Chapter 10: Nocturne of the Soul

DANTE

The guest house loomed ahead. I shoved the front door open.

Felix stayed close, his nails tapping across the floor behind me.

As I neared the bathroom, my steps faltered.

Everything in me braced.

And then—

I was sixteen again.

Feet frozen outside my father’s bedroom door.

The smell of gun oil and her perfume twisted in the air like rot and roses. I stepped in, and the world tilted.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, her favorite red dress draped across his lap like it was something sacred. One hand fisted in the fabric. The other held a gun.

He didn’t look at me.

“They carved her up like meat,” he said. “Because of me. Because I made enemies and believed I could keep her safe.”

“Dad—” My voice cracked. Too soft. Too late.

His eyes found mine. Hollow. Unforgiving.

“Love is a weakness, son. You let it in, and it will be your end. Just like it was hers.”

“Don’t,” I said, stepping forward. “Please. I need you.”

But the gun was already rising.

His last words—

“So don’t make my mistake.”

Then he pulled the trigger.

The sound never left me.

My heart slammed into my ribs, loud and steady. A brutal rhythm that drowned out everything else.

Cold light spilled through the open doorway. Too harsh against the hallway walls. It didn’t belong there.

None of this did.

Please don’t let me be too late.

She stood in front of the mirror, its glass cracked into jagged splinters. Her back was rigid, shoulders locked. One hand held a broken shard, the edge tilted too close to her throat.

Blood slid down her arm in narrow, trembling lines. It dripped onto the tile in slow, steady drops.

My stomach twisted, pulling hard.

“Marisol.” Her name left my mouth quiet, barely a breath. Closer to a prayer than anything else.

She stiffened. In the broken glass, red-rimmed eyes locked onto mine, confusion breaking through the fog in her expression.

“Put the glass shard down.” I kept my voice steady, though my insides screamed. One wrong move, and she might cut too deep, bleed out before I could stop it.

Fresh tears traced down her cheeks. The shard shook in her hand, unsteady but still sharp enough to promise a way out.

“There’s no other way,” she said, her voice raw. Not just pain. Something heavier. Like she’d already given up.

“Yes, there is.” I took a careful step forward. “Let me help you. You’ll be safe with me. I never meant to send you back or hurt you.” My chest tightened, the weight of it finally crushing. “The anger drove me to scare you. I was wrong.”

“I’m so tired of being scared.” Her voice cracked. “I just want to be free.”

“You can be.” Gentle. Firm. “I’ll help you. Let me handle it.”

The glass inched closer to her skin.

“Please take care of Mr. Buttons,” she whispered. “He’s loved me more than my family ever did.”

Her shoulders began to shake, silent sobs rolling through her like waves she couldn’t stop.

Blood tapped the tile, soft and rhythmic.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes beginning to close like she’d already let go.

No.

I lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. “Stop.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, body jolting beneath my hold. The shard shook, slick with blood. I tried prying at her fingers, but she twisted, wild and unrelenting.

I had no choice.

I moved behind her in one smooth shift, locking in a carotid restraint. My elbow pressed gently against her arteries, enough to cut the fight short without hurting her. She thrashed once, then sagged.

The shard tumbled from her fingers and shattered across the tile.

Her body slackened in my arms. I caught her before she could fall.

“Call the doctor,” I said. “Then get the first-aid kit.”

Felix’s footsteps pounded down the hall, heading straight for the kitchen.

I stayed over her, barely breathing, eyes locked on the soft rise and fall of her chest.

She was still with me. Still breathing. Still alive.

She wasn’t heavy. I’d carried bodies before. Dead weight didn’t shake me.

But this was her.

Warm, bleeding, still breathing. And I’d been the one who pushed her to the edge.

My grip locked tighter around her. I couldn’t stop the image—the gun in my father’s hand, the way he looked at me right before he pulled the trigger. His voice still echoed, even now.

Love is a weakness, son. You let it in, and it’ll be your end.

Back then, I’d thought I failed because I hadn’t stopped him.

Now I knew worse.

I’d become him.

She was in my arms because of me. Not just what I’d said, but what I’d made her believe. That she was alone. Cornered. That there was no way out but this.

Her skin was slick with blood. Her hair brushed my chin as I adjusted her closer. Berries and crushed flowers. It didn’t belong in this nightmare, but it clung to her like defiance. Like she was still fighting, even now.

“I’ve got you.” The words slipped out, low and hoarse, just louder than the rush in my ears. “You’re safe now. I promise.”

Her breath fluttered against my collarbone. Shallow. Fragile.

I held her like a lifeline.

As I shifted her, her camisole lifted, and I froze.

Scars.

Faint lines, crisscrossed her back. My breath stalled. Each one screamed of cruelty. Of torment no one should ever endure. A sick twist of horror churned inside me, chased by a fury so black it clawed at the edges of my control.

I looked down at her face. Pale. Soft with sleep or shock, I couldn’t tell. But beneath it all, I still saw her.

The woman who screamed at me with fire in her eyes. Who stood her ground even when the world told her to kneel.

I’d mistaken that fire for defiance. Now I saw it for what it was. Survival.

She’d fought so hard to hold onto herself.

And I almost destroyed that.

She didn’t need more pressure. She needed someone steady. Someone willing to just... stay. However long it took.

I didn’t know if I deserved that role. But I wanted it.

No more using her pain like a chess piece. No more pushing just to see how far she’d bend.

If she gave me another chance... I’d spend it protecting her, not testing her.

Even if I had to burn for it.

Felix rushed in, first-aid kit in hand, but stopped cold. His expression tightened. Revulsion flashed in his eyes. Shock.

“Who would do that?” The whisper barely made it out.

I hovered over one of the raised scars, fingers trembling as I traced the pain carved into her skin.

Who the hell did this to you?

The rage twisted tighter in my chest, sharp enough to cut. Dangerous now. Close to the edge.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice flat. Dead. “But I’ll find them.”

A pause.

“And I’ll end them.”

Felix didn’t answer right away. He just stared at me.

Not like I was his boss. Not like I was the man who always had a plan. This look was something else.

Like maybe, for the first time, he saw past the control. Past the mask.

He nodded once. A quiet kind of vow.

And maybe that was all he could give me right now. But it was enough.