Chapter 3

RAVENNA'S POV

The cheers in the stadium felt far away. My ears rang like a bomb had gone off near me. The sounds became foggy, and my head felt like I was underwater. My chest was oddly calm, but only I knew the rage that was simmering within me. I should have left, gone to find Anny, and drowned myself in cheap alcohol. I should have run away and buried myself in pain and agony. Do what I always did. But something made me stay in my seat, frozen under the blinding neon and noise.

I watched fervently as Dante drew Lily closer to him, how her hands cradled his face as they deepened the kiss. Cheers kept erupting, and choruses of "Aww" flew around. How Ares and the rest of his friends, who never truly accepted me, were cheering and hooting. They separated, and Lily buried her face in his chest in embarrassment, and they started teasing her. The sight would have been cute and wholesome if they were strangers, but they weren't. My boyfriend and another woman. How ironic.

And then the giant screen shifted again, fate trying to be more funny apparently. It swept across the crowd until suddenly, my face filled the screen.

A collective "ooh" rose from the audience as their attention shifted to me. My brows furrowed, and I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the spotlight's harsh rays. I blinked fast, trying to get used to the lights.

Somewhere between Dante's disgusting theatrics and the chaos of the crowd hauling me up, I had been separated from where Anny and I sat. Now, seated beside me, was a man I had never seen before.

But he didn't seem to be just any man.

He was a strikingly handsome man in an obsidian-black wheelchair, posture regal, expression as cold as the North Wind. His suit was immaculate, and his eyes didn't meet mine, fixed instead on some distant, private horizon. His aura oozed danger, and there was a sickly tint to it. I got curious because he had the aura of a living person and a corpse. The sick, decaying scent was stuck on him like glue. But he wasn't dead, his hands were moving, and he was breathing. Why would a living being have the aura of someone who had died not recently but years ago?

The camera caught both of us in the same frame, splashed across the massive screen for hundreds or even thousands to see. The crowd started clapping, chanting, urging us to kiss each other.

I quickly waved my hand in refusal, not interested in being part of the circus. He was a complete stranger that I had never met before, and now if Dante was done sucking Lily's lips, he would have seen my face on the screen. He would know that I had caught him red-handed. The cameraman got the hint and moved on, setting the scene for some other teen couple who looked too shy to hold hands.

When I glanced back down, the man's complexion seemed pale, too pale. His jaw was clenched, and though his body was still, there was something off. His aura grew dark fast, and the corpse-like stench grew stronger.

My medical instinct kicked in before I thought of discerning what was truly going on. I had to save his life first, then ask questions.

"You're not fine," I said quietly, leaning toward him, shielding him from the eyes of others. The air was hot and filled with a lot of contamination. He probably couldn't breathe well because I saw the labored rise and fall of his chest.

I took out my portable hand fan and placed it right in front of his nose to ensure he couldn't receive any air, though it wasn't doing anything big.

A dark flicker passed through his gaze, like the first shadow of a storm; it took me by surprise, and I was hooked to the spot. It was dangerous and felt like a vicious viper was heading my way. Whoever this was, he was a dangerous person, like a wild animal trying to tame its predatory instincts and not lounge at my throat. But before I could do anything, a wall of men in black closed in around us. Bodyguards, professional, efficient, radiating the kind of silent authority that only comes from serving someone important.

One of them stepped forward, ready to wheel him away, but I lifted a hand. "His breathing is irregular, labored, and heavy. We need to give him some relief. Loosen his collar and elevate his legs slightly. Keep the crowd from pressing in and contaminating the air he manages to take in. If you have a mask, then it would be nice if you put it on him in case he is allergic to a particular scent." My voice was crisp, automatic, not wanting them to notice the tremors. I stood back and tried to calm my racing heart as every inch in my body was telling, rather screaming at me to leave there.

For a heartbeat, they just stared at me. Then, without a word, they followed my instructions.

I stepped back, watching until his breathing steadied. He turned his gaze to me for some seconds before a bodyguard handed him a mask, and he put it on. It was pure black and covered every inch of his skin except for his eyes and nose.

When they began to escort him out, I didn't try to follow. I turned to leave when I heard a loud thumping near me. I turned to see one of the large bodyguards standing before me with an expressionless face.

"Can I help you?"I asked, trying to stabilize my voice.

He didn't say a word, just took out a bundle of something, shoved it into my hands, and walked away. I looked down to see that it was a bundle of cash and a note taped to the side saying: "You didn't see anything or anyone, and make sure it stays like that or else...."

I might have been a nosy person, but I knew when not to cross the line and talk about certain things. Whoever that guy was, he had a lot of complications in his life, and I didn't want to add to my current situation.

My current situationship with my boyfriend and his white moonlight love. My phone buzzed with a message from Anny telling me she'd found the bar and was asking where I was. I told her I was heading home and I would take an Uber. She could continue at the party.

I sent my phone to airplane mode because I knew she would try to call me and ask what happened. She would see the end-of-match recaps on social media. She would see the absolute joke I had been made of.

The entire cab ride back was one filled with silence. I was hurt badly by what I saw, but my mind couldn't help drifting back to the man I had attended to. I couldn't shake the feeling that the man was… dangerous. Not in the ordinary way. Dangerous in the way of someone who could change the course of my life.

And I was totally right. Because the very next evening, my father called me. Something that was rarer than pink snowflakes falling in the summer.

"Come to the main house," he said. His voice was businesslike, not warmly or fatherly like it had never been. "There's been a change in plans."

What plans? I couldn't ask because he hung up the call as soon as he made his message known. Luckily, he called directly today; other times, he had his secretary relay the message to me.

When I arrived at the house, I was escorted to his study. The cradle of our big ass mansion. It was a sanctuary for some, but hell for me. I remembered all the insults and beatings that went on in this place. A place deemed too much of a privilege, along with every other thing he did for his own daughter.

"Good day, Father," I said with my head bowed as soon as I stepped in.

He was seated on his throne like a desk chair, looking like the man he had always been. Cold, ruthless, and dominant. A classic bully in a shining suit.

He didn't waste time. "You'll be marrying in place of your sister. A business alliance. The groom is the head of a mafia family."

He said it just like that. Like I had no choice, or I didn't deserve to have a part in my own life. But I wasn't surprised; it had always been like this, and I just hoped that I would have the freedom to choose my love.

I opened my mouth to refuse, but then thought of Dante, the concert, and every bit of humiliation that I had suffered, and I had had enough. I had already made plans for my revenge, but Dante was never a part of it. Because I believe that we would have built a future together, but now everything has fallen apart.

"Fine," I said. "But I have terms."

DANTE'S POV

I don't know why I did it.

Maybe it was Lily leaning toward Ares, the stupid crowd chanting for them to kiss, or maybe it was the way she hesitated—like she was about to forget I even existed.

Before I knew it, I had pulled her back and kissed her in front of everyone. It wasn't about love; I had no such feelings for her. It was… impulse. And my image, Lily, had always been for me, and it was a well-known thing in our circle. For her to be with someone else was practically impossible.

Lily broke the kiss, and I looked down at her shy red face. Ares and the gang started hooting, and she buried her face in my chest as her cheeks went even redder.

I held her close, my head still swarming with the realization of what I had done, in public, that is, and then, out of the corner of my eye, the screen changed—and I froze in place.

Ravenna. Sitting in the crowd, her eyes trained directly at me. She was not alone, next to some man in a wheelchair, both of them were caught in the glow of the big screen.

For a split second, guilt hit me. She must have come to see me, to check if things between me and Lily had crossed a line. She was always worried. She cared too much and became paranoid.

I told myself I'd explain when I got home. She'd understand. She always did. Because no matter what, Ravenna loved me. She always forgave me.