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Dante's Unexpected Defense
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2026-10-03 20:20:04Cassandra walked out of the holding facility on unsteady legs.
The cold air hit her face, sharp and biting, but she barely felt it. Her mind was still trapped in that small room, still hearing Jane's words echoing in her skull. You're a monster. You just don't know it yet.
She wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers digging into her sleeves. Her chest felt tight. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.
Dante was waiting outside.
He stood by the car, his hands shoved into his pockets, his jaw tight. The moment he saw her, he crossed the distance between them in three long strides. His hands found her face, tilting it up toward his.
"Hey," he said softly. "Look at me."
She looked at him. Her eyes were red, swollen. Her lips trembled.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have protected you. I should have seen what she was."
"You did protect me." Her voice cracked. "You found her. You saved me."
He shook his head. "I should have done more."
She didn't argue. She didn't have the strength. She just stepped into his arms, her face buried in his chest.
He held her. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, shielding her from the world. His lips pressed to her hair. His breath was warm against her skin.
They stood there for a long time. The world moved around them—cars passing, people walking, life continuing. But they stayed still, holding each other.
---
They returned to the new house.
It was smaller than the mansion—a modest two-story home on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by trees. The staff was new, carefully vetted. The security was doubled. The house was safe.
Cassandra should have felt safe.
But she didn't.
She walked through the rooms, her fingers trailing along the walls. Everything was new. Everything was clean. Everything was perfectly arranged.
But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. That someone was watching. That the danger wasn't over.
---
That night, Cassandra had a nightmare.
She was back in the mansion. The one where Jane had poisoned her. She was sitting in the kitchen, a cup of tea in front of her. Jane was there, smiling, pouring the tea.
"Drink up," Jane said. "It's your favorite."
Cassandra lifted the cup to her lips. She took a sip. Then another.
Then she felt it. The burning in her throat. The dizziness in her head. The darkness closing in.
She fell. The cup shattered. Jane laughed.
Cassandra woke up screaming.
---
Dante was there instantly.
He pulled her into his arms, his hands cupping her face, his voice urgent. "Cassandra. Cassandra, look at me. You're safe. You're here. You're with me."
She clung to him, her body shaking. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn't speak. She could only hold on.
He held her. He rocked her. He whispered reassurances against her hair.
"I'm here," he said. "I'm here. You're safe."
---
The next morning, Dante continued his investigation.
Jane wasn't working alone. He was sure of it. Someone had helped her—someone had given her the poison, told her when to strike, provided the information she needed.
He called Marco. He called Evan. He called in every favor he had.
The trail led to an old enemy. A man named Salvatore—Vincent's rival from years ago, defeated and exiled. He'd been planning his revenge ever since.
---
Dante confronted Salvatore.
He found him in a warehouse on the edge of the city—a broken-down building that smelled of rust and decay. Salvatore was waiting for him, a gun in his hand, a smile on his face.
"I wondered when you'd come," Salvatore said.
"You helped Jane," Dante said. "You gave her the poison."
Salvatore shrugged. "She came to me. She wanted revenge. I wanted revenge. It was a perfect partnership."
"You tried to kill Cassandra."
"I tried to destroy you." Salvatore's smile widened. "And I almost succeeded."
---
Dante didn't kill him.
He wanted to. Every fiber of his being screamed for vengeance. But he turned Salvatore over to the authorities—not before making sure he'd never touch his family again.
It was over. Finally over.
---
Cassandra slept through the night.
For the first time in weeks, she didn't have a nightmare. She didn't wake up screaming. She didn't reach for Dante in the darkness.
She just slept.
When she woke, the sun was streaming through the windows. Dante was beside her, his arm draped across her waist.
She turned to look at him. His face was peaceful. Relaxed. The lines around his eyes had softened.
She smiled. A real smile.
---
That morning, Cassandra received a call from her grandmother.
Evelyn's voice was frail, broken. She sounded older than she ever had.
"Cassandra. I need to see you. Before it's too late."
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