Worth Every Bullet

After Stefan Grimaldi's first love died, he hated me for five years.

I did everything I could to please him, but he never softened. The only thing he ever said was, "If you really want to make me happy, go die. Go keep Sienna company in her grave."

It cut deep every time. I told myself it would always be this way, that he would carry that hatred until one of us was gone.

I was wrong.

When assassins came for us, Stefan stepped in front of the bullet without hesitation. He went down in my arms.

With the little breath he had left, he looked up at me and said, "Annie, if there's a next life, I hope I never meet you again."

At his funeral, his father stood over the casket, barely holding himself together.

"Stefan, I was wrong. I never should have forced you to marry Annie. If I had listened to you back then and let you marry Sienna, none of this would have happened," he said.

His mother turned on me, tears streaming, her eyes filled with blame. "This is all your fault. Every time, Stefan ended up in danger because of you. What have you ever given him besides disaster?"

I kept my head down and said nothing. They were not the only ones with regrets. I regretted marrying Stefan too.

On the night of the full moon, I climbed to the top of the church tower and jumped.

I woke five years in the past.

This time, I was done.

I opened my eyes to find Stefan Grimaldi standing in front of me. He wore a sharply cut black suit, his face carelessly handsome. "Annie Romano, you really are something. You got my parents to starve themselves just to force me into marrying you. What, you think a wedding ring will make me fall in love with you? Keep dreaming."

His manner and the way he spoke were nothing like the Stefan I would come to know five years later. This was Stefan at 20.

I crushed the ache rising in my chest and let myself look at him, just for a moment. I could not help it.

After a pause, I forced a smile, though it cost me. "You don't want to marry me because the person you actually want is Sienna Morelli. Am I right?"

Stefan let out a cold, humorless sound. "Sienna is the only person I have ever loved. What, are you giving up?"

"Yes," I said.

I meant it.

My parents had died in a gang war. Stefan's grandfather, Salvatore Grimaldi, the head of the Grimaldi family, had taken me in and kept me safe. In exchange, he signed an agreement with me.

What the Grimaldi family owed me would be repaid through marriage. But the same agreement could be used in reverse. It could buy anyone their freedom.

Stefan went still for half a second. Then something between anger and disbelief crossed his face, and he let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You used that agreement to back me into a corner. My father pressured me into this. The invitations have already gone out, and now you stand here and tell me you're willing to walk away?"

He stared at me. "Annie, are you serious right now? I don't know what game you're playing. Take the agreement to my grandfather yourself. I'll wait here."

He turned and leaned against one of the stone pillars lining the corridor.

The contempt in his eyes landed like a blow. Something raw and stubborn twisted in my chest, and I came dangerously close to tears.

I had loved Stefan for a very long time. He had also saved my life three times, throwing himself into danger each time without hesitation. I told myself that meant something, that maybe, underneath everything, he felt what I felt. That was why I had accepted the arrangement. That was why I had married him.

Only after his first love died did I finally understand. Stefan's heart had always belonged to someone else. Nothing I did would ever change that.

In my previous life, I prayed to God more times than I could count, begging for a way to give Stefan back what he had lost. Eventually, my prayers were answered. At the cost of my own life, I bought Stefan a second chance.

Before the regression, a priest warned me, "Within one day of returning, you must fulfill his three regrets. Once you have done that, leave immediately. There is a price for this, Ms. Romano. Make sure you have thought it through."

I let out a hollow smile in resignation. What did the price matter? As long as I could settle what I owed Stefan, nothing else did.

…

I went to see Salvatore and used the agreement to give Stefan and Sienna what they had never been allowed to have: the freedom to love each other.

I knew Stefan's three regrets. We had spent years in the same orbit, and I had read his private journal. He had written them down himself: Regret marrying Annie. Regret not fighting the family's decision. Regret failing to save Sienna.

The first was now settled. I walked out of Salvatore's study with the signed termination agreement in hand and returned to where Stefan was waiting.

He watched me approach with open disdain and reached for the document.

I placed my hand over his. "There's no rush. Read it tomorrow."

He gave me a flat look. "How childish. What's this, a new trick? Or did the thought of marrying me finally make you lose your mind?"

Honestly, it did make me happy. I got to see him again.

I smiled. "Stefan, whether it's looks or talent, you're the finest person I have ever known. Getting to marry you would be the luckiest thing in this entire world."

Stefan made a short, dismissive sound and turned away. "Let's go home."

…

We hit traffic on the way back. Through the window, I caught fragments of a conversation from the sidewalk.

"Today's Valentine's Day. They say if you make a wish at the church, Cupid will bless you and keep you with the one you love for the rest of your life."

A quiet, bitter sound slipped out before I could stop it.

In my previous life, I had heard almost those exact words and begged Stefan to take me to the church so we could make a wish together.

He had not even tried to hide his contempt. "Annie, I don't like you. That is not something anyone can fix. And only an idiot would believe something like that. Don't drag me into your stupidity."

The memory made me shudder.

I turned away from the window and told myself not to hope this time.

Then Stefan spoke, almost offhand. "What, do you want to go?"

A beat of silence ensued.

"I don't have anything on today. I can take you to the church. But once we're married, I'll be busy. Don't come up with things like this to bother me," he warned.

I looked at him, unsure I had heard him right. Then I thought about it, and it made sense. It was exactly like him. He had always been that way. He was cold on the surface, but he would give in if I held my ground long enough. In the end, he always did.

Maybe that was just who he was: decent, in spite of himself.

There was no other way to explain it. He did not love me. He had never loved me. And yet he had saved my life four times.

The first time, assassins came for me. He stepped in front of me and took a bullet through the arm. After that, he could never lift a heavy weapon again.

The second time, I ran a fever that would not break. Someone told him that if a person stood in the freezing wind and prayed, there would be a chance it might turn. He actually did it. He stood outside in a thin shirt through a full day and night of bitter cold and nearly died.

The third time, someone set fire to the estate. Everyone else got out. Stefan went back in for me.

The fourth time, assassins found us again. He stepped in front of the bullet meant for me and died in my arms.

He had been good to me, just not out of love.

I knew all of that. I had lived it once already. Going to the church and making a wish would not give us a future that was never meant to exist.

Even so, I could not stop the warmth that spread through me anyway.

"Okay," I said.