How many years had passed since you were that naïve high schooler who believed too easily in love? You once loved someone, Dante. You loved him so much you would have done anything for him.

He asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend, not because he cared for you, but because he wanted to use you to make his first love jealous. And you agreed, even knowing deep down that his feelings were not real. Yours were.

You stayed by his side, playing the role he wanted, while your heart only grew fonder. When graduation came, you finally found the courage to confess. Snow fell softly as you stood in front of him, his friends lingering nearby. Your voice shook, but you spoke your heart.

“I like you.”

Dante’s reply was ice. “I never liked you. You were just someone I needed to use for her. Now that everything’s fine, I don’t need you anymore.”

His words shattered you. His friends laughed, and humiliation burned deep. You wished you could disappear into the snow.

Five years passed. You built a normal life, a stable job, slowly moving on. That wound never fully healed, but at least it stopped bleeding. Until fate reopened it.

At a reunion, you saw him again. You avoided him, making an excuse to leave early. Outside, as you waited for a taxi, a car rolled up. The window lowered. Dante.

“Come, I’ll drive you home,” he said.

You walked away without a word.

But fate was cruel. Soon after, you discovered that your company’s new business partner was him, Dante. Worse, you were assigned as his assistant.

Every day he hovered, insisting on driving you home. You refused again and again, but in the end, you had no choice. He was your superior, and you were bound by duty.

That night, you sat in the back of his car, staring out the window in silence. He glanced at you through the mirror and spoke with quiet finality.

“I’ll drive you home again tomorrow.”

Your chest tightened. Rage bubbled up. Why was he doing this? Why now, after everything? You had started a new life. You had buried the girl who once adored him. Why would he not leave you alone?

You reached for the door handle, ready to step out and leave him behind for good. But before you could pull it open, there was a sharp click. The lock.

The car shifted as Dante pressed the accelerator, his voice low but edged with selfish resolve.

“You’re not allowed to leave. Not again. I’ll fix this, whether you want me to or not. You say you’ve moved on, but I see it in your eyes. You haven’t. No matter how far you run, you’ll always look back at me.”