FAZER LOGINCINNAMONTwo months later...I had fallen into yet another trap of deception and lies. Another shattered heart. Another failed romance. But this time felt different.This time, I was utterly destroyed.More than my resentment for the Moretti brothers, I loathed myself. For being a victim once more. For not recognizing the signs. For being foolish enough to think someone like Dante could genuinely love someone like me without ulterior motives.My life has become a spectacle for public scrutiny. My loved ones were dragged into a mess I created by trusting the wrong man. We made headlines for all the wrong reasons—analyzed, dissected, judged by millions of strangers who thought they knew our story.Every day brought new attacks. New names hurled at me like weapons.Gold digger. Scammer. Daddy's little accomplice.But the one that truly broke me? Murderer's daughter.My father. My amazing, hardworking, honest father, reduced to a villain in a story I still didn't fully understand.I could
DANTE"Cinnamon—" I reached for her again, desperate, feeling like I was drowning."DON'T!" She stepped back until she hit the wall, physically flinching from my touch as if I were toxic. "Don't touch me. Don't come near me. I can't—I need—"She couldn’t finish. She couldn’t breathe. Her chest heaved with panic or grief or perhaps a mix of both.I stood there, speechless and completely helpless.How was I supposed to explain? Where would I even begin? My deception? The tangled web of lies and death that linked our families?Marcus shouldn’t have been the one to tell her. I should've told her sooner. Fuck me for waiting for the right time to tell her everything.Marcus had been too quiet lately; I should have sensed he was planning something, should have predicted this very scenario.But I hadn’t. And now she looked at me as if I were a stranger, as if everything between us had been a lie.He could have targeted my company, my projects, my reputation and I wouldn’t have cared. But not
CINNAMON:He walked toward us from the entrance we had just come through, a briefcase in one hand and that familiar cocky smile spread across his face, as if he had been invited and had every right to be here.A chill ran through me. Nothing good ever came from Marcus's presence. He was a walking disaster. But I wouldn’t let him spoil this night not the one Dante had planned with such care.When Marcus reached our table, we both sat there, frozen in disbelief. He set his briefcase down, letting it fall with a thud. He placed both palms flat on the white tablecloth, leaning forward and invading our space with an audacity only the most insufferable people possess.Dante's grip tightened around my hand.Marcus's grin widened. "Hello, brother. Hello, ex-fiancée." His gaze locked onto mine. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything important."The word "important" lingered in the air like a threat.My heart raced against my ribs. Dante's confession would have to wait until we finished with this
CINNAMONI had never felt this level of happiness before. My body felt cherished, and my heart felt secure. This man had erased every trace of heartbreak that Marcus had left behind, replacing it with something I had never known—true love.We hadn't started off on the best note. The fake engagement, the lies, the walls we both built. Yet somehow, we managed to find our way to this moment together, creating something beautiful and daunting that was worth fighting for.Every day with Dante, I witnessed our growth not just as individuals but as genuine partners. I had already begun envisioning a future with him—a house and kids. The picture I kept painting was stunning.Yesterday, he asked me to clear my schedule for today February fourteenth, Valentine's Day. And as always, he wouldn’t reveal his plans; he simply mentioned that his driver would pick me up at eight PM.I had made preparations too. I set up a backup plan in my apartment—dinner, wine, candles ready to be lit if his grand g
DANTEI changed in the bathroom, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. The pants looked even more ridiculous up close, and the peach and strawberry pattern was worse than I had anticipated. But they were soft and carried her scent.When I stepped out, she erupted in laughter."Don't," I said, pointing at her. "Not a word.""I wasn't going to say anything," she replied, still giggling."You're thinking it.""I'm just thinking you look adorable.""Men don’t look adorable.""You do right now." She came closer with a green scrunchie that matched the pants. "Now hold still.""What are you—no. Absolutely not.""It’s to protect your hair while you sleep." She was already gathering my hair. "Trust me.""I'm drawing a line—"But she had already tied it into a small ponytail on top of my head.Looking in the mirror again, I realized "ridiculous" didn’t even begin to cover it."I hate this," I said."You love it." She kissed my cheek. "Now come on; Great British Baking Show is waiting."We se
DANTEJapan felt like a dream. The reality was that I had been back home for days, overwhelmed with work, barely sleeping, and missing everyone, especially her.I had immersed myself in catching up on everything that piled up while we were away: contracts, meetings, crisis management. Hours slipped by without me noticing until my eyes burned and my neck ached.I didn’t have time to spend with Cinnamon. We texted as much as possible throughout the day since we hardly saw each other. She would always send me pictures of cute things and countless reels that I barely had time to watch, and I replied with one-word responses between conference calls.It was frustrating.To make it up to her, I started planning something special for Valentine’s Day, just five days away, something significant enough to ease the guilt of being absent right after our return.Despite my hectic schedule, I made sure to call her late at night and stayed on the phone until she drifted off to sleep, her breathing ca







