I let out a ragged sigh, muscles loosening under the haze. “Honestly? Not great. I feel so pathetic and alone. I wish someone would just hold me and tell me it’ll okay.” I squeezed the empty glass in my hand, vapor of my breath drifting in the cold air.
My confession spilled out like poison: “My sister is dead, all because of Caiden. If he hadn’t gotten her pregnant, she might still be alive.”
The words cut the silence like a knife. I tasted bitterness on my tongue and let it coat every syllable. “I’m so angry, dammit. I hate him. I want him to pay.”
I leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper that carried a dangerous edge. “You can help me, Dante. Help me get justice.”
He blinked, unsteady, caught between loyalty and my desperate plea.
He hesitated. The alcohol had fogged his mind, but I saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. I pressed on, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. “If you really care about me, follow my lead. You know what he did was unforgivable.”
He licked his lips, gaze falling to my hand. “But he’s my best friend,” he murmured, voice cracking.
I echoed Lillian’s fierce words as if they were my own: “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s done horrible things, and he needs to pay.” I reminded him of the promise he once made, to do anything for me.
His resolve crumbled. “Okay,” he whispered.
Victory bloomed in my chest.
I scooted closer, the coarse fabric of the couch pressing cool against my thighs and captured his lips with mine.
The kiss was a collision, raw desire tangled with the acidic tang of anger.
He responded fiercely, hands gripping my hips as if to anchor himself. His pulse throbbed against my palm, wild and uncertain.
He lifted me easily, the room spinning as he carried me down the dim hallway to his bedroom. The door clicked shut behind us, plunging us into deeper shadow.
Clothes were shed in a frantic dance: a discarded shirt, a stray sock, the rustle of fabric on bare skin. We tumbled onto the bed, sheets twisting around our legs.
His mouth trailed hot, urgent kisses along my collarbone, and every brush of his fingertips sent a jolt through me.
“Touch me,” I whispered into the darkness, my voice fierce and trembling. I had never been intimate like this with a person, and it terrified me, but in the haze of my vengeance, I let that terror slip into oblivion.
As Dante explored, pleasure and anger braided together inside me. An intoxicating, poisonous elixir.
My body responded to his touch even as my mind churned with thoughts of revenge. I felt the glowing ember of rage pulse through each vein, delicate yet ruinous.
In that fevered haze, I understood that anger was everything I had left, and I would let it consume every last part of me, whatever the cost.
What happened next was equal parts inevitable and wicked. The alcohol dissolved the last hesitations; the chemical warmth swelled inside me, sparking electricity beneath my skin.
Dante was desperate, a match to my gasoline, hungry for whatever I would give him. And I was all edges and venom, ready to ruin us both if it meant driving a stake through Caiden’s heart.
Dante’s hands mapped my body with the reverence of a disciple, but my mind hovered above, cold and observing.
His lips bruised my throat, collarbone, the hollow above my heart.
I craved the sting, needed it to prove I was still tangible, that I hadn’t drifted into shadowwith Lillian.
Each time he groaned, I thought of Caiden, imagined the sear of betrayal that would split his pretty, sneering face when he found out.
I dug my nails into Dante’s back, leaving half-moons he’d wear for days, marks I wanted Caiden to see and recognize. The thought alone made me arch harder into every movement, made me whisper Dante’s name so loud I hoped the entire block could hear.
I wanted to lose myself in the whiteout, to be remade by sensation, but the venom was always there. Pulsing, multiplying, refusing to let me go.
He cupped my face, breath ragged, whispering my name.
Dante, so careful and sincere, thinking he could rescue me with kindness when I only wanted the world to burn.
