~Marcellus~

“I’m sorry, Marcellus. He had my daughter, Cassidy. I had to do it.”

The disheveled man, once my friend, knelt on dirt-stained ground, littered with cigarette butts.

After a long pursuit, we had cornered him in a grimy alleyway, yellowed posters rustling in the wind. 

He was begging for his life. I saw it in his eyes, that flicker of desperation, a last hope ignited by my silence.

A hope I extinguished like a candle.

The moment I drew my gun, the black barrel caught the sunlight, glinting dangerously.

His lips trembled, but he pressed them into a thin line—a poor attempt at bravery.

“Marcellus—”

Not “Don” he called out my name for the first time in year but I didn’t let him finish.

Bang!

A hole bloomed in the middle of his forehead. Blood trickled down his face as his wide, disbelieving eyes froze in death. He collapsed with a sickening thud.

“You should’ve told me, Dante.” I sighed, blowing out the faint trail of smoke. I tucked the gun back into the strap beneath my tailored blazer.

Turning, the click-clack of my shoes echoed through the alley. From the shadows, a man stepped forward.

“Don… what about his family. Should we…?” He drew a finger discreetly across his throat in a sliting motion.

“No.” I raised a gloved hand. “They’re still family. The Family will sponsor them.”

“Yes, Don.” He bowed, eyes cast to the ground, face tense with respect.

He slipped back into the darkness. Another figure emerged—Salvador.

“Toss his body to the wolves, Salvador. I’m sure they’re starving.” I rubbed my thumb and index finger together, pinching the white handkerchief by my breast pocket. 

I drew it out, cleaning the invisible stains on my gloved fingers. “No burial for traitors. Not even in death. Let this be a warning: this is the fate of those who betray the Rosetti Famiglia.”

Tossing the handkerchief over Dante’s eyes wide frozen eyes. A patch of scarlet blood swiftly bloomed the white handkerchief, a frown marred my face.

‘Dirty. Like every other thing.’

Tearing my gaze away, I walked forward.

At the alley’s edge, daylight spilled in—too bright, almost blinding. How could something be so brilliant yet so dark?

People passed by without pause, unaware of the execution that had just taken place.

I shoved my hands into my coat pockets. A chill crept in. One that had followed me since birth, clinging to me like a second skin.

Just then—

“Oof!”

Someone crashed into me, a scent of wildflowers and citrus—faint but fleeting—filling my nostrils before it vanished just as quickly.

A girl with flaming red hair staggered back.

“Sorry, mister! I’m really sorry!” she said, then darted off.

“Don!” Salvador stepped forward, on alert.

“Enough killing for one day, Salvador,” I muttered, downcast, ‘Anymore red would make the world too bright.’

He wisely retreated.

My coat fluttered behind me as I walked to the waiting car.

“Don.” The driver opened the door. I slid inside, and he shut it softly behind me.

****

Moments later.

“Stop here,” I said into the mic. The car halted.

Outside, the shrill laughter of children pierced the air. Music played cheerfully. The park.

I leaned back, leather pressing into my shoulders. 

Even that comforting scent couldn’t lift the weight pressing on me. Neither could the children’s laughter—it faded into background noise. White noise.

I opened the mini fridge and pulled out a chilled champagne bottle. Twisting the cap, I poured the pale gold liquid into a crystal glass. The air filled with the crisp scent of pear and oaked vanilla.

Swirling the drink, I took a sip. Cool on the throat. A bittersweet citrus-and-smoke aftertaste lingered.

I sighed.

“This damned world,” I muttered, my jaw tightening. Today marked not only the fall of Dante—my assistant, my friend—but also the loss of the last thing I considered pure.

This world is built on betrayal.

Greed.

I watched a man nervously leading a tiny bawling girl away, indifferent passersby giving way, moments after a frantic woman shouted something—perhaps the girl’s mother.

Evil.

My eyes drooped. And dirty.

I turned away from the view, toward the other window, the world grey and lifeless—the same old things repeating every single day.

Why shouldn’t this world just burn?

But just then—my world froze.

I saw her.

A young woman ran through the park, her red hair igniting in the sunlight, caught mid-motion like fire dancing in the wind. The golden rays of sunset kissed her skin. Her lips stretched in pure, open laughter.

I couldn’t hear her—but I knew. She was laughing from her soul.

She looked… carefree. Innocent. Untouched by the darkness of the world I’d come to know.

My brows drew together. How was that even possible?

I leaned forward intrigued. 

Too captivated to look away.

A strange feeling stirred in me as I watched her roll across the grass, laughing, while her German shepherd licked her face.

Something twisted.

The corners of my mouth tugged upward into a smile.

Naive. Unblemished. Unguarded.

All the things I, who had licked blood from blades, had never been.

Would it be so wrong… if I wanted to chain such a light to myself

Author’s Note

Hello there! Aria writing, thank you for taking you time to read this chapter. You won’t be disappointed. Updated every Thursdays by 8pm (utc 0). Now onto the next chapter!