Chapter 2

And so, the next day, we met at the most chaotic of underground boxing rings.

I was there to meet a business partner, sitting in the stands and sipping a whiskey.

He was there to handle some business at the docks, knocking back drinks with his brothers.

The important thing was, a timid little girl was trailing behind him.

In the midst of that bloody and violent place, she alone wore a pure white dress.

You could spot her in the crowd in a single glance.

Well-behaved and innocent, with a pair of bright, clear eyes.

I thought to myself, I could finally understand why Dante was so infatuated with her.

"What does a cigar taste like?" The girl said.

Dante took a drag from his cigar, not saying a word.

Instead, he gave her the answer with his actions.

Dante carefully kissed the little girl in his arms.

My fingers tapped lightly against the rim of my glass as I mentally counted my third drink.

The little girl coughed until her face turned red.

Laughter erupted all around them.

"Dante, don't you go corrupting our little angel."

"Hahaha!"

Dante stroked the corner of the little girl's lips, then pressed her flushed face against his chest.

"Aah, looks like Dante can't bear to let her go."

"Dante sure does treasure her."

Every one of his brothers was teasing him.

I downed the last of my drink, set the glass down upside down, and began to clap.

"A pure little thing on his arm out here, and a wild one waiting for him at home. Quite the life, isn't it?"

Marco, his back to me, got agitated.

He was the first to stand up, "Who the hell..."

He turned, saw me, and swallowed the words right on the tip of his tongue.

Every single one of them knew me. The moment they saw me, they all moved to the side.

And across from me, only Dante remained.

His hand was still caressing the young woman's waist.

Even after being caught by me, he didn't move an inch.

It was the young woman in his arms who panicked first.

She tried desperately to stand up several times, but he held her down each time.

"Ma'am, Ma'am..."

The young woman's eyes reddened with anxiety, tears falling one by one onto the back of Dante's hand.

Dante’s heart ached for her.

Then he looked at me reproachfully, his gaze accusing me of being the one who made her cry.

I ignored Dante.

The young woman lowered her head, scurrying behind Dante in fear.

"So, you know who I am."

Of course.

After all, who didn't know about the tumultuous history between Dante and me?

"Ma'am... Dante's just doing what he always does, trying to make you jealous. He loves you so much..."

I stared at Marco.Marco gradually lowered his head, his voice growing smaller and smaller.

Growing less and less confident.

I looked back at Dante. "Is that so?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What else?"

A few times before, Dante had indeed used unimportant people to deliberately provoke me.

He loved watching me get jealous and fly into a rage every time.

Loved seeing me get into fights with other women over him.

And he especially loved it when I was unforgiving, crying and making a scene.

I went crazy, and I made scenes.

I was unreasonable, too.

But I also knew the difference between an act and what was real.

Whether he was just provoking me, or if he’d genuinely been moved by compassion.

Dante himself probably didn't even know.

"Weren't you supposed to be meeting a business partner? What are you doing here?"

"What is this, an interrogation? Uncle."

Dante downed his whiskey in one gulp, his eyes fixed on me, refusing to let go.

Just as we were locked in our standoff, a delicate voice spoke up.

"You can't drink anymore."

Dante hated it most when people told him whether or not he could drink.

And yet, he listened and put down his glass.

I didn't know if he was doing it on purpose to provoke me.

Dante raised an eyebrow at me.