Page 105 of Merciless Billionaire's Savage Desire

Her voice cracked, just a little, but she didn’t let it show.

“Why is it always me who has to bleed first? Why do I have to fall apart before you realize you can’t live without me? Ineverleft you, Dante. Not once. But you... you crushed me—over and over—and now you want me totalkto you because you want tofix us?”

Dante took several deep breaths, his hands shaking. He reached up to her and stepped closer.

“Anya...” he whispered, voice barely holding together. He reached for her face again, slower this time, as if afraid she might disappear if he touched her too hard.

“It’s my fault. Alright, Anya?” he whispered, cupping her face gently. His voice was desperate, rough. “All my fault. I wasn’t good. I walked away when I should’ve stayed.”

He drew in a breath, steadying the crack in his voice, eyes locked on hers.

“From now on, I’ll never walk out on you, no matter what happens. We’ll talk. We’ll fix things. I’ll never shut you out again. It was my fault. I got so jealous, and lost my mind.”

His hands held her a little tighter, as if afraid she’d slip away.

“You love me too, right? You still feel it? Then let’s try again. Just once more. Let me in, Anya.” He leaned in. “I swear I’ll never walk away again. I’ll marry you—tonight, now, whatever it takes. Just… give me that one last chance. Please. Accept me one last time.”

She pushed him away, crying out coldly, “I don’t want to marry you. Not anymore. I won’t repeat the same mistake.”

His body went rigid.

He immediately reached out, desperate to hold her again, but she pulled away from his grasp without a second thought. His fingers lingered in the air where she’d been, trembling with frustration and longing.

His voice thundered, rough and urgent, as he tried to make her understand.

“I’m not the same. Our marriage wasn’t a mistake.” He swallowed hard, fighting the knot in his throat. “I was jealous because I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else. But I’ll fix it. I swear I will.”

His voice dropped lower, searching her eyes like looking for a flicker of hope. His voice softened, filled with raw vulnerability.

“I promise I’ll fix myself. I’ll make it up to you for all the pain I caused. I won’t do this again.”

Her chest heaved, breath ragged and uneven. She stepped back, voice sharp and fierce.

“You’ve done this twice already, Dante. I’m done giving chances.” Her hands trembled as she shoved him hard in the chest, the force carrying all her anger and exhaustion.

“I won’t trust you again. Do you hear me?” Her voice cracked. “I will not marry you!”

His shoulders slumped, the fight draining from him as his face fell. The light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a hollow ache.

“Is that really how you feel?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, fragile and broken. “Is this our end?”

She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. Her voice was a soft, painful whisper. “Yes.”

A searing pain like fire tore through Dante’s veins. The regret crashed down on him at once in that moment.

Finally, he gave in—dejected and crushed—and without another word, he turned and walked out of her apartment.

***

The next morning, the city was waking slowly beneath a pale, grey sky. Dante stood again at the entrance of the same house. The bouquet in his hands was fresh, the lilies blooming. His body was stiff, tense.

His gaze drifted to the door, and after a moment, his fingers pressed the doorbell. The chime rang out, hollow and sharp in the stillness of the morning.

Since last night, her words had replayed endlessly in his mind. He hadn’t even gone home—instead, he drove through empty streets, sleepless and haunted, his head pounding with every thought.

It wasn’t until the first light of dawn began to wash over the city that he finally returned home to shower, collect himself, and then stop at a flower shop on the way to her home again.

The apartment door opened. Dante lifted the flowers to greet Anya, but to his shock, a middle-aged couple stood before him, calm but wary, eyes flickering with surprise.

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