Where the White Lilies Bled

My boyfriend, Dante, Don of Chicago’s Moretti family, sequestered himself for seven days in a Las Vegas presidential suite, all to protect Scarlett—the daughter of an allied Don.

When he returned on the eighth day, reeking of another woman's perfume, he knelt before me. His eyes were bloodshot as he pressed a gun to his own head.

"Isabella, I lost control. I broke my promise. I deserve to die."

He pulled the trigger without hesitation. The bullet whizzed past his temple, shattering the whiskey glass on the table beside him.

Watching the man I loved put a gun to his own head, a tremor ran through me. My heart shattered. But in the end, I forgave him.

Nine months later, at our wedding, a heavily pregnant Scarlett had a breakdown, threatening to jump from the nineteenth-floor balcony.

He knelt at my feet once more, gun in hand again.

"Isabella, let me go save her. Just this one last time."

"I swear, I'll cut all ties with her after this."

After a decade of devotion, he assumed I would forgive him—just as I had countless times before.

But I spoke calmly.

"Choose. Her, or me."

"Choose her, and we're done. For good."

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1

"Isabella, I know I was wrong. But that baby... it's the key to the truce between our families. This is on me."

"I can't just abandon her..."

Dante knelt, but his pleading did nothing to dull the sharpness in his eyes.

Those arrogant eyes were now bloodshot with worry for another woman.

I stood there in silence, my heart a barren, frozen wasteland.

"Isabella, you're not really going to let the Don pull the trigger, are you?"

"The Don nearly died in a gunfight for you. He's had eyes only for you for ten years. Isn't that enough?"

"I'd have thought the Falcone family's Principessa would know her place better. She shouldn't let the Don's favor go to her head."

Dante's Capo, Marco, sneered from the side.

A roar filled my head, my mind snagging on that one word: Principessa.

My eyes stung. A sharp pain lanced through my chest.

I stared down at Dante, my mind flashing back to the night ten years ago when my own family was wiped out in a feud.

Dante, then just a Soldato on his first mission, had held me tight, whispering the words like a prayer.

"Isabella, don't be afraid."

"I'll protect you, even if it costs me my life."

That night, a bullet tore through his left shoulder, but he never once showed a hint of regret.

Now, the memory of that firefight burned behind my eyes, but the man who had promised me a lifetime of protection was gone.

"Isabella, let me go!"

"I'm cashing this in. For your forgiveness. Just this once."

Dante pulled a ring from his pocket, one engraved with the family crest. I knew it all too well.

The tears I'd been holding back finally fell.

"Dante, are you sure? You want to trade this for a chance to save Scarlett?"

I snatched the ring with one hand and the gun from his grasp with the other. My own hand trembled as I pressed the barrel to his temple, my voice low and tight.

Three years ago, Dante had officially taken over the family from his father, becoming the Don.

That ring was the ultimate symbol of power for the Moretti family.

The day he put it on, he'd smiled and joked that if he ever truly angered me, he could use the Don's ring to trade for my forgiveness, just once.

I never imagined he would cash in that favor to save Scarlett.

I stared at him, my heart twisting in agony.

The next second, one of his men shouted in panic.

"Don, we have a situation!"

"It's Miss Scarlett—she went over the balcony!"

The kneeling Dante shot to his feet, his face a mask of furious panic.

"Isabella, it's just a ring! Do you have to be so damn dramatic?"

He ripped the gun from my hand, a cold, mocking sneer on his lips.

"Fine. You want a show? I'll give you one."

Bang!

He pulled the trigger, aiming at his own right arm. The bullet tore through muscle.

Blood gushed from the wound, spattering the white lily petals on the floor in a garish stain.

"Are you satisfied now?" he growled, glaring at me. "If you are, then wait here. I'll be back to finish our wedding."

With that, Dante tossed the gun aside and turned, leaving without a backward glance.

The wedding hall, filled with the scent of white lilies, felt utterly empty.

I stood there in silence, then pulled out my phone and dialed an encrypted number.