Garden of Roses ✔️

Chapter 38

Dante

My dear Dante,

I don't know where to even begin apologizing for my actions. So I won't do it at all. Instead, I will try to explain how everything I did somehow made sense in my head, even if, from your perspective, it didn't make sense at all.

First of all, I obviously didn't die along with my parents eighteen years ago. My father's head of security and his son got me out of there in time and took me to a safe house. Well, a safe bunker, I suppose, where I've been living this whole time.

Your father took everything from me. He killed my parents and took away my home.

For years, I've been accumulating this rage, this hate inside of me towards your family. It's basically what has driven me to become the so-called Regina del Sangue.

I wanted revenge. I wanted your father and every man that was involved to pay for what they did, but mainly your father. He died before I could get to him, and then you took his place. You had almost the same reputation as he did, so you became the second closest thing to getting my revenge.

You have to understand, all the stories I've heard about you made me believe that you became just like him and that the sweet boy I knew a long time ago was gone. I wanted to kill you at first. I admit that. In my mind, you were a replica of the man who took everything from me. So I wanted to hurt you.

But I was wrong. You are not the man I thought you would be. I wasn't expecting you to be so... well, you. And it took me some time to accept the fact that you're nothing like people say you are. Not really. I regret that it took me so long to see it. I guess it's hard to let go of a thought that you've based most of your life on.

First, you've shown me mercy. Then you've shown me hospitality, professionalism, and forgiveness. And then you've shown me kindness. I didn't understand it. Even though I didn't want to hurt you anymore ever since we were in the penthouse, I was still convinced that you wanted to hurt me.

The thought haunted me, and I was afraid of what was going to happen once we completed the mission and you didn't need us anymore.

The moments we had, our nonverbal understanding caused me to feel connected to you and trust you. But my mind still couldn't let go of that terrifying idea of you. I didn't want to let myself relax around you and feel the things that I felt.

When I woke up after the mission, something had changed. You've changed. You didn't try to hide your kindness from me anymore. You embraced it and nurtured me back to health. You cared about me when I refused to acknowledge the truth. And the truth was that I cared about you just as much.

Through the numerous conversations I had with Camilla, I began to get the idea of just how much you've suffered from your father's hand. Both literally and figuratively. You weren't his replica, but far from it. You were just one more of his victims, and it was yet another thing that connected us.

As time passed, I've completely let go of the image of you that I've created in my mind. Instead, the secret I've been holding on to became a problem. Every day that went by and I didn't tell you, my problem grew bigger.

My initial plan was to leave as soon as I was well enough like we agreed. We would never have to see each other again. But then we grew closer, and I knew it wouldn't be so simple to just leave and forget about everything that happened. By the time I realized that, it was already too late to just casually tell you. I knew that when you found out, you'd be hurt or angry or both and with every right.