You Chose Her, Now Watch Me Disappear

Dante POV

The truth is a bullet. You don't hear it until it tears through you.

It was 3:00 AM. I was wandering the halls, a ghost in my own life. I ended up in the library.

My Consigliere, Leo, was waiting for me. He looked pale. He was holding a manila envelope.

"Boss," Leo said. "We need to talk."

"Not now, Leo. Unless you found Volkov."

"It's not Volkov. It's... it's a package. It was left at the gate. Anonymous."

He handed it to me.

There was no return address. Just a small, black USB drive inside.

I walked to my laptop and plugged it in.

A single audio file popped up.

I clicked play.

The sound of static filled the room. Then, a voice. A voice I knew.

"He's still obsessed with her, Nikolai. It's pathetic."

It was Sofia.

"Patience, little bird," Volkov's voice answered. "We stick to the plan. You get the Reaper to the docks. I take the Queen off the board. Then the grieving husband is all yours."

My blood turned to ice.

"Make sure she dies," Sofia said. Her voice was cold, calculating-stripped of the innocence she wore like a costume. "I don't want her wounded. I want her dead. She treats me like dirt. She thinks she owns him."

"Consider it done," Volkov said. "Just like with your brother."

I froze. My hand hovered over the laptop.

"Luca was necessary," Sofia said. "He was going to cut me off. He found out about the gambling debts. He was going to tell Dante. I had to give you his location."

The recording ended.

The silence that followed was heavier than the ocean that took my wife.

I stared at the screen.

Sofia.

Sofia, the innocent ward. Sofia, the fragile flower I burned down a city block to protect. Sofia, the reason I waterboarded my wife.

She sold Luca. She killed my best friend.

And then she colluded with the enemy to kill Elena.

I stood up. The chair toppled over behind me with a crash.

A sound tore out of me-a low, guttural growl that didn't sound human.

I walked to the window and looked out at the garden. I saw the guest house where Sofia was sleeping.

I remembered Elena's face in the dungeon. The water dripping from her hair.

I hate you, she had said.

She knew. She knew what Sofia was. She tried to warn me. She held a knife to Sofia's throat because she saw the monster beneath the skin.

And I shot her for it.

I tortured her for it.

And then I let her die for it.

"Leo," I said. My voice was dead calm.

"Yes, Boss."

"Wake the guards. Bring her to the cellar."

"Sofia?"

"No," I said, turning from the window. My eyes felt like they were burning in their sockets. "Not Sofia. Bring the rat."

I walked toward the door. I wasn't going to kill her. Death was too easy. Death was a mercy.

I was going to make her wish she had died in that ambush with her brother.

But as I walked down the hall, the rage was eclipsed by a crushing, suffocating weight.

I had sacrificed my Queen for a traitor.

I had broken my vows, my honor, and my heart for a lie.

And now, it was too late.