RENZO’S POV
I woke up with a splitting headache, the consequence of last night's drinking session. As my phone blared beside me, I winced and reached for it. The bright screen burned my eyes as I squinted to see who was calling.
“Hello?” I answered, my voice hoarse.
“Yo, Renzo, it's Gab. You up for a night out? It’s my threat! Dante’s in, and it’s been way too long since the squad got together. What do you say?”
My head pounded at the thought of more alcohol, but I could hear the excitement in Gab’s voice. He was right—we hadn’t hung out in a while, and despite my hangover, the idea of a night with the boys was tempting.
"Okay," I muttered, rubbing my temples as I sat up in bed. The room was still spinning slightly, remnants of last night's whiskey swirling in my system. Gab had a way of pulling me into these nights, but maybe it was what I needed—a distraction from the pressure building around me.
“Where are we meeting?” I asked, my voice rough.
Gab chuckled on the other end. “Same spot, The Elysium. Eight o’clock. And don’t bail on us this time, alright? We need a real night out.”
I sighed, feeling the weight of everything I’d been dealing with. The accusations, the investigations, and now Sam digging into every corner of my business. It was becoming too much, but I couldn’t let it show. Not to my friends, not to anyone.
“Yeah, fine,” I said, trying to shake off the lingering headache. “I’ll be there.”
Hanging up, I leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. Tonight was supposed to be a release, but I couldn’t help but feel the tension gnawing at the edges of my mind. Even as I prepared to drown my thoughts in alcohol and meaningless conversations, I knew that the storm I was facing wouldn’t be so easily ignored.
With a grunt, I pushed myself out of bed. It was going to be a long night.
I decided to skip work for the day and take some time to rest before heading to Elysium with the guys. My head was still pounding, but it wasn’t just the hangover that was weighing me down. Last night’s conversation with Victoria kept replaying in my mind, making things even more complicated.
She had brought up Sam, her usual cryptic warnings about trusting too much. But it wasn’t just that—she had mentioned her. Shayla. Hearing that name after all this time stirred up memories I’d tried to bury.
Shayla, the one I thought I’d moved on from, but maybe I hadn’t. Victoria knew how to dig under my skin, and bringing Shayla into the conversation was no accident. She had always known how to push the right buttons, making me question everything.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Sam, how close we’d gotten lately, and how she was nothing like Shayla. But still, the comparison lingered in the back of my mind. Was I making the same mistake again? Was I getting too close, letting her in when I knew how dangerous that could be?
I sighed and grabbed my phone, scrolling through my messages. Gab and Dante were ready for tonight, expecting me to show up. A part of me was looking forward to seeing them, hoping a night out could take my mind off things. But another part of me knew that no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the past had a way of creeping back in. And right now, it was doing just that.
As I lay back on the bed, I couldn't help but feel the weight of both my past and present pulling at me. Tonight, would be a distraction, but eventually, I’d have to face the truth about what Victoria had said—and what it all meant for Sam.
That evening, I finally made my way to Elysium. The pounding music and the chatter of people filled the air as soon as I stepped inside. The place was packed, just like it always was, but I had gotten used to the noise, the flashing lights, and the endless stream of faces. My eyes scanned the crowd until I spotted Gab and the others, already settled in a booth near the back.
As soon as I stepped closer, the noise level spiked. Gab, ever the loud one, called out as soon as he saw me. “There he is! The man of the hour!”
The rest of the guys were already laughing, drinks in hand, but Dante... he was different. I noticed him immediately—quiet, sitting there with a glass of whiskey, barely paying attention to the chaos around him. His eyes flicked toward me as I reached the table, but he didn’t say anything. Just a slight nod, acknowledging my presence.
I slid into the booth next to Gab, taking the glass he handed me. "Let’s get this started," I muttered, forcing a smile even though my mind was still distracted. Victoria’s words from last night lingered in my head, and seeing Dante like that only made me more uneasy. He wasn’t usually the silent type, not with the guys. Something was off.
Gab, oblivious to the tension, slapped me on the back. "Tonight’s on me, bro. Let’s forget about all that business crap for a while and have some fun."
I raised my glass to him, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wasn’t going to be as carefree as Gab hoped. Dante’s silence told me there was something more going on—something we hadn’t talked about yet.
The night continued, the atmosphere in the bar light but charged with an undercurrent of tension I couldn't shake off. Gab’s laughter echoed, his teasing bringing a fleeting smirk to my lips, but my mind was elsewhere—on Dante and his quiet demeanor. Gab and Justin’s playful jabs weren't helping.
"You're awfully quiet, Dante," Gab teased, his tone light but probing. "Do you have a love life now, is that why you're so deep in thought?"
I glanced at Dante, studying him closely. Something was off. The subtle way he kept looking down at his phone every now and then, as if expecting a message. My grip tightened on my glass. Could it be Sam? The thought irritated me more than I wanted to admit. "Yeah, he's been like that for a while, bro," Justin chimed in.  "It's like he's looking for something on his phone. Spill it, dude. You must be hiding something!"
Before Dante could respond, his phone buzzed on the table. My eyes immediately darted to the screen, catching a glimpse of the name that sent a sharp pang of jealousy through me—Sam. It was like a punch to the gut, the irritation bubbling beneath the surface as I clenched my jaw.
Dante quickly picked up his phone, tapping out a reply with a nonchalant shrug as if he hadn’t just stirred up a storm inside me.
“Work stuff,” he muttered under his breath, but I wasn’t convinced. I had seen the name. I knew. But saying anything would just confirm that the jealousy gnawing at me was real.
Justin, of course, couldn’t resist another jab. “Are you serious, bro? Really, work? You’re not fooling us with that!” he laughed, giving Dante a slap on the back.
I forced a smile, pretending to laugh along with them, but my mind raced. I had tried to push these thoughts away, tried to convince myself that Dante wouldn’t cross that line with Sam. He was my friend, after all. But the doubt… the doubt was eating away at me.
As the night wore on, I found myself retreating further into my thoughts, the noise of the bar fading into the background. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to deal with more messages, more stress. The weight of everything—work, Sam, and now Dante—was pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.
I glanced over at Dante again. He was laughing at something Gab said, his phone lying face down on the table. But I knew, the moment it buzzed again, he’d be back to checking it—back to messaging her.
I downed the rest of my drink and set the glass down with a little too much force. The clink echoed louder than it should have, drawing Gab’s curious glance. My irritation simmered, but I kept my voice calm, controlled.
“Maybe you're dealing with a different kind of work?” I said, my tone light but sharp enough to cut through the noise of the bar. I locked eyes with Dante, letting my stare linger. He paused, his laughter fading, and for a split second, something flickered in his eyes—maybe guilt, maybe understanding. He knew exactly what I was implying.
Gab and Justin had missed the tension, too busy in their own conversation, but Dante… Dante knew exactly what I meant. Slowly, he sat back, his expression neutral, but I could see the gears turning in his head. He wasn’t going to admit anything—not outright—but there was no denying the shift in the air between us.
“What are you trying to say, Renzo?” Dante asked, keeping his tone casual, though his gaze didn’t waver from mine. It was a challenge—a silent test of how far I was willing to push this.
I shrugged, leaning back in my chair as if I wasn’t already two steps ahead in this game. “Nothing. Just making sure you’re focused on the right things, that’s all.”
He scoffed, a forced chuckle escaping him. “You think I’m not? Come on, man. We’ve got too much going on to be distracted.”
“Exactly,” I said, my voice lowering. “So, let’s keep it that way.”
His phone buzzed again. Just as I expected. This time, Dante didn’t reach for it. He let it sit there on the table, the screen lighting up briefly before going dark again. He was testing me now, seeing how far he could push before I broke.
I wasn’t going to break. Not here, not tonight. But the frustration was already building, a slow burn that was threatening to erupt if this continued. Sam wasn’t just another woman, and if Dante had feelings for her… no, I couldn’t even let myself go there.
Gab, oblivious to the tension between us, leaned over, trying to diffuse the growing heat. “Uh, guys, chill, okay? We’re here to have fun and enjoy ourselves, right?” His voice was light, but there was a clear hint of uncertainty. He could feel it—the brewing storm between Dante and me.
“Gab’s right, chill out, guys,” Justin added, trying to lighten the mood. He laughed awkwardly, glancing between us, but the tension wasn’t so easy to shake off.
I straightened up, forcing a calm expression, and took a long sip of the last of my drink. The burn of the alcohol didn’t ease the storm raging inside me, but I wasn’t going to explode. Not here. Not now.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice smooth, but my eyes locked on Dante. There was no more hiding, no more subtle glances or careful words. If he thought he could keep this up without consequences, he was wrong. “Maybe Dante’s the one who’s not okay, since he’s been texting someone else... and that someone happens to be my girlfriend.”
I kept my tone even, my expression controlled, but the weight of those words hung heavy in the air. Silence fell across the table, the shock hitting them like a tidal wave.
Gab’s eyes widened in disbelief; his face frozen in confusion. Justin sat back, blinking rapidly as if trying to make sense of what I just said. But it was Dante I watched closely—waiting for his reaction, waiting for him to deny it, to defend himself, or to confirm what I already knew deep down.
Dante’s face remained unreadable, though I could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes before he quickly masked it. He glanced at his phone, still face down on the table, as if it was suddenly the most incriminating piece of evidence in the room.
“Renzo…” he started, his voice low, controlled, but there was an edge to it, like he was treading carefully. “You really think I’d do that? That I’d go behind your back?”
I didn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch. My gaze bore into him, daring him to keep playing this game. “You tell me, Dante. Because from where I’m sitting, it sure looks like you’re hiding something.”
Justin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking between us like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what. Gab, on the other hand, was still frozen, processing what I had just thrown out in the open.
Dante leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine with a mix of frustration and something else—something darker. “I’m not hiding anything. You’re making this into something it’s not.”
I could feel the anger rising again, threatening to spill over, but I held it back. “Then tell me why you’ve been texting her. Tell me why it’s her name I see lighting up your phone.”
Dante chuckled, a sharp, bitter sound that grated against my already fraying nerves. “Why... why are you acting like this? Didn’t you want this?” His voice hardened, the playful mask dropping as he leaned forward, eyes locking onto mine. “You left Sam on the street and never went back for her. And now you’re acting like this?”
His words hit harder than I expected. The truth of it stung in a way I hadn’t anticipated. He wasn’t wrong—there was a part of me that had walked away from Sam, convinced it was for the best, convinced that keeping my distance would protect her from the darkness of my world. But hearing Dante say it out loud, twisting it into something accusatory, made my blood boil.
I clenched my fists under the table, the words caught in my throat. I couldn’t deny what he was saying, but that didn’t change the fact that he was the one texting her, he was the one crossing lines he had no business crossing.
“That’s different,” I growled, my voice low, barely containing the anger. “What I did was to keep her safe. You’re just…” I trailed off, not wanting to say the words, not wanting to admit that Dante might have feelings for her, too.
But he saw it. He saw the accusation in my eyes, and instead of backing down, he pushed further.
“Safe?” Dante scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a bitter laugh. “You think leaving her alone makes her safe? You really believe that, Renzo? Because from where I’m standing, it just looks like you abandoned her, left her to deal with everything on her own. And now you’re surprised she might need someone else?”
His words were like a knife twisting deeper, cutting through the thin layer of control I had left. I slammed my hand down on the table, the sound reverberating through the bar, drawing the attention of everyone around us.
“You’re out of line,” I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper, but every word dripped with fury. “This isn’t about what I did. This is about you. About what you’re doing behind my back.”
Dante didn’t flinch. He just stared at me, his expression calm, like he wasn’t the least bit fazed by my anger. “Maybe you should ask yourself why she hasn’t come back to you, Renzo. Maybe you should think about why she’s even talking to me in the first place.”
That did it. The dam I had been holding back finally broke, and I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor as I glared down at him.
“She’s my girlfriend, Dante,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “And you better remember that.”
Dante let out a bitter laugh, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Girlfriend? But you're hurting her just because of your damn reason! You didn’t even let her explain herself to you!” His voice rose, anger spilling into every word. He stood up, fists clenched, glaring at me with fury in his eyes. “What kind of boyfriend are you, huh?!”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. The rage I had been trying to control snapped, and before I knew it, I was on my feet, my hand gripping the front of his shirt, yanking him closer. “Don’t you dare question what kind of boyfriend I am because you don’t know anything,” I growled, my voice low but filled with venom. My grip tightened on his shirt as I pulled him even closer, our faces just inches apart.
Justin and Gab rushed to intervene, grabbing at my arms, trying to pull me back, but I wasn’t letting go. Not this time. My blood was boiling, and all I could think about was the betrayal—how my friend could stand here and accuse me of being the problem when he was the one crossing the line.
“Renzo, chill!” Justin’s voice sounded far away, his hand pulling at my arm, but I ignored him. Gab was on the other side, tugging at Dante, trying to break us apart, but I stood my ground, my eyes locked on Dante’s.
Dante stared back at me, his jaw tight, his breathing heavy. He wasn’t backing down either. Not this time.
Kaibigan ko si Dante, but I never expected him to do this. He knew what Sam meant to me. He knew everything we’d been through, and yet here we were, inches from tearing each other apart.
"Tell me, do you like Sam?" I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The noise of the bar faded, and all that existed was the space between us—the answer I already knew was coming. Dante’s eyes flickered, something shifting behind them, and for a second, I thought he might lie. But then, he spoke.
“Yeah, Renzo. I do.”
His words hit like a bullet to the chest. My grip tightened on his shirt, my knuckles turning white. The truth had been staring me in the face this whole time, but hearing it—really hearing it—was like a knife twisting deeper.
“I like her a lot,” he said again, and out of frustration, I punched him, and they immediately pulled me away.
Dante’s words echoed in my head, and the truth in them only fueled my anger. I hadn’t realized it until now, but maybe I’d been underestimating his feelings—both towards me and towards her. The betrayal gnawed at me.
I stood up, towering over Dante, my fist already clenched before I knew what I was doing. The moment my knuckles collided with his face, a white-hot burst of satisfaction coursed through me. But as soon as he hit the floor, blood trickling from his split lip, the weight of what I had done hit me.
“F*ck you, Dante!” I roared; my voice thick with betrayal. “You’re my friend! How could you do this to me?” My voice was hoarse, raw with emotion. I glared down at him, fury swirling in my chest like a storm.
He groaned, struggling to sit up, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Renzo,” he started, his voice calm but strained, “I didn’t mean for this to happen. But it did. I can’t control how I feel—about her.”
His words only fueled the fire inside me. How could he stand there, acting as if this were all so simple? As if his betrayal was something that could be explained away by some feeling? He was my best friend, my right-hand man. How could he not have seen the lines he was crossing?
“They’re just feelings,” he continued, wincing as he touched his bruised lip. “I can’t stop them any more than you can stop being who you are.”
My fists clenched at his reasoning, but I couldn’t shake the truth from his words. “Feelings? Damn those feelings, Dante!” I spat, my voice trembling with rage. How could he talk about this so casually, as if everything he was saying wasn’t tearing apart everything we had built?
Dante slowly pulled himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. “I didn’t choose this, Renzo. And neither did you. We don’t choose who we care about.”
“Don’t you dare try to justify this to me!” I roared, taking a step toward him, my hands still shaking. “You crossed a line, Dante. You of all people should know that! You’re supposed to have my back, not go behind it.”
His eyes met mine, steady despite the tension hanging thick between us. “I’ve always had your back,” he said quietly. “But I’m not going to lie to you. I can’t ignore what I feel—about her.”
“Her,” I repeated, venom lacing the word. It was always about her. Sam. The one woman who had managed to make me question everything—my control, my loyalty, and now, apparently, Dante’s too. “You don’t even know her the way I do,” I hissed, my anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “You think this is something real, something worth betraying me for?”
Dante shook his head, his voice steady. “This isn’t about betraying you. I’ve followed you into every fight, into every dark corner of this world we built. But I won’t stand by and pretend that what I feel doesn’t matter.”
“And what about what I feel?” I asked, my voice harsh. “You know what she means to me, and yet here you are, telling me you’re ready to ruin everything for some—some feelings?”
His silence was answer enough.
A cold, bitter laugh escaped me. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re talking about her like she’s some kind of—what, a savior? You think she’s going to save you from this life we’ve chosen?”
Dante’s gaze was unwavering. “I don’t need saving, Renzo. But maybe she can save you.”
The weight of his words hit me like a sledgehammer. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Dante wasn’t just talking about some petty crush or an infatuation—he was talking about something deeper, something that went beyond the life we led.
But that didn’t change anything.
“You’re a fool, Dante,” I growled, my fists still tight at my sides. “This life—my life—there’s no room for feelings, for emotions. You know that better than anyone.”
“And maybe that’s the problem,” he shot back, his voice rising. “Maybe that’s why you’re always one step away from losing control. Because you think shutting everyone out is the answer.”
His words dug deep, hitting wounds I’d long since buried. But I wouldn’t let him see how much they affected me. Not now.
“I don’t need you analyzing me, Dante. I need you to remember where your loyalty lies.” My voice was cold, almost deadly. “This is your last chance to prove that you haven’t forgotten who you are.”
Dante looked at me, his face hardening. “I haven’t forgotten, Renzo. But maybe you have.”
With that, he turned and walked out, leaving me standing there, alone in the suffocating silence. My chest heaved with anger and something else—something I didn’t want to name. Something I couldn’t afford to feel.
I slammed my fist against the nearest wall, the pain a welcome distraction from the storm raging inside me. I had built my world on control, on power, on the certainty that no one could touch me. But now, everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers, all because of her.
Sam.
She was a problem I hadn’t anticipated, a complication I couldn’t ignore. And Dante, the one man I’d trusted more than anyone, had just made everything worse.
The question wasn’t whether I could trust Dante anymore. The real question was whether I could trust myself—with her.