Chapter 15: Improv Session

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• Dangerous Melodies   Chapter 6: Echoes of You

  DANTEFelix and I pulled up to Marisol’s place.The mansion whispered modern elegance, every line clean, every choice deliberate. It perched in the Los Angeles hills, wrapped in sleek white stucco and panes of glass that caught the sun like polished ice. Behind it, the view spilled wide over the sprawl, as if the house had swallowed the city whole.Inside, the space opened wide. High ceilings breathed above us. Soft lighting cast warmth over the pale walls. Dark hardwood pressed firm beneath my boots. Wide glass doors opened onto a terrace, where the breeze slipped inside and the walls forgot where they ended.Too pristine. Like a place that didn’t expect to be lived in.My place stood in contrast. Shadows and structure, all blacks, greys, and heavy wood. Hers was light, all air and angles.Like the house, she seemed made to rise above things. I was built to hold them in.A low-slung gray sectional grounded the living room, flanked by angular chairs and a glass table that gleamed like

• Dangerous Melodies   Chapter 5: Unfinished Harmony

  DANTEThe music stopped on a dime, the final note suspended for a breath before the director’s voice cut clean through. “That’s a wrap for today!”The crew exhaled as one. Movements slowed, tension bleeding from shoulders and steps as the sharp edge of the set dissolved.People swarmed Marisol instantly. One handed her water. Another dabbed her brow. Fingers smoothed loose strands of hair into place. She accepted it all with graceful ease, but her eyes were already scanning the space.She spotted Lucas and walked toward him, steps fluid and unhurried. My pulse surged, every click of her heels punching straight through my chest. She looked different. Glossier. Refined. But it was still her. That truth hit hard. I couldn’t look away. My eyes scanned her face, starving for a flicker of recognition. Nothing. Polite. Professional. Empty.Lucas lit up like he’d just signed a record deal. “Dante, this is Marisol. The one and only, international superstar.”She rolled her eyes, a small smile c

• Dangerous Melodies   Chapter 4: Forgotten Chords

  DANTEI lay sprawled across the bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, stiff and sour against my skin. The same ones I’d passed out in, clinging like the shame I hadn’t bothered to wash off. My shirt stuck to my chest, soaked with stale sweat and the sour stench of whiskey. Empty bottles circled the bed like forgotten landmines, sharp-edged reminders of how far I’d sunk. Last night was a blur. Just fragments of sound and firelight. Liquor. Regret. Silence too loud to ignore.The curtains stayed closed, sealing the room in thick, gray stillness. The kind that weighed on your shoulders. I drifted in and out of sleep, chasing nothing but the next blackout. Her memory lingered like smoke in my lungs, bitter and burning. Pressing against my ribs until every breath scraped. Marisol. Always her. Even now. Especially now.The door slammed open without warning, tearing through the quiet like a gunshot. I groaned, flinching at the noise, my head heavy as stone as I lifted it a few inches. Felix stor

• Dangerous Melodies   Chapter 3: Dirge of a Monster

  DANTEThe desk lamp flickered in the low light, shadows deepening around me as I took a slow sip of whiskey. My mind didn’t just drift to the years I’d spent hunting Marcos. It pulled me back further, to the day my father taught me what it meant to be ruthless.I’d been sixteen, old enough to understand, when my father captured the men who butchered my mother. It was our first lesson together. Hands-on retribution. A memory etched into me with blood and screams.He’d strapped them to wooden tables, their bodies taut with panic, eyes gleaming with terror. I still saw it. The way light caught the steel ax in his hand. The way their screams cracked through the air. The way blood sprayed, hot and wild, with every swing."Watch closely, Dante," he’d said. His voice was flat, cold. "You’ll need to be ruthless one day. Power comes from fear. Not mercy."I stood frozen as he raised the ax. My heart slammed against my ribs. Sweat slicked my palms. But I couldn’t look away. The first swing cleav

• Dangerous Melodies   Chapter 2: Refrain from the Past

  MARISOLThe past few weeks had been harrowing. A stalker had broken into my home, shaking me to the core. I’d fought him off with martial arts moves that came from somewhere deep inside.The police called it self-defense. Said I was lucky. But when I watched the security footage later, I barely recognized myself. Every move was fast and efficient, like I’d trained my whole life. A knee to his stomach. An elbow to his throat. I didn’t hesitate.That terrified me more than the break-in.Where had I learned that? Who had taught me to fight like that? A memory should’ve followed the motion, but there was nothing. Just my own voice, shaky and unfamiliar, reporting the attack like I was reading from a script.It wasn’t just the danger that rattled me. It was the reminder of a deeper truth: I didn’t remember who I was.The weight of amnesia settled over me like a second skin. I remembered nothing before waking in that sterile hospital bed six years ago. The doctors had called my survival a mi

• Dangerous Melodies   Chapter 1: Unfinished Symphony

  MARISOLThe words blurred as I half-listened to his endless chatter, my body tensing, not from anticipation but from frustration.Why did I even agree to this?These encounters had become predictable. Shallow. Meaningless connections that never truly satisfied me.My sigh was barely audible, my mind already drifting far from the man beneath me.His voice faded into the background, overtaken by the steady hum of my own need.I shifted slightly, feeling his hands slide over my hips as I straddled him, but the touch felt empty and disconnected.It’s never about them, I reminded myself. Just the release.It hadn’t always been like this.There was a time, early on, when my name had just started to mean something, when I still believed real connection was possible.He came into my life with a disarming smile and a camera-ready face, telling me I was special. Different. Worth more than the industry ever wanted me to be.I let him in.Opened my heart. My body. My world.And he used it.Used me