Dante Holy shit. Jean had just dropped the bomb on me. Children? I haven’t even thought about that. My breath hitches at the mere thought of a little version of Jean or me running around. A family. Family. A family. Not one built on loyalty, but my own flesh and blood. My family. I shake my head violently to rid myself of the thought. This is the first time Jean had mentioned kids, and I never even let myself dream about it if not for Jean. Wait, Jean didn’t mention if she wanted children with me. What if she wants to leave and start a family with someone else? Someone worthy of her. Someone who could provide safety for her and their family. But a man can dream. ~~~ It’s near midnight when I finally allow myself to climb up the stairs to check up on Jean. She had deliberately asked me for space to process her thoughts and I didn’t want to intrude on that before she was ready. But I was also starting to get worried. She skipped dinner after all. “Jean?” I call out softly afte
DanteHearing those words from Jean lights a fire in me, burning so hot that I have to grab the sheets beneath me to stop myself from fucking into her. I want to leave the task up to her, allowing her to take full control.Jean raises her thighs and drops down in one swift motion eliciting groans from both of us. Without warning, Jean leans back far enough to rest her hands on the tops of my thighs. She lets out a loud gasp and I just know this position slotted me deeper inside her, I could feel her clamping down on me like crazy.“S-so deep! You feel so d-deep like this,” Jean says as she rolls her hips. My hands fly to grab her thighs, gripping the porcelain skin tightly, wanting to leave marks all over them.“You look beautiful, love. You take my cock so well.” I murmur in encouragement. Moving my hand up from Jean’s thigh, I graze her skin, just a hair away from her soaked pussy. The wet sounds coming from it are music to my ears, her juices splattering across my abdomen. “Keep go
Jean“You promised,” I whine over breakfast, as I stuff my mouth with a spoonful of cereal.With a sigh, Dante finally looks up from his phone. He’s been on that thing since we woke up this morning, and no matter how bad I nagged him to tell me what was up, he wouldn’t budge.“I did promise that we’d talk,” he says tiredly, and it’s only seven in the morning. “But I also said to finish your breakfast first, if that could even be called breakfast.”I glare at him; how dare he insult cereal? But I don’t say anything for fear that he’d take back his decision to talk.“Okay, done,” I tell him, before getting up to take my used bowl to the sink. “Will you please tell me now why you’re being so secretive?”Dante huff out a short laugh, “I’m not being secretive, Jean. I just want you to eat,” he insists. “Come here.”I walk over to where Dante’s sitting on one of the kitchen counter stools. It could be my touch-hungry brain functioning because I instinctively place myself between Dante’s pa
JeanThe soft pelts of raindrops against our umbrellas drown the pastor’s soft words. The sudden presence of rain makes me believe that the universe mourns with our family.Twelve people. Today, we bury twelve people who sacrificed their lives for the sake of many. Today, we honor them.“Thank you for this,” I whisper, looping my arm with Dante’s resting my head on his arm. The closeness provides me comfort. Dante hums in response, but I know he too is emotional about this service.The service is beautiful. Despite the sudden rain, the fresh scent of flowers didn’t get washed away. Elegant arrangements of lilies and white daisies adorn the burial ground. Even with less than a dozen of us present, each family member’s eulogies were beautifully written.I admit I had something more barbaric in mind when I first thought of mafia family funerals, but I was pleasantly surprised to know that this is their norm. It’s not uncommon to lose members with such a dangerous job. As Daveed once told
JeanJust as I thought, Serafino Regis makes his entrance not long after I came to. The sight of him halts my struggles against the red ropes, as I’m overcome with fear of what he’s planning to do with me.“Well don’t you just look lovely like this, little Jean?” Even his voice makes me shiver. He looks nothing like what a man in his mid-fifties usually looks like. He appears much younger, and very fit too. He wears a dark red robe, loosely tied around his waist, his toned chest exposed just a little. In his hand, he cradles a wine glass half-filled with the same dark red of his robe.“You,” I say with all the hate I could muster from my body. There’s no denying how much this person had made me suffer. He killed my parents, took my sister away from me, and terrorized countless others.“Yes, it’s me,” Serafino says, a smile playing on his lips as if this amuses him. Licking his lips, he crosses the room to sit on what looks like an antique fauteuil.As if my position isn’t embarrassing
Jean“Oh, if you could see yourself now, little Jean. You look delicious.”Serafino’s voice plays in the back of my mind like white noise being filtered. How long has it been? A few hours? Minutes? Maybe it has been days. I have no idea, having completely lost track of time.What I remember is Serafino returning after our first encounter with a bandaged nose. It made me snort. . But then, he was inserting a needle into my arm and suddenly nothing was funny anymore. It had been like that for quite a while. Serafino had been continuously pumping me full of whatever drugs to keep me sedated.Manageable.Susceptible.“Take it like a big girl, Jean,” he had said as he injected me with the drugs. I remember screaming and struggling against the ropes at the beginning. But he had done it over and over until I stopped struggling as he pushes the needle into my arm.I remember that it hurt for a while then there was just the dull throb in my arm, swollen from the consistent abuse of the needle.
DanteAntsy doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel at the moment. I’ve been pacing the office back and forth since the beginning of the raid.People say I’m a monster. Daring and unafraid, there’s nothing in the world that could truly terrify me. I thought so too. But all of those assumptions were proven wrong the day Jean was taken right from under my nose.“Remind me again why I’m not there, Luca? I should be the one who takes her back.”Luca looks at me tiresomely, “Dante, we both know the reason,” he says, his voice laced with frustration. “Serafino sent the new guy on your tail. Make a move now and Tsukishima Yū will have our asses handed to the FBI, then Interpol will be chasing us halfway across the globe. Never mind our deal with the police commissioner, he may follow the money, but if we get caught, he won’t be able to do anything with your assets frozen.”“You know for someone who speaks reason, your actions certainly do not match your words,” I remark, noting how Luca has h
DanteI’ve tortured many a person in all my years. Peeled off fingernails, sliced through the skin, pulled out teeth, and many more horrors fill my nightmares. But none of those feel nearly as satisfying as seeing the bane of my wife’s existence tied up and gagged; blindfolded and scared, and at my mercy.Without a sound and without another thought I charge for Serafino plunging the knife in my hand deep into his side.I revel in his muted screams against the cloth that gags him. Then, leaning closer I whisper. “That’s for when you stabbed Jean.”Stepping away, I leave the knife planted in his gut. There’s no reason for him to lose too much blood. At least not right away. So, for now, it stays there, as a reminder that everything else that’s about to happen to him is because he hurt my angel.I rip the gag off Serafino’s mouth leaving him sputtering in pain. “Is this what this is?” he scoffs, chuckling as saliva smears down his chin from having his tongue gagged for so long. “An eye f
12 YEARS LATER. “Come on! We’re going to miss it! Hurry, Papa!” “Okay, okay. Slow down, sweetheart.” The man hastens after his daughter, weaving through a small crowd of people that had just arrived, same as them. The young girl complains, “We promised Lily we’d be on time—there!” she points to the entrance of the auditorium. “Lily!” Lily waves back frantically at her sister. “You made it, Rose!” Lily replies running up the remainder of the distance between them. “You missed the opening ceremony but the displays are out. Come on!” The twins leave their father behind, opting to rush inside the auditorium that was converted into a small gallery to display the artworks created by the students of the summer art program. The auditorium is large for a school with a population of only a few hundred, but the family decided that a private school was best for their kids. “Ah, you’ve finally arrived,” Jean greets her husband as he strides toward her. She looks as beautiful as ever with her
Jean“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?” he asks when he notices the tear that escapes my eye. “I won’t have tears for our reunion, love.”I quickly wipe away the tears that managed to stain my cheeks and pull away from the man I used to call my husband.With my head still spinning, I manage to get out of work immediately with the promise that I would close the deal with the mysterious art donor.Dante—or rather, Gavin and I find ourselves behind the safety of my apartment doors soon enough.“Now,” I order just as the doors close behind us. “Explain yourself.”Gavin quirks an eyebrow at me, “Quite a warm welcome, love.” I sense the sarcasm in his voice which makes me roll my eyes at him.“When you explain yourself, I might reconsider.”“Why are you mad at me?” he asks almost in disbelief. “When everything I did, I did for you.”“For me?” I scoff loudly, returning the same energy and disbelief. “You left me alone for two years! Even when I asked you to come—” then shaking my he
JeanI think it’s been three days since I learned about Dante’s death. Three days that I’ve stayed home, calling in sick for work because there’s no way I can hold myself together in public when I burst into tears every hour or so.It’s been three days since my world shattered.The television has been playing on the same news channel the whole time with me waiting for any developments. I dove into the deeper parts of the internet, looking for any information but there is none to be found.“This is it, huh?” I whisper to myself, clinging onto the fleece blanket wrapped around me as I stare out the window. The heavy rain doesn’t help my mood at all, but it gives me comfort that the sky weeps for my loss too.I go to sleep that night feeling a blackhole-sized void in my heart.~~~The next morning, I woke up with several texts from the gallery asking me to come back to work. I’ve informed them that I couldn’t come but it must be an emergency if even my head supervisor is leaving me voic
JeanI don’t remember the bar being this stuffy, but I somehow find myself suffocating in the middle of a conversation with my colleagues. And suddenly the black dress I’m wearing is too short and too tight on my body.I shouldn’t have come tonight. It’s a full night at the club, and it doesn’t take long before I request to move to a private room. I’m met with various curious and lust-filled looks but I ignore them. Parisians know how to party, and oftentimes those parties involve more than just drinking and dancing, there’s always something more.I’m sure my colleagues assumed I was asking for more, but I simply needed to get away from the crowd.Lara invited way too many strangers, but I figured this party was more for them than it was for my work anniversary. But I go along with it. I’ll just have to find an excuse to leave a bit earlier than the rest of them.“Jean, why aren’t you dancing?” Lara pipes up hugging me from behind. I chuckle softly, she’s already buzzed. “Ditch these
Jean I fumble with my coat as I reach for my phone in my purse. The rain hasn’t let up once since December rolled in. I would have preferred to stay in the office today, but the statement for Bianca’s tuition came in my email last night.I tried to call her, but Bianca’s phone seems to be turned off and I went straight to voice mail.“Hey, Bub. I’m on my way to the bank now to pay for your tuition and other fees. Let me know if you need anything else— Oh! And as usual, do you want me to release your trust yet or not? That’s all bye! Call me back!”The answer has always been the same. Bianca doesn’t want to touch the money our parents left us until she was making her own. And I took it upon myself to pay for her education despite her protests.But I still figured I’d ask her every four months or so. Bianca was sustaining herself by working part-time and getting free lessons by volunteering for every camp and workshop. But she grew up sheltered and pampered. As her big sister, I still
DanteIn the end, Jean leaves like a thief in the night. She left no note except for the signed divorce papers on top of the living room center table. I watch from the balcony as Jean shoulders a small carry-on bag with only her essentials. Despite the thundering protests I feel stirring in my chest, I know that tonight is the night I lose her. From the corner of my eye, I spot a few men with guns trained at her, ready to fire at my command. Their previous orders were to not allow Jean out of their sight, which includes having to injure her if she gets taken away by enemies again. But this time is different.Luca stands beside me, watching the same scene unfold. “Dante, are you sure about letting her get away?”I understand his sentiments. The amount of time, money, and effort I’d put into making her mine, only to watch her walk away in the end.And I was sure. But as I watch her walk away, I find out that letting her go is the single hardest thing I’ve done in my life.“Yes, tell m
DanteI let Jean cry in my arms. The contract was a way to keep us both tethered to each other, and now that it’s gone, there’s nothing officially tying us together. In a way, we both lost someone tonight.“What happens now?” Jean asks with the softest voice. She sniffles a bit before sitting up, but she doesn’t leave my lap.With us finally being at eye level, I can see how red Jean’s nose is, her cheeks are tinted pink as well. She’s beautiful, and I make sure to tell her just that.“Will you stay?” I ask instead, even though I know full well that Jean’s already made up her mind about this long ago.Her eyes soften as she takes me in fully. One of Jean’s hands comes up to cup my cheek, and she smiles ever so softly as she whispers my name.“Dante… I love you,” Jean starts and it’s the saddest I’ve ever heard her utter those words. I know there’s a but coming up. “I never asked for this life, and I—I don’t want any part of it.”Jean finishes talking, shaking her head from side to sid
DanteThe day I’ve been dreading has finally come. The day that I let her go.I watch Jean silently as she stares out of the wall windows. With the rain softly pattering outside, it reflects my mood perfectly. Jean looks stunning even in sleep shorts and a pullover she stole from my closet. She looks so perfect in my clothes, in my penthouse… and in my life.Suddenly the folder in my hand feels heavier than it should be.I ground myself before approaching Jean, needing to be a hundred percent sure I can handle this conversation. Because once I start, there’s no going back.“Hey,” I whisper in her ear as I wrap my arms around her from behind. Jean leans into my touch, resting her head against my shoulder.“What is it?” she asks, a frown on her face as she turns in my arms to face me. She must have noticed my agitation. “Is everything okay?” Jean reaches forward and cups my cheek.“Yeah,” I reply simply, offering her a reassuring smile—at least I tried to. “Come here for a sec.”“Dante,
JeanUpon hearing those words, I notice that Dante had made himself scarce. Now that I think about it, he didn’t enter the living room with me and Bianca. He most likely left the penthouse to talk to Noah. How do I know that? Because there is no way in hell that Dante would have allowed Bianca to travel alone right when the investigation for the Regis family is about to start.But there’s something in the air that doesn’t quite feel like home.The woman in front of me may look like my little sister, Bianca, but she’s different. The last time I saw her she still had her baby cheeks and that wanderlust look in her eyes, but now that’s all gone.Her eyes no longer hold wonder in them but wisdom that only hardship and experience can mold. Her features look more angled, more mature.It makes me wonder if I somehow look the same to her or if I’ve changed in her eyes as she has changed in mine.I smile at my sister, albeit a little sad that I missed out on an entire year of her life. My baby