Chapter 4

Dante

I didn’t expect my first day at this hospital to come with such a punch of irony.

Life had a funny way of throwing me straight into the mess I’d been watching from the sidelines for years. I stood at the nurses’ station, flipping through a patient file, when a familiar voice drifted across the corridor. I would’ve recognized it anywhere.

Adrian.

I looked up, and there he was. My old high school friend—or maybe I should say the boy I once envied, the one who got the girl I wanted.

He hadn’t changed much. Same arrogant walk, same self-satisfied smirk. But if you looked closer, the years had chipped away at him.

His shoulders sagged just slightly, his eyes restless, like someone carrying weight he couldn’t set down.

I wasn’t planning to speak. Honestly, I’d imagined our reunion differently, maybe at a funeral, where I could at least pretend sympathy. But fate had other plans.

“Adrian.” I said his name calmly, though inside I was gauging his every move.

His head snapped up. For a second, recognition didn’t register.

Then it did. His lips curled into a faint smile. “Dante? Wow, man. It’s been ages.”

Ages, indeed. Ages since he walked away with Hazel, the girl who should’ve been mine. Ages since I forced myself to smile and play the good friend while my chest hollowed out.

I gave a short nod. “Yeah. It's been a long time.”

We exchanged the usual pleasantries, but I wasn’t here for nostalgia. I leaned in slightly, dropping my tone. “Tell me something, Adrian. Did you ever look at that report… the one your mistress gave you?”

His brows furrowed instantly, confusion flickering across his face. He opened his mouth, maybe to deny, maybe to lie. I wouldn’t know, because before the words could come out, she appeared.

The mistress.

She walked in like she owned him, her arm snaking around his as if staking her claim. She leaned close, her perfume thick, cloying, choking the air.

“Adrian, you didn’t tell me we had visitors,” she said in that high-pitched tone that scraped on my nerves.

Her gaze flicked to me, curious and suspicious, before she tightened her hold on him. “And who is this?”

I leaned back against a wall, folding my arms across my chest, deliberately calm. I wanted to hear what he would say. Would he acknowledge me? Admit who I was?

Adrian cleared his throat, his jaw tightening just a fraction. Then, with a shake of his head, he muttered, “Nobody. He's just… nobody important.”

I almost laughed.

Nobody.

That’s what I was to him? That’s fine. Being “nobody” has its perks I guess.

The mistress giggled and leaned closer to him, whispering something that was meant to be private but loud enough for me to hear. Something about getting lunch together. I resisted the urge to scoff. Clingy didn’t even begin to cover it.

Adrian gave me one last look, uneasy, before he let her drag him out.

The door shut behind them, and I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

My lips curved into the faintest smile. If he thought brushing me off as a nobody would protect him, then he really hadn’t learned anything over the years.

He’d walked into her trap, blindfolded, and I wasn’t about to stop him.

No, I’d let him drown in his own choices.

But Hazel—she didn’t deserve to go down with him. She had suffered enough, and I’d waited long enough.

Back in high school, I never said it out loud. Hazel was too bright, too sweet, too loyal to ever look my way when her heart was already set on him. And honestly, who could blame her? He saved her once, and she clung to that like it meant forever.

She was free now, finally free of that cage he’d built around her. This was my chance.

I rose from my seat, grabbing my coat. If Adrian wanted to play house with his mistress, let him. It gave me all the room in the world to take my place—the one I should’ve had all along.

Hazel. My Hazel.

I wasn’t going to stand by anymore.

I wasn’t sure what I expected when I showed up at the Ross estate that afternoon, but it certainly wasn’t the sight of her stumbling into the living room looking like she had wrestled a storm and lost.

Hazel’s hair was a wild mess, sticking out in directions I didn’t even know were possible, and her clothes, God, her clothes looked like they had been thrown on in complete darkness.

For a moment, I just stood there, frozen between concern and amusement. Then it hit me, and I laughed. Not a polite chuckle, not a restrained smirk—the kind of laugh that ripped out of me before I could stop it.

She froze mid-step, blinking at me as if I had sprouted horns. “What’s so funny?” she snapped, glaring at me, though the effect was ruined by the fact that she had a streak of what looked like flour—or was it dust?—smudged across her cheek.

“You,” I said honestly, leaning back in my chair, one hand pressed to my mouth as I tried to hold myself together. “You look like a runaway toddler who raided a closet.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

Even her indignation was adorable. Hazel Ross, the girl who used to be untouchable in my eyes, standing in front of me looking like an overgrown baby throwing a tantrum. I grinned wider, watching the flush creep up her cheeks.

Before she could bite back, her grandfather chuckled and came to her defense—or maybe to mine. “Hazel, darling, you really do look a little… undone. At least brush your hair.”

I bit my tongue before another laugh escaped. She shot me a withering look and crossed her arms. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company,” she muttered, clearly embarrassed.

Company.

She still didn’t recognize me.

That sting I’d felt in the hospital flared again, but I pushed it down. It wasn’t her fault though time changes people. And besides, I had no intention of letting her slip past me this time.

“Hazel,” her grandfather said warmly, placing a hand on her shoulder, “this is Dante. An old… friend.”

She turned her eyes on me properly then, sizing me up. I saw no flicker of recognition, only polite indifference. “Right,” she said. “Nice to meet you. Again, apparently.”

I leaned forward, meeting her gaze with a slow, teasing smile. “Oh, trust me, Hazel. It’s nice to meet you again, too.”

She huffed and turned to her Grandpa. “Grandpa, I need to go out with one of my brothers. I’ll be quick.”

The old man raised a brow. “Just like that? You haven’t even washed up.”

She waved him off. “I don’t care.”

I couldn’t help but laugh under my breath. There was something endearing about her stubbornness, even in her messiness, she had this fire that I’d always admired. “I’ll drive you,” I offered smoothly, reaching for my car keys on the table.

Her head whipped toward me again, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “No, thanks. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Not a babysitter,” I countered, stepping closer just enough for her to hear the warmth in my tone. “A chauffeur. Big difference.”

She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might stay that way. “I’ll pass.”

And just like that, she stormed off, dragging her paint-splattered shirt and her attitude with her. Moments later, she was out the door with her brother, laughing at something he said as if she hadn’t just dismissed me.

I exhaled slowly, watching her go. I could feel Grandpa’s knowing gaze on me, but I didn’t care. Let her play stubborn. Let her run. She had no idea that I’d been waiting all these years, watching her walk through hell. And now that she is finally out…

It was my turn.