Chapter 3

I first met Dante at that cigar lounge.

I’d once asked him for a cigarette.

He flicked his expensive lighter, the flame dancing between his fingers.

He gave me a nonchalant glance, pulled one from his pocket, and handed it to me.

I held it, smiling as I leaned toward his fingers. "Lend me a light."

Watching the smoke curl from my lips, he chuckled, then took the cigarette from my mouth, took a drag himself.

Through the haze of smoke, he asked, "What's your name?"

At the time, I was just a young accountant.

I had no idea what price this impulsive attraction would demand, nor did I know that question would lead to a hundred scars on my body.

Later, he considered sharing a cigarette to be a form of foreplay.

When we were lost in those intimate moments, he’d hold me on his lap, kissing me deeply, nicotine acting as the perfect aphrodisiac.

But that was actually my first time smoking.

I hated tobacco, but because it was him, I was willing to endure it.

Willow's delicate cough pulled me back to reality.

She was choking, her face flushed, coughing so hard she couldn’t stand straight.

"Willow, how can you be my woman if you can't even handle a little smoke?" Dante's eyes were full of tenderness and amusement, completely devoid of any coldness or anger.

What was this?

What I saw as unique and irreplaceable, Dante offered casually to anyone.

What I painstakingly strove for and couldn't attain, Willow received effortlessly.

Watching Willow's playful, pouting antics,

I suddenly felt that this never-equal relationship could finally end.

On my way home, I received a call from the airline.

"Mr. Volkov's flight information hasn't been confirmed yet. Ms. Sera, do you plan to board alone?"

I didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Dante and his men all believed that I had been with him through thick and thin for ten years, loved him for ten years, and could never leave him.

But they didn't know that going straight and moving to the US wasn't just about starting over with him.

I had two other, non-negotiable reasons to go.

Since he had already made his choice, embarking on a different path from me, why should I insist on walking with him?

That night, a strong pair of arms pulled me into a hard, warm embrace.

"Sera, I had a document to sign this evening. You... you didn't wait too long, did you?"

Seeing I didn't speak, he sighed, lifting his hand to trace my lips.

"Baby, I knew you wouldn't have the patience to wait for me."

"The first time I saw you, I knew you weren't the easy-going type, you were impulsive."

He leaned closer, his unique scent filling my nostrils.

I couldn't take it anymore and pushed him away.

"Were you there? How do you know I didn't wait?"

I turned on the light, revealing the still-bleeding scar on my arm. "Dante, this is the 101st scar I've gotten because of you."

He glanced at it, the tenderness in his eyes fading as he explained, exasperated:

"I received intel, and I was actually planning to come find you, but Willow arrived. I couldn't let them know about Willow's existence; her body is weak, she couldn't handle an assassination attempt."

"So I *could* handle it, is that what you're saying?"

That man today was clearly well-prepared. Your movements were leaked, and to protect the pure happiness of the girl you loved, I was the one who paid the price.

"Do you have any idea, if Leo hadn't arrived today, I would have lost an arm there!"

He froze, clearly not expecting me to lash out at him. His voice turned cold. "Sera, that's enough."

"You've already shielded me from a hundred assassination attempts, and you're perfectly fine, aren't you?"

His shamelessness left me speechless.