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Ghosts Never Stay Buried
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2026-09-28 19:35:45Cassandra couldn't sleep.
The note burned in her mind. Ask him what he did. She stared at the ceiling of the guest room, her body still, her mind racing. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Isabella's face—cold, knowing, cruel.
She needed answers. She needed the truth.
She threw off the covers and padded through the dark hallways, her bare feet silent against the marble. She found Dante in his study, sitting in the dark, staring at the fire. He didn't turn when she entered. He'd known she was coming.
"Ask me," he said quietly.
She closed the door behind her. "What happened the night she left?"
---
Dante was silent for a long time.
Then he spoke. His voice was low, raw. He told her about Isabella—how he'd loved her, trusted her, believed she was the one. He told her about the night he discovered the truth—that Isabella had been feeding information to his enemies, selling his secrets to the highest bidder.
"I confronted her," he said. "I was consumed by rage. I grabbed her. I shook her. I screamed at her. I wanted to hurt her."
Cassandra's blood ran cold. "Did you?"
"No." He finally turned to look at her. His eyes were hollow. "But I almost did. I had my hands around her throat. I could have killed her. And a part of me wanted to."
He looked away.
"I stopped myself. I threw her out. I told her if I ever saw her again, I would kill her. She disappeared after that."
---
Cassandra stood frozen.
She understood his pain. She understood the betrayal, the rage, the need for vengeance. But she also understood Isabella's fear. Dante was dangerous. He was capable of terrible things. And she had been living in his world, sleeping in his bed, trusting him with her life.
"I need time," she whispered.
Dante's jaw tightened. "Cassandra—"
"I need time to process this."
She turned and walked out, leaving him alone in the dark.
---
She found herself in the garden.
The night air was cold against her skin. She sat on the stone bench, her arms wrapped around herself, staring at nothing. The roses were in full bloom, their petals silver in the moonlight.
Jane appeared beside her. She didn't speak. She just sat, silent, steady.
"I don't know what to do," Cassandra admitted.
"You don't have to know right now," Jane said quietly. "You just have to breathe."
Cassandra closed her eyes. She took a breath. Then another. Then another.
---
Dante found her there hours later.
He didn't speak. He just sat on the ground in front of her, his head bowed. The moonlight caught the lines of his face—the exhaustion, the guilt, the fear.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Cassandra reached out, her fingers brushing his hair. "I know."
"I'm not that man anymore. I swear to you."
"I know."
She slid off the bench, sitting beside him on the cold ground. He looked at her, his eyes red.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too."
---
They sat there together, the silence wrapping around them like a blanket. The stars wheeled overhead. The roses swayed in the breeze.
Eventually, Cassandra took his hand. "Let's go to bed."
He nodded. They walked back inside together, their fingers intertwined.
---
That night, they lay in their bed—the bed they shared, the bed where they'd made love, the bed where they'd whispered promises in the dark.
Cassandra rested her head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.
He held her tighter. "Neither am I."
She closed her eyes, finally allowing herself to rest.
---
A scream shattered the silence.
Cassandra's eyes flew open. Dante was already out of bed, reaching for his gun. The scream came again—high, piercing, desperate.
It was coming from the east wing.
---
They ran.
The hallway was chaos. Staff members were emerging from their rooms, their faces pale, their hands trembling. Jane was there, her eyes wide with terror.
"What happened?" Dante demanded.
"It's Miss Moore," Jane whispered. "She's—she's in the library. She's—"
Dante pushed past her, Cassandra close behind.
They burst into the library.
Isabella was on the floor. Her eyes were open. Her body was still.
She was dead.
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