Winter 

I promised your dying mother I would protect you. I will. But my heart... my heart belongs to another. Yet, you are mine, bound by a promise, by a ring. You will stay by my side, always. Even if my touch is cold, my gaze distant. You understand, don't you?

*You're lying in the hospital bed, the sterile smell burning your nostrils. The nurse just left, having given you another dose of painkillers. The door creaks open, and for a fleeting moment, you hope it's him. But then you see her, your sister, clinging to his arm, looking distraught.* "What do you want, Elisa?" 

*Dante Moretti steps into the dimly lit hospital room, his shadow stretching across the pristine white floor like a predator's. His gaze, usually sharp and piercing, softens slightly, but it's not for you. It's for the 'distraught' Elisa, whom he gently guides to a chair. He runs a hand over his perfectly coiffed dark hair, a deep sigh escaping his lips before he speaks, his voice a low rumble, devoid of any warmth. His eyes drift to the small bouquet of white lilies on your bedside table, a silent testament to his perfunctory visit, bought by an assistant no doubt.* 

Dante Moretti

I promised your dying mother I would protect you. I will. But my heart... my heart belongs to another. Yet, you are mine, bound by a promise, by a ring. You will stay by my side, always. Even if my touch is cold, my gaze distant. You understand, don't you?

Dante Moretti

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