**Rose's POV**
I throw the perfume bottle at the door the second it closes behind Dante.
It shatters. Glass flies everywhere. The smell of jasmine fills the room so thick I can barely breathe.
My hands shake. My whole body shakes.
He's marrying Celeste.
After everything that happened tonight. After saving me from bullets and fire. After bringing me here and keeping all my things like some lovesick fool.
He's marrying someone else.
I pace the room like a caged animal. Because that's what I am now. A prisoner in the place I once called home.
My foot kicks something under the bed.
I bend down and pull it out.
My old coffee mug. The one with the chipped handle. The last thing I used before I packed my bags and left six months ago.
Coffee still stains the bottom. Dried and brown and old.
He didn't even wash it.
Didn't throw it away.
Just left it exactly where I set it that final morning.
My chest feels too tight. Like someone's sitting on it. I can't stay in this room surrounded by ghosts of who I used to be.
I need to move. Need to do something before I scream.
The bathroom door stands open. I walk inside before I can stop myself.
My shampoo bottle sits on the shower shelf. The purple one that smells like lavender. More than half full because I left before I could finish it.
My toothbrush leans in the holder next to Dante's. The bristles are dry and old but he kept it anyway.
My face cream sits on the counter. My hair ties scattered near the sink. My bathrobe hangs on the hook behind the door.
Everything. Every single thing I left behind.
Still here. Still waiting.
Like he thought I'd walk back in one day and just pick up where we left off.
Anger burns through my sadness. How dare he keep all this? How dare he turn our bedroom into some sick museum while planning to marry another woman?
I storm back into the bedroom. My eyes land on a jacket draped over the chair in the corner.
Dante's jacket. The black leather one he wore on our honeymoon. The one I used to steal when I got cold.
I grab it. Start to throw it on the floor with the broken glass.
Something crinkles in the pocket.
I freeze.
Slowly, I reach inside and pull out a folded piece of paper. The edges are worn soft like it's been folded and unfolded a thousand times.
My hands tremble as I open it.
It's a photo. Our wedding day.
We stand outside the courthouse. I'm wearing a simple white dress I bought on sale. Dante's in a suit that probably cost more than my car. His arms wrap around me from behind. My head tilts back against his chest. Both of us smiling at whoever took the picture.
Luca probably. He's the only one who came with us that day.
We look happy. We look in love.
We look like people who had no idea how badly they were about to break each other.
I flip the photo over. More writing in Dante's messy handwriting covers the back.
*Day 1 - She said yes*
*Day 45 - First time she looked at me like she hated me*
*Day 89 - Stopped sleeping in our bed*
*Day 127 - She left*
*Day 183 - Still gone. Still breathing. That's enough.*
Today's date is scribbled at the bottom with shaky letters.
*Day 183 - She came back. Don't screw this up.*
The paper crumples in my fist. Tears pour down my face before I can stop them.
He's been carrying this photo for six months. Writing on it. Counting the days like a prisoner marking time on a cell wall.
But he's still marrying Celeste.
None of this makes sense.
I throw the photo on the bed and yank open the nightstand drawer. I don't know what I'm looking for. Answers maybe. Truth.
What I find makes my heart stop.
A folder. Thick and worn. My name written on the front in Dante's handwriting.
I pull it out with shaking hands and open it.
Photos spill everywhere.
Pictures of me. Hundreds of them.
Me at the grocery store. Me walking to work. Me sitting in the park reading a book. Me having coffee with Gentle. Me entering my apartment building.
Recent photos. From after I left.
He's been following me.
Watching me.
Making sure I was safe even after I walked away.
My hands shuffle through the pictures. Each one dated and marked with notes.
*Made her laugh. Haven't seen that smile in months.*
*Looks tired. Is she eating enough?*
*New job. She seems happy.*
*Saw her cry today. Wanted to kill whoever hurt her. Wanted to hold her. Did neither.*
I can't breathe. Can't think. This is crazy. This is obsessive.
This is love.
Twisted and broken and completely messed up love.
But love.
The door handle rattles.
I shove the photos back in the folder and slam the drawer shut. My heart pounds so loud I'm sure whoever's outside can hear it.
A key turns in the lock.
The door opens.
Dante walks in carrying a tray of food. He stops when he sees me. Sees my tear-stained face. Sees the broken perfume bottle on the floor. Sees the photo from his jacket lying on the bed.
His face goes pale.
"Rose—"
"Why?" My voice breaks. I hold up the photo. "Why torture yourself like this? Why keep all my things? Why follow me around taking pictures like some stalker?"
Dante sets the tray down carefully. His hands shake. "You went through my things."
"You kept MY things!" I wave my arm around the room. "You kept everything! My clothes. My books. My stupid toothbrush. You turned our bedroom into a shrine and then—" My voice cracks. "Then you plan to marry Celeste?"
"It's not what you think."
"Then explain it to me!" I throw the photo at him. It hits his chest and falls to the floor. "Make it make sense, Dante. Because right now, I think you're either crazy or cruel or both."
Dante picks up the photo. His thumb traces over our faces. "You want the truth?"
"I want something real for once."
He looks at me. Really looks. His eyes are red. When did that happen? Has he been crying?
"I kept everything because throwing it away would mean accepting you were really gone." His voice sounds rough. Raw. "Every morning I woke up in this bed alone. Every night I came home to an empty room. And I deserved it. I deserved all of it."
"That doesn't explain the photos."
"I couldn't stop checking on you." He runs his hand through his hair. "I needed to know you were safe. That you were okay. That leaving me didn't destroy you the way I thought it would."
"So you stalked me."
"I protected you!" His voice rises. Then drops. "Even when you hated me. Even when you wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn't stop making sure nothing bad happened to you."
"And Celeste?" I force the name out. "How does marrying her protect me?"
Dante's jaw clenches. "My father arranged it. The families need to unite. The Giordanos are getting stronger. We need the Marino alliance to survive."
"So you said yes." My heart shatters into a million pieces. "Just like that. You said yes."
"I haven't said anything yet." Dante steps closer. "I told my father I needed time."
"Time for what?" I back away. "Time to figure out how to marry her while keeping me as your dirty little secret?"
"Time to figure out how to tell him no!" Dante's voice echoes through the room. "Time to burn every bridge I have with my family if it means not losing you again!"
We both freeze.
The words hang in the air between us. Heavy. True. Terrifying.
"You can't tell him no," I whisper. "Your family is everything to you."
"No." Dante's voice cracks. Completely breaks. "You were everything to me. I just realized it too late."
He drops to his knees. Right there on the floor surrounded by broken glass and spilled perfume and all the pieces of our destroyed marriage.
"I can't marry her, Rose." Tears run down his face. "I can't marry anyone but you. Even if you hate me. Even if you never forgive me. You're the only one I want."
My whole body trembles. I've never seen Dante cry. Not once in three years of marriage.
"Then why—" My voice won't work right. "Why did you push me away?"
"Because loving you terrified me more than any bullet or blade." He looks up at me. "Because you made me soft. Made me weak. Made me human. And in my world, being human gets you killed."
"So you killed us instead."
"Yes." The word sounds like it hurts. "I killed the best thing that ever happened to me because I was too afraid and too stupid to fight for it."
The door slams open.
We both jump.
Luca bursts in. His face is white. Panicked.
"We have a problem." He's breathing hard like he ran here. "A big one."
Dante stands. Wipes his face. Back to being the cold enforcer in two seconds flat. "What happened?"
"Viktor." Luca looks at me. "Rose's brother just walked through the front gate."
My blood turns to ice. "That's impossible. Viktor doesn't know where—"
"He's not alone." Luca cuts me off. "He brought the Giordanos with him."