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34 ~ Love Destroys, Not Strengthens

Author: Baby~Precious
last update Last Updated: 2025-02-25 04:14:55

“There is no better time to enjoy the death of an enemy's ally than in the early hours of the morning. Do you agree, Marshall?” Alessia’s voice rented the air which after she and Marshall laughed wholeheartedly. 

The whole room was filled with laughter as they had just achieved their goal. Marshall danced around for a while still using his stick. Obviously, a trick he has under his sleeves to make Alessia work with him which she had fallen for. 

“I always knew you were the perfect woman for the job.” Marshall dropped a positive comment. Alessia raised an eyebrow though with a smile on her face. “Really! I mean it. The Santini’s never miss their target.” 

“Celebrate less. One target down. One more to go.” Alessia smirked. “Until I don't kill Francesco myself, I won't stop this mission.” 

“Wow! I love your spirit. And I would like to be there at that moment. I would love to see you dive a knife into his chest. Also, I might also taste his blood.” Marshall's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. 

“Of course you will but only after I taste it first.” Alessia examined her pink nails, her expression bold. “I just want him dead quickly. He deserves nothing more than that.” 

“How should we celebrate… this first round victory of a thing?” Marshall asked. 

Alessia licked the bottom of her lip. She leaned forward then she gulped down some wine. She stood from the opposite chair she sat on and moved to where Marshall was. She locked her hand on his and pulled the glass cup from his hold gently. 

She dropped it on the table and smiled a bit then she sat on his lap. “Why don't we do what we have done in the past?” 

“In our world, trust is a luxury that we can't afford and the Dante family has broken that trust.” Marshall said off-point and lowered his gaze. 

Alessia rolled her eyes at his attitude. “Come on. Let's be serious here,” her voice was laced with venom. 

“You are playing with fire and you are going to get burned,” he warned. 

“Then let me,” Alessia whispered as she slowly moved her left hand to his manhood region. An evil smile played on his lips before he pulled her tightly to his chest. 

He yanked her head down a little before he took in her lips. A few minutes later, moans filled the room as they delved into their sexual fantasies. 

Back at the Dante mansion, doctors and nurses kept running in and out of the guest's room. Sweat was glistening on their faces and necks as they resorted to their best to revive Brinda.

With a bandaged arm, Bullet sat on the floor in the passageway, her mind filled with endless possibilities of the aftermath of the event. Seven of them had gone on the mission yet only three survived and the last one — Brinda — is battling between life and death.

Which will she go with? Death. Or. Live?

On the other hand was Francesco who paced up and down, he held his head and brought his hands back to his trousers. He blinked his eyes severally before he lowered his head and rested his back on the wall. 

Suddenly, he pushed off from the wall and began pacing again, his movements frantic and erratic. His hands clenched into fists, and his jaw set in a rigid line.

He felt like he was drowning, suffocating under the weight of his own anxiety. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't escape the crushing sense of panic that threatened to consume him whole.

Their whole morning had just been shattered. And that was by who? Their number one enemy, Marshall. No one else might have thought of that but Francesco thought of it. 

Francesco couldn't hold it longer. He glided his way up the stairs and closed his room's door as soon as he went in. He rested his back on the door and slowly went down on his butt. 

He lowered his head before he took his left hand to his mouth and bit it. He was hurt. Hurt badly but he wouldn't show it or let anyone know. That was exactly why he ran to his room and let off his guard. 

“Brinda. Why? Why, Brinda?” He cried. He clenched his fist and banged his hand on the marbled floor severally. 

Tears flew out of his eyes all the way down to the cheeks then to his clothes. He thought he would be fine on his own. He thought he could change and be someone without a heart but it was all a lie. 

At this time, he thought he would just give up and say goodbye to Brinda, his lost love. The tears didn't stop while he kept on banging his hand on the floor. 

This is the first time in five years since he last cried or had tears stream down his cheeks. 

“Don… Don…” A voice from the outside yelled. Francesco refused to answer as he couldn't bring himself to stop his actions. “Don… She has been revived.” 

Francesco's senses heightened and he rushed to open the door but not after he had erased all the traces of tears that came out of his eyes all because of Brinda’s condition. 

“Are you sure she's awake?” He asked calmly, putting on a straight face. The man nodded and Francesco scurried down the stairs, his legs willing him faster than he had expected. 

Upon entering the room, he met the doctors and nurses running helter skelter while Bullet was in another section of tears. 

“What's going on? I thought you told me she was awake?” He yelled at the man that came to call him. 

“Y… Yes… Yes sir. She was…” The man had hardly finished his words when Francesco stretched his arms and slapped him tight on his face. 

“Idiot! Get out of here! Now!” He ordered then the man left the room as if he was chased by a Lion. 

“We have tried our best and all we could, Mr. Dante. Unfortunately, the patient has slipped into a coma and chances of survival are slim. She has a strong will to have made it to this stage. Prepare for the worst.” The doctor announced. 

He left the room with his nurses except one of them who would be the personal nurse for Brinda's treatment. 

Francesco fell on his knees and brought his hands to his face. “Why? Why is this happening?” He turned to Bullet and touched her shoulder slightly, “Why am I crying for her? Tell me.” 

“Maybe you still love her,” Bullet poured out her mind. 

“Love? It destroys, it doesn't strengthen.” Francesco replied, his voice, as calm as a still water. 

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