CHAPTER 6
979 Words
The silence stretched between them like a loaded gun.
Alina stood frozen near the doorway, her body locked between instinct and memory, fear and yearning. Dante was just steps away, every inch of him wrapped in danger and desire, as if he hadn’t changed, but everything around him had.
His presence was a storm in her bones. She hated him. Missed him. Wanted to scream at him, wanted to melt into him.
Her voice was barely a breath.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Dante’s eyes didn’t flinch, deep, dark, and hungry.
He stepped closer, voice low. “I told you. I’ve waited long enough.”
“And I told you I’m not yours.”
He didn’t blink.
Then, soft. Barely a whisper.
“Liar.”
Alina’s chest tightened.
He moved slowly, deliberately, like a lion cornering his prey, or maybe like a man who still remembered the shape of her heartbeat under his palm.
“I know why you left, Alina,” he said, his voice rough like gravel, “but don’t pretend I stopped living in your head.”
She tried to look away. He caught her chin between two fingers, tilting it up.
“You still dream of me.”
His thumb brushed her cheekbone, slow, possessive.
“You still wake up searching for me.”
“Don’t,” she whispered, eyes wet but cold.
He leaned in, mouth close to hers. “I never stopped looking for you.”
Her knees weakened, from his closeness, from his voice, from the thousand unspoken memories between them. She stepped back, needing air.
“You destroyed everything,” she said, bitterly. “My peace. My name. My life.”
His jaw tensed. “I never touched your peace. I was your peace.”
She laughed bitterly. “You were my poison.”
“And you drank it willingly.”
...
The memories came rushing in, faster than she could breathe.
Flashback | Two years ago
The night she first told him she loved him. He hadn’t said it back.
Not with words.
But with the way he had pulled her into his chest and whispered, “If you ever leave me, I’ll tear this world apart.”
She had thought it was a joke.
She knew better now.
...
Back in the present
Dante dropped something on the table. It echoed.
A velvet box.
Alina looked at it like it might explode.
“I told them to prepare this the day you left,” he murmured. “Never opened it. Never gave it to anyone else.”
She stared at it, heart pounding.
“You think a ring will fix what you broke?”
“No.” His voice was heavy. “But it was never meant to fix anything. It was a promise. One I still intend to keep.”
She wanted to throw it. Scream. But her hands betrayed her.
She opened the box.
Inside was a thin band of black gold, no diamonds, no stones. Just a single engraving inside.
“My war. My woman.”
Tears stung her eyes, uninvited.
“You still think you own me.”
“I don’t think,” Dante said, stepping closer. “I know.”
She stared at him, every nerve on fire. “And what if I run again?”
He didn’t even hesitate.
“Then I’ll burn every street between us until you come back.”
...
She didn’t realize it until it was too late.
How close he was again.
How his hands had found her waist, firm, steady, reverent.
How her fingers had curled into his shirt like muscle memory.
“I hate you,” she breathed, but her mouth was too close to his, her resolve already cracking.
“I know,” he whispered.
“Don’t kiss me.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
Silence.
Then...
He kissed her anyway.
But this time, it was slow. Torturously slow. Like he was savoring a flavor he hadn’t tasted in years. A taste he never forgot. It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t violent.
It was devotional.
Like a man kissing something holy.
...
The kiss broke. Barely. Their foreheads touched. Her breath hitched.
And then...
Bang.
A sharp crack echoed outside the apartment.
Gunshot.
Dante shoved her behind him in a single swift motion. “Stay down.”
He pulled out his gun like it had always been there, tucked at the back of his waistband.
Another shot. Closer this time.
Alina’s blood ran cold.
“They followed me,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “I thought I lost them”
“Who?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned to her, fast, voice sharp. “Do you have a basement? Somewhere hidden?”
Alina, still stunned, nodded toward the storage room under the kitchen.
He opened the false wall in seconds. Of course he knew where it was. He had built it.
“Get in.”
“I’m not hiding”
He growled. “Now’s not the time to prove you’re brave. Get in, Alina.”
She got in.
He shut the panel behind her just as the door blasted open in the main room.
She couldn’t see. But she could hear.
Gunfire. Two shots. A scuffle. A grunt. A body hitting the ground.
And then… silence.
She covered her mouth, heart hammering.
Minutes passed.
Then, the door creaked open again.
And his voice, dark and calm, came through the secret panel.
“It’s over.”
She stepped out slowly.
Two men in black were on the ground, unconscious. One bleeding. Dante stood over them like death himself.
His hand was grazed. Bleeding.
“Dante,” she whispered, rushing forward. “Your hand..”
He took her wrist, ignoring his wound. “They weren’t here for me.”
Alina blinked. “What?”
His eyes met hers.
“They were here for you.”
- Writer
