Chapter 12 - The ConfessionClara stood up from the chair, pacing the bloody bedroom floor.
“I am not your weakness, Dante,” she argued, her voice trembling.
“I am just a nurse who was at the wrong subway station at the wrong time.”
Dante let out a dark, breathless chuckle.
“If you believe that, you are lying to yourself.”
He reached his hand out toward her, a silent demand.
Clara hesitated, but she walked over and placed her small hand in his large, calloused palm.
“I have killed men for simply looking at me the wrong way,” Dante confessed quietly.
“I have built an empire on fear and absolute control.”
His icy blue eyes softened, melting into something deep and entirely vulnerable.
“But when I thought those men were going to break into that vault and hurt you...”
“I felt real terror for the first time in my miserable life.”
Clara’s breath hitched, the emotional confession tearing down her final walls.
“Dante, we live in two completely different worlds,” she whispered, tears falling down her cheeks.
“Then I will burn my world down to step into yours,” he vowed fiercely.
He pulled her hand, bringing her down to sit on the edge of the mattress.
Despite his severe injuries, he wrapped his strong arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach.
Clara ran her fingers through his dark hair, giving in to the overwhelming tide of her feelings.
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She knew she should run far away from this dangerous, bloody life.
But her heart had already made the terrifying choice to stay.
