Dante POV
The invitation had been gathering dust on the counter for weeks.
*St. Jude’s Academy. Class of 2014. Ten Year Reunion.*
I hadn't wanted to go. I had no desire to look into the faces of people who used to fear me in the hallways. But Sofia had insisted. She said it was good for our image. She wanted to show off the ring. She wanted to show off the Don.
So, inevitably, we went.
The ballroom was suffocating. The air smelled of expensive perfume and quiet desperation. Men in rented tuxedos clapped me on the back, their palms sweating against my jacket. Women eyed Sofia with a sharp jealousy that made her preen like a peacock.
"You look tense, darling," Sofia whispered, running a manicured hand down my arm as if smoothing out a wrinkle in her favorite accessory.
"I'm fine."
I wasn't fine. I felt like a caged animal. Every corner of this room held a ghost. Over there, by the punch bowl, was where I had first kissed Elena. By the exit, that was where we had once planned our escape.
"Attention, everyone!"
The Class President, a man whose name had long since faded from my memory, tapped a microphone on the stage.
"Ten years ago, we all wrote letters to our future selves," he announced, beaming. "Tonight, we open them."
A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. Waiters began circulating with baskets of envelopes.
"I didn't write one," I said to Sofia, my voice flat.
"Of course you did," she said, grabbing an envelope with my name on it from a passing basket. "Look. Dante Vitiello."
She tore it open before I could stop her.
"Read it to me," she giggled, leaning in, her breath sweet with champagne. "Let's see if the great Don achieved his dreams."
She pulled out the sheet of notebook paper. Her smile faltered.
I ripped the paper from her hand.
The handwriting was messy, rushed. I remembered writing it in detention, while Elena sat two desks away, pretending to study Chemistry.
*To Future Dante,*
*If you are reading this, you better be in Aspen. You better be sitting on the porch of that cabin with Elena. You better have a ring on her finger. Don't let your father turn you into him. Marry her. She is the only world you need.*
The words blurred before my eyes.
*She is the only world you need.*
Sofia was staring at me. Her face was pale. She had seen the name.
"Give it to me," she hissed, reaching for the paper with claw-like fingers.
I crumpled it in my fist. "No."
I turned and walked away. I needed air. I needed a drink. I needed to punch something.
"Dante?"
A hand grabbed my elbow. I spun around, ready to strike.
It was Luca. A guy I used to play football with a lifetime ago. He looked nervous, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting a hitman to jump out from behind the curtains.
"What?" I snapped.
"I... I heard about the fire," Luca said quietly. "At the estate."
I stiffened. "Yeah. Sofia saved me."
Luca frowned. He looked down at his drink, then back at me, conflict warring in his gaze.
"Dante, I was there. I was driving past the estate when it happened. I saw the smoke. I stopped to call 911."
"So?"
"I saw who dragged you out," Luca said.
My heart stopped. It didn't beat. It just froze in my chest.
"It wasn't Sofia," Luca whispered, his voice trembling. "It was the girl. The one with the dark hair. Elena."
I stared at him. The noise of the party faded into a dull, distant buzz.
"You're lying," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "Sofia had the burns. She had the smoke inhalation."
"I saw her, Dante. She dragged you onto the lawn. She was... she was on fire. Her back... a beam must have hit her. She pushed you toward Sofia when the sirens started. Then she ran."
He paused, looking terrified of my reaction.
"She looked bad, Dante. Really bad."
I backed away from him. I couldn't breathe.
The burns. The scars on the floor of her apartment. The way she flinched when I touched her back.
*I did it for the money,* she had said.
Liar.
I turned and ran out of the ballroom.
