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
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
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
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
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
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
“No,” I watch helplessly as my parents’ bodies lay on the ground, blood pooling around their bodies from their wounds. “Mom? Dad?” I call out but there’s no answer. I crawl toward them, uncaring of the danger still looming. I hear gunshots being exchanged in the background. Screams fill my ears as I reach my parents both shot dead. It’s not until I feel my throat dry out and my vision blurry with tears that I realize the screams are mine, drowning the war raging outside this room. How did it come to this? Cradling my mother’s head against my chest, I wrack my brain to figure out what’s going on. “They’re dead, little Jean.” I know that voice. Shive
That one word gives me the last straw of hope and I hold onto it like a lifeline. My legs throb and my lungs burn from exhaustion but his outstretched hand keeps me going, running toward it like a beacon of hope. With every step I take closer to him, I feel safer, but at the same time, I can sense his aura. His intensity and his displayed strength just by standing there. Against the barrage of gunfire from Serafino and his men, this man stands proud, completely unarmed, and that says a lot about him. Without slowing down, I sprint straight into this stranger, colliding with his hard chest. With my mind hazy with adrenaline, I hide behind his broad back, hands gripped tightly around the material of his shirt. “Thank you,” I gasp out, unsure if he heard me. I’m not safe yet, the danger is still very real and very close, but the moment I made it behind this man I felt protected. “The invitation doesn’t extend to you too, Mr. Regis. Leave, now.” His voice is delicious like a deep velve
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