He Came For Me

The bar was dimly lit, thick with smoke and the smell of cheap perfume.

Dante sat alone at the counter, his third glass of whiskey in his hand. The amber liquid swirled as he stared at it. He'd lost count of how many he'd had. He didn't care.

Cassandra's face haunted him. Her tears. Her voice. I love you.

And he'd walked away.

He downed the whiskey in one gulp, signaling for another.

A woman appeared beside him. She was beautiful, bold, dressed in a dress that left little to the imagination. Her hand landed on his chest.

"Buy me a drink?" she purred.

Dante didn't respond.

She took his silence as encouragement. Before he could react, she climbed onto his lap, her legs straddling him. Her hands roamed his chest, her lips brushing his ear.

"I've been watching you all night," she whispered. "You look like you need someone to take care of you."

Dante's jaw tightened. "Get off."

"Come on, baby. Don't be shy—"

He grabbed her wrists, shoving her off him roughly. "I said no."

The woman stumbled back, her face twisting with anger. "What's wrong with you?"

Dante ignored her. He threw cash on the counter and walked out into the cold night.

---

The mansion was quiet.

Dante stumbled through the hallways, his steps unsteady. He went straight to Cassandra's room, desperate to see her.

Empty.

His heart lurched. "Cassandra?"

No answer.

He pulled out his phone, dialing her number. He heard it—her ringtone, coming from the nightstand.

She left her phone.

Panic gripped him. He picked up the phone, scrolling through it. His eyes landed on the call log.

Missed calls from Christopher. Multiple.

Rage burned through him. He'd been betrayed. Again. Just like Isabella. Just like everyone.

He grabbed the phone and stormed out.

---

The drive to Evelyn's house was a blur.

Dante's hands gripped the wheel, his knuckles white. The whiskey clouded his judgment, but the rage was clear.

He arrived, stumbling to the door. Evelyn opened it, her eyes widening at his state.

"Dante? What happened?"

"I need to see Cassandra."

Evelyn hesitated, then stepped aside. She led him to Cassandra's room.

She was asleep, her face peaceful, innocent. Dante's heart ached. How could she look so peaceful after everything?

He entered, closing the door behind him.

He dropped the phone smoothly on the bed.

"Your Christopher has been calling," he said coldly. "You should speak to him."

Cassandra stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She saw him. Saw the phone.

"Dante—"

But he was already gone.

She sat up, her heart pounding. He'd come. He'd come for her. And she'd let him leave.

Go after him, a voice screamed. Don't let him go.

But she couldn't move.

There on the bed, she stayed still.

---

Dante stumbled toward the front door, his chest tight. He couldn't stay. He shouldn't have come.

"Wait."

Evelyn's voice stopped him. He turned.

"Stay. Please."

He wanted to say no. But something in her eyes made him pause.

He followed her to the kitchen.

---

Evelyn sat him down at the small table. She placed a plate of food in front of him, a glass of water beside it.

"You need to eat," she said. "Drink water. You've had too much to drink."

Dante stared at the food. His stomach churned. But he picked up his fork and ate.

Evelyn watched him, her eyes soft.

"Cassandra thinks I was with Isabella," Dante said finally. "I wasn't."

"I know."

"She's been calling me. I didn't answer."

Evelyn nodded. "Isabella is a ghost from your past. A ghost you need to bury."

Dante looked up. "What do you know about Isabella?"

"I know she's not the one you need to be worried about." Evelyn reached across the table, her hand covering his. "Christopher isn't Cassandra's ex. He wanted to marry her. He only came to see her. Nothing happened."

"But the picture—"

"Was taken by someone who wants to destroy you." Evelyn's voice was firm. "Don't believe everything you see, Dante. People lie. Photos can be manipulated."

Dante's jaw tightened. He wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe Cassandra hadn't betrayed him.

"Your aunt," Evelyn continued. "She's the one who told you, isn't she?"

Dante nodded.

"She's trying to tear you apart. Don't let her win."

Dante stared at his plate. The food sat heavy in his stomach. But something else was stirring—hope.

"You belong together," Evelyn said quietly. "Fight for her. Don't let fear destroy what you have."

Dante looked up. "She's the first person who's ever made me feel like I'm more than just a monster."

"Then don't lose her."

---

Cassandra walked into the kitchen.

She saw him. Dante. Sitting at the table, eating her grandmother's food. Her heart stopped.

She tried to hide her excitement. Tried to play it cool.

But her eyes gave her away.

Dante looked up. His lips curved into a smirk. He saw through her. He always did.

Evelyn smiled, standing. "I'll leave you two alone."

She walked out. Entering her room she closed the door behind her.

The silence was charged.

Cassandra wanted to speak. Wanted to apologize. Wanted to explain.

But the words wouldn't come.

Dante stood, walking toward her. His eyes were dark, intense.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly. "Not without you."

Cassandra's eyes burned with tears.

"I thought—"

"You thought wrong."

He pulled her into his arms, his grip tight. She clung to him, her face buried in his chest.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I know." He kissed the top of her head. "I love you too. And I'm never letting you go again."