Yet he had the audacity to look down on me.
Luca seemed to realize he had said the wrong thing. His expression changed, and he hurried to explain. "That's not what I meant. I just thought…"
But I no longer wanted to hear it. I had heard enough. Enough excuses. Enough dismissal. Enough of him treating my discomfort as vanity and my anger as overreaction.
The argument broke out instantly. Our voices grew sharper and louder, each sentence tearing open cracks that had long existed between us. The sweetness we once had seemed to collapse in that moment. All the tenderness, all the memories, all the promises suddenly felt fragile and false.
In the middle of our argument, Dante's wolf-like gaze flashed through my mind again.
And for the first time, I wondered if Luca had ever truly failed to see it. Or if he had seen everything clearly from the beginning and simply believed I was not worth protecting.
I stood at the entrance of the boardwalk, staring at the crowd flowing past me.
Children were laughing.
Couples were taking photos.
The bright music from the carnival rides drifted through the air, cheerful and lively.
But my mood sank little by little.
Luca had stood me up again.
It was not the first time.
Every time, he had a reason. Every time, something "suddenly came up." Every time, I was the one left waiting like a fool.
I took a deep breath, forcing down the disappointment and anger burning in my chest.
Fine.
If he did not come, then I would go in alone.
I had already bought the tickets. I had already made time for this. I refused to let another one of his excuses ruin my day.
But the moment I walked through the entrance, I saw a familiar figure standing not far away.
Dante.
He was wearing a casual jacket, one hand in his pocket, the other raised as he waved at me with a bright smile.
For a second, I froze.
He walked toward me naturally, as if he had been waiting there for a long time.
"Luca asked me to come with you," Dante explained. "Something came up at the last minute, and he couldn't make it."
A bitter feeling rose in my throat.
So Luca could not even be bothered to explain it to me himself.
He had simply pushed me onto Dante again.
Just like that night at the party.
But Dante's smile was warm beneath the sunlight, clean and gentle, so different from the dangerous gaze I remembered from before.
For some reason, the heaviness in my chest loosened a little.
Since he was already here, I had no reason to turn around and leave.
We went on the roller coaster first.
As the ride shot forward, screams erupted all around us.
The wind rushed against my face, tearing away the frustration I had been holding in. My heart pounded wildly, not from fear, but from a long-lost thrill.
For the first time in a long while, I laughed without forcing myself.
Dante sat beside me, laughing too.
When the ride ended, my legs were a little weak. Dante noticed immediately and reached out to steady me.
"Careful," he said.
His voice was light, but his hand was steady. I caught the faintest edge of his signet ring pressing cool against my arm where his fingers closed.
Later, he bought me cotton candy.
The soft pink sugar melted on my tongue, sweet enough to make my mood brighten without warning.
We walked side by side through the boardwalk, talking about the legitimate fronts, daily life, and all sorts of small, ordinary things. Two of his men trailed thirty feet behind us, close enough to intervene, far enough to pretend they weren't there. I had learned not to look back at them.
To my surprise, the conversation was easy.
Dante was not as difficult to approach as I had imagined.
Without realizing it, I began stealing glances at him.
Under the sunlight, his profile looked unexpectedly handsome.
