Danna/Xinyi:
He agreed to take me in, and I agreed to marry him. I knew he wasn't a good man — not now, maybe not ever — but I had to give it a chance.
When I walked up to his room, Jake and Dante had gone out for God knows where. I opened the door and was immediately hit by the mess. Not just his room — the entire penthouse was chaos.
I sighed, pulling my sleeves up. If I was going to live here, I might as well start somewhere.
First, his laundry. Then the kitchen. Then the living room. By the time I was on my knees pulling out what looked like half the 1900's in whiskey bottles from under the couch, I found something else — a small pink clip, wedged in the corner.
Jake wouldn't wear that. Dante definitely wouldn't.So… who would?
My stomach tightened. A girl. There must have been some girl here before…
The door swung open. Jake and Dante stepped in, their eyes widening at the sight of the spotless penthouse.
Jake let out a low whistle. I quickly shoved the clip back under the couch and stood up."You're back?" I said softly, keeping my gaze low.
Dante strode toward me, closing the distance in seconds. His fingers gripped my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his."Acting up like a good wifey, huh?" His smirk was pure mockery.
"I—"
"Stop scaring her, man," Jake cut in with a laugh, clapping a hand on Dante's shoulder.
Dante let go of my chin. "Did you eat?" he asked suddenly.
I shook my head.
He sat down on the couch. "Bring some food."
Jake shook his head, grinning. "Well, look who has someone to work for him."
"I'm not hungry," I murmured.
"Chill, sister-in-law," Jake winked. "I won't let him eat you." He strolled into the kitchen, leaving the air heavier than before.
"At least you kept one promise," Dante said, his gaze burning into my side.
I turned slightly toward him. "What promise?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
"I brought the ring. I made the arrangements," he said, standing. "Last chance before we make this official."
"For what?"
His hand shot out, gripping my wrist and pulling me down onto his lap. I gasped, my heart racing as his face hovered inches from mine.
"For you to run… and go back to your perfect princess life," he murmured, nuzzling into the crook of my neck.
My breath caught. "Dante…"
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. "Hmm?"
"I—"
A sudden clearing of a throat interrupted me. I tried to get up, but Dante's arm locked around my waist.
"It's just Jake," he whispered against my ear.
Jake set a plate of food on the table, his smirk practically audible. "Alright, I'll leave you two alone, shall I?"
Dante grabbed the plate — and to my shock, began feeding me like I was a child.
"I can do it myself," I protested.
He shook his head and held the fork up again. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth, heat creeping up my neck.
"Tomorrow," Dante said between bites, "we'll buy your wedding dress."
It was just the two of us in the dimly lit living room, the glow from the city outside flickering faintly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the air heavy with something I couldn't name, and me — sitting on his lap as though I were some fragile doll he could position however he pleased, except that I wasn't a doll, I was his soon-to-be wife, though the thought still felt foreign and overwhelming in my mind. His voice broke the silence, low and steady, curling around me like smoke. "Tell me, Danna… do you hate me already?" For a heartbeat, I froze, my chest tightening, because I could never hate him, not truly, not even with all the chaos that surrounded us. Slowly, I shook my head, my voice a whisper barely louder than the hum of the city. "I don't."
His hand came up, fingers curling around my chin, tilting my face toward him until I was caught in the molten weight of his gaze. "Why are you so nervous?" he asked, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his mouth, and I swallowed hard before answering, "Because we're… too close."
A dry, humorless laugh left him, the sound scraping along my skin. "Closeness makes you nervous?" His eyebrow arched, and before I could answer, he set me off his lap with a suddenness that made the air shift, gesturing for me to sit beside him instead. The space between us felt like a wall, yet the silence stretched unbearably until the question I'd been holding in ached to escape.
"Do you… love…" I trailed off, unable to finish. His eyes flickered toward me, and he leaned back slightly, studying me like he could already read the question on my lips. "Do I have a girlfriend?" he finished for me, and my gaze dropped instantly to the floor.
Then he turned fully toward me, his body shifting so his presence filled the space I had been clinging to for safety. "What if I do?" he asked, and the words landed like a stone in my chest, the sharp twist of jealousy cutting before I could stop it. "I wouldn't mind," I said, but even I could hear how unconvincing it sounded. His lips curved, not kindly. "Really?"
In the next breath, he had me pinned against the couch, the heat of his body closing in. "From where I'm standing, you look… jealous." My eyes darted away, and I pushed weakly at his chest, but he was immovable. "I'm not," I lied, my voice unsteady. His hand caught my wrist, firm and unyielding.
"Look at me."
I did, slowly, my heart thudding in my ears.
"You think I moved on? You think I'm you — someone who would marry someone else?" His voice dripped with disdain, and my breath caught. "I didn't mean—" But he was already scoffing, his grip tightening. "I'm me, mia cara. I'm Dante."
Confusion tangled with hurt in my chest. "Dante, I didn't mean—"
He released me abruptly, standing. "Go sleep. I'm tired." He turned, but before he could walk away, I reached for his wrist, desperation spilling from my fingers. "Dante, that marriage… it wasn't my will."
He froze for only a second before a bitter, humorless laugh escaped him. "Then why didn't you disagree? Don't tell me you couldn't say no because that man was kind and your type — everything but me!" His voice rose, sharp and accusing.
"No, my dad—"
"Because your dad told you, and you agreed? Huh?" he cut me off, his voice like a blade. "Let me tell you something — my dad forced me into things too, but did I agree? He told me not to go find you, but I still did! I did everything… and when I was gone, you got with another guy — f**ing good!"*
The sting in my chest erupted into something uncontrollable, and before I even realized what I'd done, my palm cracked hard against his cheek. His head snapped to the side, and for a moment there was only the echo of the sound between us.
He laughed then, low and bitter, shaking his head like he had expected nothing else. "That's how you repay me?" His voice was broken glass, cutting each word. "Fine."
And then he was gone, leaving nothing but the echo of his footsteps and the shattering in my chest. My knees buckled under the weight of everything I hadn't said, and I sank to the floor, the sob tearing free before I could stop it, hot tears blurring the glittering skyline outside.