Headlines in the Morning

The safe house was hidden deep in the countryside.

Cassandra stood at the window, watching Dante's men secure the perimeter. They moved with precision, checking every corner, every shadow. Her grandmother was inside, safe for now.

But Cassandra couldn't shake the fear.

Evelyn appeared behind her, her hand resting on Cassandra's shoulder. "You're worrying too much."

"Someone sent me a photo of you," Cassandra said, her voice tight. "They know where you are. They know everything."

Evelyn's face paled, but she forced a smile. "I'm fine. You're here. That's all that matters."

Cassandra turned, pulling her grandmother into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to drag you into this."

"Don't apologize." Evelyn held her close. "Your mother would be proud of you. I'm proud of you."

Cassandra's eyes burned with tears. She held on tighter.

Dante watched from the doorway.

He saw the love between them. The fear. The determination. His chest tightened. He'd do anything to protect them. Anything.

"We need to go," he said quietly. "It's not safe to stay long."

Cassandra nodded. She kissed her grandmother's cheek.

"I'll be back soon," she promised. "I'll make sure you're safe."

Evelyn squeezed her hand. "I know you will."

---

The morning headlines were brutal.

Moretti Engagement Scandal: Is It All a Lie?

Who Is Cassandra Hayes? The Mystery Behind the Ring.

Age Gap, Secrets, and Suspicion: The Real Story.

Cassandra stared at the newspapers spread across the breakfast table. Her face was on every front page. Her name was being dragged through the mud.

"I can't do this," she whispered. "I can't—"

Dante's hand covered hers. "Yes, you can."

"They're tearing me apart."

"They're jealous." His voice was firm. "They don't know you. They don't know anything."

Cassandra looked at him. His eyes were steady, unwavering.

"It doesn't matter what they say," he continued. "What matters is the truth. And the truth is, you're here. You're fighting. You're not running."

She took a shaky breath. "How do you stay so strong?"

"Because I have something to fight for now." His thumb traced her knuckles. "Someone to fight for."

Her heart ached. She squeezed his hand.

---

Samantha called. Her voice was bright, reassuring.

"Cass, ignore the headlines. They don't know anything."

"Everyone's looking at me," Cassandra said. "Everywhere I go, people are staring."

"Let them stare." Samantha laughed. "You're engaged to a billionaire. They're just jealous."

Cassandra laughed despite herself. "You're terrible."

"I'm honest. There's a difference." Samantha's voice softened. "Seriously, Cass. You know the truth. That's all that matters. Stay strong."

"Thanks, Sam."

"Always."

---

Dante found Cassandra in her room later that evening.

She was sitting on the bed, her knees pulled to her chest. The headlines were still on her mind. She couldn't shake them.

He sat beside her. His shoulder brushed hers.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry for all of this."

He took her hand. "You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn't your fault."

She looked at him, her eyes red and swollen. "What do we do now?"

"We keep going." His voice was steady. "We don't give them what they want. We stay strong."

"I don't know if I can."

He pulled her into his arms. She clung to him, her fingers gripping his shirt like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I know this is hard," he murmured against her hair. "But I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you."

Cassandra looked up at him. Her eyes searched his face, demanding, desperate. She didn't say a word. She just leaned in and kissed him.

It was fierce, desperate. A kiss that said everything she couldn't put into words.

Dante was surprised at first, then he responded, his hands tangling in her hair. When they finally pulled apart, he was breathless.

He laughed softly, a low rumble in his chest.

"You always need permission, don't you?" he murmured. "Always asking before you take."

Her cheeks flushed. "I wasn't asking this time."

"No." His eyes darken. "You weren't."

He kissed her again, deeper this time. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers.

"Don't ever ask permission for that," he said quietly. "Not from me. Never from me."

Her heart pounded. "Okay."

Cassandra looked up at him, her heart pounding.

"I don't want this engagement to be fake anymore," she whispered.

Dante's eyes darken. "What?"

"I want this to be real. I want us to be real."

Dante stared at her. His jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to respond—

His phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen. His face went pale.

"What is it?" Cassandra asked.

Dante looked up at her.

"Isabella," he said. "She wants to talk. She says it's about your mother."

Cassandra's blood ran cold.

"Grace Hayes," she whispered. "What does she know?"

"I don't know." Dante's voice was tight. "But I'm going to find out."

He stood, pulling out his phone. Cassandra watched him, her heart pounding.

She didn't know what Isabella wanted. But she knew one thing—it couldn't be good.