Page 19 of And Back

"Choose?" I scoff, stepping closer to him, my fists trembling with barely restrained fury. "She wouldn't have chosen this if you hadn't manipulated her!"

Dante's expression hardens, a flicker of irritation breaking through his calm exterior. "I'm not manipulating her," he insists. "Zoe came to me willingly. She's not a pawn in this game between us."

"A game?" I bark out a harsh laugh, my heart pounding in my chest. "This isn't a game, Dante! This is about Zoe's life! Her safety!"

"And you think keeping her locked up at your estate will work?" Dante counters, his voice steady but laced with steel. "She needs more than just protection; she needs freedom."

"Freedom?" I repeat, incredulous. "How can you talk about freedom when you're keeping her here against her will?"

Dante's eyes flash with anger for a moment before he reins it in. "I'm giving her a choice, Virgilio. Something she hasn't had in a long time."

"You're undermining everything I've done for her," I growl in frustration. "Do you even care about what this is doing to her? To me?"

Dante takes a deep breath, his hands finally emerging from his pockets as he steps closer to me. "Of course I care," he says quietly but firmly. "But caring about her means respecting her choices."

"Respecting her choices?" I echo bitterly. "What about my feelings? What about everything we've been through together?"

I stand there, breathing hard, the anger still simmering but starting to crack under the weight of my own confusion. Dante meets my gaze, his expression unwavering.

"You owe me, Virgilio," Dante says, his voice low and intense. "You think I don't understand what you're feeling? You think I don't know the stakes? I'm taking the brunt of Benedetto's punishment so you can carry out our plan."

I stare at him, my mind racing. The words cut through my anger like a knife. "What are you talking about?" I ask, my voice rough.

Dante takes a step closer, his eyes boring into mine. "Every time Benedetto lays a hand on me, it's because I'm drawing his attention away from you. I'm playing bait in this twisted game to keep him focused on me and not on you."

My breath catches in my throat. The fury that had consumed me begins to wane, replaced by a heavy guilt that settles in my chest like a lead weight.

"Do you think it's easy for me? Do you think I enjoy being Benedetto's punching bag? But it's necessary."

I nod, despite how much I hate it. "You're right," I admit, my voice barely more than a whisper. "But it doesn't make this any easier."

My mind drifts back to our past, memories flickering like old film reels. Dante shielding me from our father's wrath, taking blows that were meant for me. I remember his body crumpling under the force of our father's anger, the sound of his groans mingling with my own cries for him to stop. Guilt washes over me, cold and relentless.

I close my eyes, the images still vivid. Dante in a hospital bed, unconscious for months after taking a chair to the head for my sake. The fear I felt every day he was gone, wondering if he'd ever wake up—if he'd ever remember me. And when he did wake up, when he didn't recognize our mother or me... it was like losing him all over again.

Now he's here, standing in front of me, bearing the weight of our plan and Benedetto's fury just as he did back then. Despite my anger and frustration, a part of me is deeply grateful—indebted even—to my brother.

I know I can't let my personal feelings derail what we've set out to do. This isn't just about Zoe or me; it's about ending Benedetto's reign once and for all.

I swallow hard and force myself to meet Dante's gaze. "I'll let you have this week with her," I say, each word a struggle against my pride and pain. "For the sake of our plan."

Dante nods slowly, relief flickering in his eyes before being replaced by steely determination. "Good," he says quietly but firmly. "We need to stay focused on what's important."

His calmness grates on my nerves but also grounds me in reality. Our mission is bigger than our individual suffering; it's about liberation—our own and Zoe's.

I'll protect Zoe and bring an end to Benedetto's terror, even if it means enduring more pain and sacrifice.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ZOE

Isit on the edge of the bed, the silk sheets cold against my skin.

My heart feels like a trapped bird, fluttering frantically inside my chest. The room is too quiet, too still, making the pounding of my heart sound deafening. I glance at the clock on the ornate nightstand. It's well past midnight, and the compound is wrapped in an eerie silence.

Thoughts of Virgilio whirl through my mind, tangled with worry and fear.

What am I doing here? How can I trust Dante when every instinct screams to run back to Virgilio? I close my eyes, trying to will myself into calmness, but it's a losing battle.

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