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Dante

It’s 3:30 AM. The relentless beating of my fists against the punching bag echoes through the empty gym. Earlier, all I could think about was coming here, hitting something until my hands bled or my shoulders gave out, whichever came first.

Now, even as sweat drips down my face and my knuckles throb, it’s not enough to drown out Sal’s words echoing in my skull.

She’s asking for you.

It’s like a siren’s call, a hook in my gut that I can’t shake loose.

I throw another punch, harder this time, feeling the impact reverberate up my arm. But the physical pain does nothing to quiet the storm in my head. Neither does the music blasting through my AirPods.

Not when every fiber of my being is screaming at me to go to her. To give her what she wants.

Me.

I step back from the bag, chest heaving, and run a hand through my sweat-soaked hair.

What happened tonight changes everything because she’s dead to the world she used to know and now alive in mine.

Addy has taken every part of me except for the part that truly matters. That I live by a certain moral code that I need her to be okay with. Heck, she has to be ready to live by it too. Addy can’t even stand to be near a gun, and she still hasn’t been told who she is.

My hand twitches with the need to wring Benjamin O’Shea’s neck for keeping his daughter in the dark about her true identity all this while. The rage bubbles up, hot and familiar. Although, as of tonight, Addy has stopped being an O’Shea.

From now on, she’s mine. And I don’t plan to hide anything from her.

Mind made up, I leave the gym, shower, and then change into a suit. I grab a couple of spare T-shirts for her.

I’m out the door, car keys in hand, and in a matter of minutes, the cool night air hits me like a welcome punch.

Sal was right after all. This night is only ending one way: with Addy wrapped around me.

The drive to the Fortress is a blur. The streets are empty, the city asleep, but my mind is wide awake. Every stoplight feels like an eternity, every mile stretching out before me like a goddamn marathon.

By the time I pull up to the side entrance of the Fortress, my heart is pounding. The gravel crunches beneath my tires as I park the car, the sound harsh in the stillness of the night.

And then I’m there. Standing right outside her door. My hand pauses on the knob when I hear it. A soft cry, muffled by the heavy door. And just like that, my heart breaks open for her. I twist the handle and the door swings open on silent hinges.

I lean on the door frame, rooted to the spot as the cadence of the pulse pounding in my ears completely drowns out the strains of heavy metal rock emanating from my AirPods. Because nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Addy’s grief.

Her desire.

Her guilt.

And her dark, desperate need for me