There it was. That look again. The shadows in Dante’s eyes disappeared as quickly as they’d surfaced.
We exited the castello. “By the way, where’s Mother?” he asked.
“With Hiroshi.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are those two going to get married?” I shrugged. “Good, maybe we’ll have a double-wedding thing going on.”
God help me with Dante and his cryptic fucking messages.
21
REINA
My chest feels tight.
My heart is heavy.
My pieces keep moving as a new person is made.
But even the new meinsists on loving you,
While convincing myself that I hate you.
I read through my journal for what felt like the millionth time. For comfort. To remind myself why I needed to hate him. To remember how much I loved him.
My eyes lingered on the bracelet I hadn’t worn in such a long time. It sat safely tucked within pages colored with pain. Out of sight; out of mind. Except, it didn’t exactly work out that way. Yin and yang. Him and me. It started like a perfect love story; it ended like an imperfect tragedy.
I regretted giving him my heart forever. It could have been a love story made for the movie screens, but then so was our tragedy. Grandma always said it was the tragic endings that left a mark.
I’d kept my promise and hadn’t cut myself since I killed Leone.
A tremor started in my hands each time I thought about that day, worried it would catch up with me. Black spots swam in my vision as I closed my tattered journal and sat by the window of our little apartment.
The girls claimed I was a fighter, but I wasn’t. Not even close.
Clear blue skies stretched over the city of love, but all I saw was my faded reflection in the glass. It stared back, mocking my fake smile. My stupid heart still cried a river of tears, refusing to forget the boy I fell in love with.
Three years had gone by and I still dreamt of him. I still heard him in my sleep, whispering words of affection, tender musings I couldn’t make myself forget no matter how hard I tried.
Tears blurred my vision, sending the lights dancing across the city sky, sparkling like diamonds.
The knot in my chest tightened, and I feared there’d be no untying it, that I’d be left to die with it. Never to feel free and light again.
I let my favorite memory rush in—a guilty pleasure, no matter how painful—as it tended to do when I was feeling particularly sorrowful.
Soft tunes played over the speakers. Amon Leone didn’t dance, but he danced with me. Not once but three times now. Under the floating lanterns, on his yacht, and now in his apartment. I loved swaying to the music with his arms around me.
The fact he only danced with me made me feel cherished.
“I like being with you,” I whispered, drowning in his dark eyes.
The corner of his lips curved up. “I love being with you.” I grinned, feeling like I was floating on the soft cloud. “You and me against the world,” he whispered softly.
None of the lights were on in his penthouse, the glow of the moon alone throwing shadows across his handsome face. Despite our disparity in size, we fit perfectly together. At least I thought so. He towered over me, but our bodies molded together like we’d spent our entire lives dancing.
“I have something new for my bucket list,” I murmured, watching him.
“Let’s hear it.” I could hear the smile in his voice and it made my heart do funny things.