one hundred and fifty eight

Evelyn’s POV

“Dante….…, I will tell you the truth,” I said with a trembling voice.

As I decided to come clean to Dante, a surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins, propelling me into action. I knew I had to spin a tale that would cast doubt on the truth he thought he knew. With a deep breath, I began my performance, letting the tears flow freely as I crumpled to the ground, my sobs echoing through the room.

The weight of my fabricated sorrow pressed down on me, each tear a testament to the deception I was weaving. I hoped that by painting myself as a victim of manipulation, Dante would see me in a different light, a pawn in a game of deceit orchestrated by unseen hands. But deep down, a seed of doubt gnawed at my resolve, whispering that my performance might not be enough to sway Dante's unwavering anger.

“Please forgive me, I didn't know what else to do, Drake….. Drake threatened me” I said in tears.

Dante's surprise at my dramatic display was evident, his expression a mix of con