f**king body locked up when I heard the priest's words:
"Now, the groom may kiss the bride."
A muscle twitched in my jaw, my fists clenched, something snapped low in my chest—
"The bride is—" Jake started, but didn't finish.
I couldn't breathe.
My phone buzzed.
"Get out of there before I kill all of you."Alessia.
Then again:"I will end her."
I barely had time to react before chaos erupted—Gunshots.Screams.
A woman crying out, "Attack!"
I looked at Jake."Save Danna."
That was all I could say.All I could feel.
Jake was already pulling his gun, moving fast in her direction, pushing through the crowd. I was right behind him—until something sharp tore through my side and I groaned out loud, stumbling back, clutching my abdomen with a grimace, looking over my shoulder, but no one was there—just smoke, panic, noise—and with shaking hands I pulled the knife from my body, gritting my teeth, thanking every divine force that I had worn that long black coat because it shielded most of the blood, but I was losing time.
I looked up—she was frozen, Danna, eyes wide, a man creeping up behind her through the smoke and madness, and everything inside me screamed no, and without a second thought I lunged forward, grabbed her by the waist, pulled her close to my chest, firing two bullets at the man before he even had time to breathe, and there she was—
So close, so warm, chest rising fast, eyes wide, staring at me like I was something sweet, something unbelievable, like I was a miracle and not a monster dripping blood in her wedding.
I blinked back to the present, back to the cold bathroom, gripping the edge of the sink as my abdomen throbbed like hell, black spots dancing in my vision.
I turned on the tap, water roaring out like a scream, and shoved my hands beneath it, watching blood swirl into the basin—red, endless, unforgiving—just like the mess I had made of everything.
I came out of the washroom shirtless, the fresh gauze barely clinging to the dried blood on my abdomen, ignoring the searing pain that flared with each breath, and more importantly, ignoring the fact that Danna was sitting there in the lounge like a quiet ghost trapped in her own home, her wedding dress still wrapped around her like regret stitched into silk, her back straight, legs together, hands on her lap like a guest who didn't know whether she belonged anymore, and for a split second, I almost turned around and walked back into the dark just to avoid facing her.
She looked up the moment she heard me, but whatever emotion flickered in her amber eyes—shame, uncertainty, heartbreak—it made her drop her gaze again just as fast, like seeing me shirtless was too much, or maybe it wasn't the body, but the truth carved into it, the scarred chest, the bloodstained bandages, the fact that I wasn't the Dante she used to know.
I didn't say anything.I just walked past her, grabbing the first aid kit again to double-check the tightness of the wrap, redoing it quickly with cold precision, rolling my head back until my neck cracked like a whip just to feel something else—anything else—than this suffocating air.
Jake was in the kitchen, shirt stained with some kind of cheap soy sauce and blood, half of it probably his.
It was just me and Danna now, sharing a space that used to mean something, but now felt like a memory we'd both outgrown.
I cleared my throat, not because I had anything to say, but just to break the pressure in the room that was tightening like a noose, and wandered into the kitchen, cracking open the refrigerator and pulling out a beer I wasn't sure my stomach could even handle.
"Man, wear something!" Jake said from behind me, slapping my ass as he walked past with a plate of whatever food he could scavenge, trying to lighten the air like he always did, even if we were seconds from collapsing.
"This damn shit," I muttered, half to myself, the cold beer biting against my palm as I leaned against the counter, unable to find the will to go back out there, because I didn't know how to face her—not when she wasn't the girl I left behind, not when she had grown into someone so composed and graceful and untouchably beautiful, even in her brokenness.
I swigged half the bottle in one go, hoping it would kill something inside me, then finally walked out of the kitchen.
Jake was on the opposite couch now, sitting awkwardly like a brother caught in the wrong room, eyes flicking between the floor and Danna, who still hadn't looked up once, her hands tangled in her dress, her gaze glued to some invisible thread in the carpet like it held the answers to all our sins.
I walked over to the rack, grabbed the hoodie hanging there—black, oversized, creased with old cigarette smoke—and pulled it over my head, only then daring to sit next to her, every step slower than the last.
I could feel both their eyes on me.
And when I sat down, I let myself look at her—not gently, not kindly, but like she was something I was terrified of losing again.
"Jake," I said, my voice cold, sharper than I meant, "Leave us."
Jake sighed, but he didn't argue. He understood. He always did.He got up, taking his plate with him, and disappeared into the hallway like a ghost.
Now it was just her and me.
And I didn't know what the hell to do.
"Look at me," I said, and when she hesitated, I reached out and gently took her chin in my hand, feeling her shoulders slump like I'd just touched the weight she'd been carrying for too long.
Our eyes met.
And my heart…It skipped.
Because she was still Danna.Same long black hair, now tied in a soft bun that framed her face like a porcelain painting, tinted makeup that couldn't hide the swelling in her eyes, amber eyes that reflected every emotion she couldn't say out loud, chest rising and falling like each breath was a battle—either because of my touch… or fear.
"Danna…" I breathed, voice lower than I meant."…did you miss me?"
Her eyes widened slightly, like I'd pulled something raw out of her.
Then—slowly—she nodded.
"Lie," I said bluntly, watching every flicker in her expression like I was dissecting a confession.
"I did…" she whispered, and her voice was barely there, but it cracked something wide open inside me."Every year, every month, every week, every hour, every minute… and every second."
And that—That destroyed me.
A silence fell, thicker than before.
"I ruined your wedding today," I murmured, guilt laced through the words like blood.
She didn't answer.She just paused.
Paused like I had reached into her chest and crushed her ribs with one sentence.
"You did not..." she whispered, her voice so soft it almost didn't reach me, and maybe a part of me wished it hadn't, because I didn't know what to do with that kind of mercy—so I didn't answer, didn't say anything, just let go of her chin and leaned back, sinking into the couch like I was trying to disappear inside it, like if I stopped moving, the guilt would stop burning holes in my ribs.
"I'll send you back in a few days," I said flatly, avoiding her eyes now, keeping my tone cold and rehearsed, trying to bury the storm building inside my chest, "after I get rid of the threat and those shitheads who caused this."
She repeated it—"Back..."
And the way her voice broke around that single word made something flicker, but I crushed it.
I looked at her finally, my face hard and unchanged, even though my heart was screaming that she didn't want to leave, that she wanted to stay right here, broken and close, in the hell I lived in."Yes," I said, voice like a blade, "It was my fault. I came to China in the first place, caused trouble, made it worse... it's better if you go back."
I tilted my head back, looking up at the ceiling like it held the answers I'd never get."Dante," she said, just my name, but it hit like a wound being reopened with bare hands.
"I'm sorry I ruined your wedding day," I said, quieter now, and maybe I meant it more than I wanted her to know.
"Dante... I don't want to go back," she said.
And that—That was it.
What?
My body froze.My head snapped toward her like something wild had just taken over me."You don't want to f**king go back?"
My voice dropped, not in volume but in temperature."Where will you stay then?" I asked, voice low, sharp, biting, "Where?"
She didn't blink."With you..."
That hit harder than the stab wound.
I scoffed, a bitter sound that tore through my throat like gravel."With me? After you saw what I did? What I still do?"I stared at her—hard. Unforgiving.She nodded.
Of course she nodded.
But I didn't believe it.No, I couldn't.
Because this wasn't her wanting me.This was her trying to fix me.To soothe whatever damage she thought she caused.
She didn't want to stay.She just didn't want to carry the guilt of leaving again.If she really loved me—she would've waited, searched, fought.But she married him.
So now she's playing a game.And fine—I'll let her.
But I'll be the one to break it.
"I'm a monster now," I said slowly, voice heavy with venom I couldn't swallow, "and I can destroy you in a second."
"Destroy me then."
She looked at me directly when she said it—no fear, no trembling, just fire behind her tears."Do it."
My jaw locked so tight I thought I'd crack a tooth.My heart? Already cracked.
I nodded sharply."Fine," I said through my teeth, "You've got two options."
I stood up slowly, towering over her, my hands clenched at my sides.
"Either you marry me... or I'll send you back to China, and you can live your usual, happy life."
Her eyes widened slightly, but I didn't let her speak."You've got tonight," I added coldly, the words like steel."Think wisely."
And then I walked away.
Because if I stayed one more second…I would've done something i would have regretted.