Crimson Secret

The night deepened as they worked in silence, Dante hunched over his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration, while Alessia stood nearby, her arms crossed, mind racing. A map of the city lay spread out before them, dotted with red markers indicating Victor’s known hideouts and Sergei’s strongholds. Yet for all the strategy laid out on paper, the real battlefield was unfolding inside their minds.

Alessia kept her eyes on Dante, watching the way his jaw clenched as he traced a route across the city. His focus was absolute, but she knew that somewhere beneath that hard exterior, he was still reeling. I’ve put him in an impossible position, she thought, guilt settling like a stone in her chest. Every time Victor’s name came up, the tension between them thickened, and the silence grew more oppressive.

But Dante hadn’t walked away. That counted for something. He’s still here.

Dante’s thoughts were a whirlwind of calculations, routes, and contingency plans. But no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on logistics, his mind kept circling back to Alessia. She stood a few feet from him, quiet but present, and that quiet unnerved him. It was like she was waiting for something—for him to lash out again, to push her away for good. And maybe she was right to expect it.

Because part of him wanted to.

She hid so much. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Victor had nearly destroyed them tonight, not with bullets, but with words, with the truth Alessia had kept from him. And that betrayal—whether she meant it as a betrayal or not—had cut him deeper than any physical wound.

Yet, even as his anger simmered, something else burned just beneath it—something far more dangerous. I can’t let her go.

Every time his eyes flicked to her, standing there in the shadows of the room, he was reminded of just how deeply she had worked her way into his life. Into him. And that was the real problem, wasn’t it? He didn’t want her to leave. Even after everything, he needed her close. But how could he trust her again?

“I’ll take the north side,” Alessia’s voice cut through his thoughts, snapping his attention back to the present. She stepped closer, leaning over the map, her finger tracing a route along the city’s industrial docks. “Victor’s men are likely still watching the east, but if I go in from the north, I can slip through.”

Dante’s eyes followed her hand, but he wasn’t really listening. His mind was still tangled in the knot of emotions Alessia had created inside him. I want to trust you, he thought, his jaw tightening. But how do I know you won’t betray me again?

He watched her carefully, looking for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of uncertainty. But Alessia’s face was a mask of calm resolve. She had always been good at hiding her emotions, at burying her vulnerabilities behind a wall of cold, calculated efficiency. And that was what unnerved him the most. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen the real you.

Alessia felt the weight of Dante’s gaze on her, but she didn’t turn to meet it. She couldn’t. Not yet. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words, and she could feel the tension radiating off him like heat. He’s still angry. Still doubting me. And she couldn’t blame him. If their roles were reversed, she would have doubted him too. But the longer the silence dragged on, the more her own fears began to surface.

What if this was the beginning of the end? What if Victor had succeeded in breaking them apart, even without lifting a finger?

She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to focus on the mission. Marco first. We find him, we deal with Victor, and then we’ll talk. The rest would have to wait. It was the only way to keep moving forward.

“I know the layout,” Alessia continued, her voice steady, though her heart raced. “I’ll get in quietly. No one will know I’m there.”

Dante’s silence stretched, his fingers drumming against the edge of the desk. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that they could still work as a team, that she wouldn’t betray him again. But the trust between them was fractured, and no amount of tactical precision could fix that.

Finally, Dante spoke, his voice low, controlled. “You don’t go alone.”

Alessia blinked, her head snapping up to meet his gaze. “You don’t trust me to handle this?”

“It’s not about that,” Dante said, though even as the words left his mouth, he knew they weren’t entirely true. “This isn’t a one-person job. Victor’s playing a larger game, and if you walk into his trap, I won’t be able to get you out in time.”

He could see the flicker of frustration in her eyes, but she swallowed it down, her face hardening into the mask she always wore when she was about to argue. “I know Victor. I know his tricks. I’m the best chance you have at getting close.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

Alessia froze, his words hitting harder than she expected. He doesn’t trust me. She had known it was coming, had felt the crack forming ever since the warehouse, but hearing it out loud stung. “Dante—”

“I can’t risk you getting in deeper with him,” Dante said, his voice rough with emotion he hadn’t meant to reveal. “I can’t risk you being pulled back into whatever hold he had over you before.”

Alessia’s heart skipped a beat. He thinks I’ll go back to Victor. The realization sent a wave of shock and pain through her, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. Did Dante really believe that after everything they’d been through? After all the battles they had fought side by side, after all the walls she had broken down for him?

She stepped closer, her voice tight with frustration and hurt. “You think I’m going to betray you like that?”

“I don’t know,” Dante shot back, his voice rising. “I don’t know what to think anymore. Victor clearly still has power over you, and that terrifies me, Alessia. He’s using you, and I don’t know if you even see it.”

His words cut deep, and for a moment, Alessia’s composure cracked. “You’re wrong,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion she had been trying to hold back. “Victor doesn’t have power over me anymore. I left him because I knew what he was, and I’ve spent every day since trying to prove that I’m not that person anymore.”

Dante turned to face her fully, his dark eyes flashing with anger and something else—something more vulnerable. “Then why didn’t you tell me about him? Why did you keep it hidden?”

Alessia’s chest tightened, her hands clenching at her sides. “Because I was afraid. I was afraid you’d see me the way he does—as someone who can’t be trusted. Someone who will always be tied to that world, no matter how far I try to run from it.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Dante stared at her, his mind reeling. Her words hit him like a blow, forcing him to confront his own fears. Is that what I’ve been doing? Seeing her through the lens of Victor’s manipulation? Was he punishing her for something that wasn’t even her fault?

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair as he tried to regain control of his spiraling thoughts. This is what Victor wants. He wants us fractured, doubting each other. And Dante was playing right into his hands.

Dante looked at Alessia, the anger in his eyes softening into something more complicated—something that scared him even more than the anger. “I don’t want to see you that way,” he admitted, his voice low, rough. “But I’m scared, Alessia. I’m scared that this thing between us... it’s going to destroy me.”

Alessia’s breath caught, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his words. This was the Dante she had glimpsed only a few times—the man beneath the layers of power and control. The man who was afraid of letting anyone in, because he had already lost too much.

She stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “It doesn’t have to destroy you, Dante. We’re stronger together. But you have to trust me.”

For a long moment, Dante said nothing. He looked at her, really looked at her, and in her eyes, he saw the truth. She wasn’t lying. She wasn’t manipulating him. She was as caught in this storm as he was, and she was fighting to hold onto what they had.

Finally, Dante nodded, his voice quiet but resolute. “We’ll do this together. No more secrets.”

Alessia’s shoulders sagged with relief, the tension that had been building between them easing, if only slightly. “No more secrets,” she agreed.

But even as they stood there, a fragile understanding between them, Alessia couldn’t shake the feeling that something darker was still lurking just out of reach. Victor was playing a dangerous game, and if they weren’t careful, he would tear them apart.

And this time, it wouldn’t be just their trust at stake. It would be their lives.