Chapter 4: Unforgiving Tie

The streets of the city were eerily quiet in the aftermath of the gala disaster. A fragile peace had been shattered, and in its place, an unspoken war had begun to simmer beneath the surface. It wasn’t an all-out bloodbath—not yet—but both families had started moving their pieces on the chessboard. Old alliances were being tested, new strategies devised. The underworld was holding its breath, waiting for the next strike.

Dante Romano sat in the Romano estate’s grand dining hall, swirling a glass of bourbon in his hand. The weight of his father’s glare bore down on him, but he refused to react. The betrayal in Antonio Romano’s eyes was evident. The long, ornate table between them felt like a battlefield, where silence was as deadly as bullets.

“You let her live,” Antonio finally said, his voice calm but laced with danger.

Dante exhaled slowly. “It wasn’t the right time.”

Antonio slammed his fist on the table, rattling the silverware. “Every moment she breathes is another moment she could put a bullet in your skull! You’re hesitating, Dante. And hesitation is weakness.”

Dante’s fingers tightened around the glass, but he remained composed. “Aria Moretti is more than just a killer, Father. She’s a weapon. If we eliminate her, we might be severing a potential advantage.”

Antonio’s expression darkened. “You’re blinded by whatever foolish attachment you think you have. Love has no place in this war.”

Dante didn’t respond. He knew his father would never understand. But somewhere deep in his chest, he felt the truth tighten its grip around his heart—he didn’t want to kill Aria. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He had spent years training to be the perfect heir, to lead with ruthlessness and precision. But Aria was making him question things he had never allowed himself to before. In a world of predetermined destinies, she had become the one unpredictable factor.

---

Aria Moretti stood in the Moretti family’s underground training facility, fists wrapped in tape, sweat dripping down her brow. She had spent the last hour brutalizing a punching bag, trying to shake the turmoil in her chest. But no matter how hard she hit, the memory of Dante’s hands on her waist, the way he had pulled her behind him when the gunfire erupted, refused to leave her mind.

Luca leaned against the doorway, watching. “You’re distracted.”

Aria threw another punch, harder this time. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Luca countered, stepping closer. “You’re thinking about him.”

Aria’s eyes flashed. “I’m thinking about how to kill him.”

Luca tilted his head. “Are you?”

She said nothing.

He sighed. “Listen, Aria. The Morettis and the Romanos have been at war for generations. You don’t get to rewrite the rules because of whatever’s happening between you two.”

She turned away, breathing heavily. “I know what’s at stake, Luca.”

“Then prove it,” he said. “Because Dante Romano isn’t hesitating. And if you don’t end this first, he will.”

Aria knew Luca was right. If she didn’t find a way to silence the storm raging inside her, it would consume her whole. Yet, the moment she thought of pulling the trigger, something in her rebelled. The Morettis had conditioned her to be a machine, but Dante had forced her to remember she was still human.

---

The following night, Dante found himself on the rooftop of an old abandoned building that overlooked the city. The skyline stretched endlessly before him, neon lights flickering in the distance. His mind was restless, haunted by possibilities he couldn't afford to entertain.

“You look lost,” a familiar voice said behind him.

Dante turned sharply, reaching for his gun before he even registered who it was. Aria stood at the edge of the roof, her stance relaxed but alert, as if she was just as uncertain about this meeting as he was.

“I could have shot you,” he murmured, lowering his weapon but not putting it away.

“You still could,” she replied, stepping closer.

They stared at each other, the weight of their families, their pasts, their impending fates hanging in the air between them. The city roared below them, indifferent to their silent battle.

“Why are you here?” Dante asked finally.

Aria hesitated before answering. “Because I needed to know.”

“Know what?”

“If you’re really my enemy.”

Dante scoffed. “You already know the answer to that.”

“Do I?” Aria challenged, eyes dark and searching. “Because the way you looked at me that night, the way you hesitated… it wasn’t hate.”

Dante clenched his jaw. “That hesitation could get us both killed.”

Aria took another step forward. “Then maybe we should stop hesitating.”

The distance between them disappeared in an instant. Dante’s breath hitched as Aria’s fingers brushed against his, tentative, questioning. He knew he should step back, should remind himself of the blood feud that ran deeper than either of them, but he didn’t.

Instead, he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss that burned through every line they weren’t supposed to cross.

The city disappeared. The war disappeared. In that moment, there was only the two of them, tangled in something far more dangerous than rivalry—desire.

When they pulled away, Aria exhaled shakily. “We can’t do this.”

Dante smirked, though there was no humor in it. “We already have.”

She swallowed hard, stepping back. “Then we’ll have to make a choice soon.”

Dante nodded. “And when that time comes?”

Aria’s eyes darkened. “We’ll see who pulls the trigger first.”

Then she was gone, disappearing into the night like a ghost. Dante watched her go, his chest tightening. Because he knew, deep down, that if it ever came down to that moment—

He wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger.

---

The city burned in silence, the tension thick like a storm waiting to break. Neither Dante nor Aria knew when the next shot would be fired, only that it was inevitable. But with every step they took toward the battlefield, they both wondered the same thing—when the time came, would they be able to destroy each other?

The lines had been drawn, but the heart had a way of erasing them. And love, even in its most forbidden form, was the most unforgiving tie of all.

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To be continued.....

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