A Miserable Love

The gunshot cracked through the greenhouse, the bullet shattering a pane of glass. Fragments scattered like icy rain, startling the dove in its cage and sending the villa’s serenity spiraling into chaos.

I froze, my breath catching. A tight knot of shock formed in my chest as I turned towards the commotion.

Through the window, I caught sight of a young girl.

Her pale brown hair fell into disarray as she combed her fingers through it with visible irritation. She wore frustration like a second skin, her brows furrowed in a petty scowl. Without a glance at the damage she’d caused, she dropped the rifle with an audible clatter, her lips moving in inaudible curses.

She sank onto one of the benches nestled between the plants, folding her arms.

If her aim had been true, she’d have killed the white dove in the cage. For no reason.

“Stellar,” I muttered under my breath, a mix of disbelief and exhaustion in my voice.

She was two years younger than me, the third-in-line of the Leone family—an infuriating rank that allowed her to play the reckless little tyrant. Above her was Kai Leone, and at the top of the hierarchy stood Saint Leone, the eldest and heir to the family’s empire.

The one lingering just behind me.

A scoff broke the silence as his grip on me slackened. I turned slightly, catching his face in the dim light.

Saint had grown into his sharp features—a jawline honed like a blade and eyes that seemed to see more than he let on. He was a far cry from the boy I had once liked.

“Leaving?” I asked softly, my voice steady.

He smirked, tilting his head as if amused. “Will you miss me that much?”

I said nothing, but his mouth widened and affectionate smile.

“I’ll be back,” he said casually, like a promise that meant nothing. His gaze flickered toward the dove’s cage. “I just need to retrieve that little bird you care so much about.”

I stiffened. “Do whatever you like. I don’t care about the dove.”

“Of course, you don’t,” he said with a low chuckle.

The air between us shifted, colder now, but not from the approaching winter.

“Winter’s coming soon,” he said, his tone lighter as if we were discussing something trivial. “Stay in the villa. Don’t wander too much. Rest in your room.”

His lips brushed my forehead—a gesture that should have been warm yet so cold.

I nodded, unable to look at him. His footsteps faded into the hall.

“Okay,” I whispered to no one.

My chest tightened, and before I could stop myself, tears spilled.

These days, I seem to be unhappy, don’t I?

———

Winter came quietly.

The first snow settled over the villa like a thin shroud, muffling the world outside. Frost crept along the window panes, turning the glass into a mosaic of ice.

I sat by the window, my knees pulled to my chest, watching the snowfall.

It was beautiful, but I didn’t feel it. All I could think about was how much longer I’d be trapped here.

Should I leave? Could I even organize a plan? The thought made me feel pathetic. The Leone family had taken me in when I was twelve. Back then, I had been so young, so desperate for protection that obedience had felt natural.

By fifteen, I’d been handed over like a toy—entitled to Saint. He cajoles me, making me feel like I have him under my palm, but at the same time, I feel like a puppet, manipulated by his likes.

Now, at eighteen, I realize it—he’s trained me too well.

I glance back at the window.

How much longer until winter ends—or until I find a way out?

Thud!

The door burst open, slamming into the wall with a force that rattled the room.

I shot up from the seat.

A young maiden was harshly thrown to the ground. A familiar confidant of mine and one of the cleaning ladies in charge of the villa.

"Eleanor!" I went to the young girl. She was coughing blood. "No... Eli, what happened?"

I knelt beside Eleanor, my heart pounding in my chest, the blood that stained her lips. Her mouth tried to open, but no words were able to come out; her complexion paled severely and showed signs of harsh beating.

"Eleanor," I whispered urgently, but her eyes were unfocused, a shallow breath escaping her as she struggled to speak.

I turned my head slowly, my eyes narrowing as I faced the person standing near the door.