Chapter 1: "I'm sorry... I came too late"
Elena's POV
The pain stops being sharp.
That's when I know I'm dying. The poison's shutting down my nerves one by one. My fingers are going numb. Can't feel my toes anymore.
Dante's holding my hand. His palm feels rough, covered in scars from years of killing. But he's being gentle right now, his thumb rubbing circles on my wrist like he can keep me here if he just holds on tight enough.
"Don't leave me." His voice cracks. "Please, Elena, just—I need to tell you—"
I want to say I already know. That I've always known he loved me, even when he pushed me away. Even when he treated me like I was nothing. Like I was just some deal he made to protect his family.
I want to say if I could go back to before everything went wrong, I'd save him. I'd stop him from turning into this. From becoming the kind of man who can't sleep without seeing blood on his hands.
But I can't get the words out. My throat's closed up. My lungs won't work. There's this pressure in my chest that keeps getting heavier.
The IV keeps dripping. That heart monitor's beeping slower. Each beep takes longer than the last. Dante's face goes blurry, like I'm looking at him through water.
Then nothing.
Next thing I know, there's music blasting in my ears.
I jerk awake. Crystal chandeliers blazing overhead. Bass pounding through the floor. Champagne and perfume everywhere.
I'm in a ballroom. Huge place, packed with people in costumes. I look down—I'm wearing this tight black dress with feathers all over it. Corset squeezing my ribs. Halloween costume.
Someone's holding my hand. Warm skin, no scars.
My stomach drops.
I turn my head.
Dante.
But he's young. Really young. No exhaustion in his face. No scars. His gray eyes look alive instead of dead inside.
He's talking to the crowd. "...appreciate everyone coming to celebrate the union between the Russo and Hart families."
Wait. Union. Engagement party. This is ten years ago.
I died. I know I died. How am I here?
"Elena." Dante's voice drops low, warning me. "Your hand."
Right. The ring. He wants me to hold out my hand so he can put that ring on in front of everyone.
I remember that ring. Wore it for three years while he barely looked at me. After I died, he left it on my grave.
Looking at his young face now, I can't hold it back. Tears just start pouring down my face.
"Elena?" He's frowning now.
I step back without meaning to. My elbow knocks into something behind me.
The champagne tower.
Everything happens in slow motion. Glasses crashing down, breaking, champagne spraying everywhere and soaking my dress.
The whole room shuts up.
Everyone's staring.
"What's her problem?"
"Is she crying?"
"She turning him down or what?"
Dante's face goes hard. But he keeps it together for the crowd, even manages a smile. "My fiancée needs a break."
He grabs my wrist—not rough, but I can't pull away.
"We'll be right back."
He drags me out of there. My heels click on the marble as we go down this long hallway. The music gets quieter. My head's spinning, trying to figure out what the hell is happening.
Dante shoves open a door and pushes me inside.
The lock clicks.
We're in some kind of wine cellar. Wooden barrels stacked against the walls. Smells like old wine and something else. Something metallic. Blood, maybe. Or just rust from the old pipes running along the ceiling. The light's dim enough that I can barely see half his face.
"Miss Hart." His voice could freeze water. "You trying to embarrass my family?"
I wipe my face, trying to think straight. Focus. My brain needs to work right now.
October 31st. Halloween.
Last time around, Dante killed Vincent tonight. Right here in this room. His dad's old assistant who sold them out. That's when everything started. That's when Dante went down the path that turned him into a killer. Into someone who couldn't stop until everyone who hurt him was dead.
Ten years later, he ate a bullet at my grave.
"I'm sorry," I say before I can stop myself. "I got here too late."
Dante just stares at me. "What're you talking about?"
I shake my head. Can't tell him I came back from the dead. He'll think I'm crazy. Or worse, he'll think I'm trying to mess with him. Think the Hart family's playing some kind of mind game.
But I have to stop this. Have to stop him from killing Vincent tonight. That's where it all goes wrong.
"Don't see Vincent tonight," I say. Try to sound confident. Like I know what I'm doing.
His eyes go dead cold.
He walks toward me. Doesn't stop until my back's against a barrel and the wood's digging into my spine. I can feel splinters through my dress.
"How do you know that name?"
"I just—"
"Your family spying on me?" His hand comes up, grips my chin hard enough to hurt. Makes me look right at him. "They send you in here to mess with my head?"
"No! Listen to me." I'm panicking now. Heart racing. "I know what you're gonna do. But Vincent's nobody. You kill him tonight and you'll blow your cover. The real guy behind everything? He'll disappear. He'll get away with it."
Dante stares at me. Like he's trying to read my mind.
Then he lets go and steps back.
"Nobody else knows about Vincent." His voice is quiet now. Dangerous quiet. "So how the fuck do you know?"
Shit. I said too much.
Last time, I didn't know about Vincent. Didn't know about any of Dante's plans. He kept me at arm's length our whole marriage, treated me like some roommate he was stuck with.
"Guess your family does good research." He laughs, but there's nothing funny about it.
He turns to leave.
"Wait!"
It comes out too loud. Echoes off the walls.
He stops. Doesn't turn around. Just stands there with his hand on the door.
I can see how tense he is. See his jaw working. He's about to walk out and do exactly what he did before.
"Your father," I say, voice shaking. "The person who really killed him—don't you wanna know?"
Silence. Long, heavy silence.
I hear my heart pounding. Hear the party music bleeding through from upstairs. Hear Dante breathing.
He's still got his hand on the door. Still has his back to me.
The oak barrels cast long shadows across the floor.
