Chapter 2
DANTE
The party isn’t quite over, but I’ve just about reached my limit when it comes to my temper. If I don’t get out of here soon, I can’t say what I might do. And in public, no less.
I keep Frankie close to my side while I deliver my closing speech.
Despite the fact that my world is imploding, I don’t allow a single whiff of drama to muddy the presentation.
Because the second someone catches even a hint of trouble, all hell will break loose.
Luckily, I’m used to hiding my feelings.
Only fools let everyone know what they’re thinking all the time.
Putting on a show for the investors and guests, I almost start to believe myself—that everything is actually fine.
The words I say about the winery and our big plans for the future are true, and I feel them deeply.
Why shouldn’t I? My work is the only thing that I’ve ever truly dedicated myself to.
And it’s the one thing that hasn’t let me down.
“And so, on behalf of the entire Bellanti family, I want to thank each and every one of you for coming tonight to celebrate with us,” I say, starting to wrap things up.
There’s a genuine round of applause, and it eases my mind slightly.
People have enjoyed the evening immensely and seem to have faith in the forward momentum of Bellanti Vineyards.
We’ve accomplished exactly what we set out to with this event.
It was great for business, and I won’t let my fake wife’s deceit be the stain that shadows all our good PR.
“But as much as I’ve loved chatting with you all,” I finish, “it’s time for me to excuse myself and my wife now. We do have to be up early tomorrow for the pressing! Good night.”
Stepping back from the mic, I smile and wave graciously, keeping a hand around Frankie’s waist. It’s all for show, of course.
We make our way down from the stage and through the crowd, the warmth of her body burning like a hot iron beneath my palm.
But I don’t let her go. I can’t have anyone who looks at us tonight seeing anything other than the perfect couple.
And my possessive streak has me realizing this might be the last time I’ll ever touch her.
She played me so well. Played all of us so well. I’m still reeling at being so completely blindsided. Even now, she’s lying with her face, her body, the perfect smile she wears for the crowd. All of it is a lie. Knowing it does nothing to diminish the ache in my chest, though.
Unbidden images from earlier this morning flash in my mind, and I can’t help remembering every last detail.
I’d gone to her room at dawn, lifted her in my arms, and carried her back to my bed.
Laying her out on the sheets, I’d stripped her naked and then took her more slowly than I ever had before.
Explored every inch of her body. Touched her, tasted her.
Kissed her from head to toe while her arms held me tight.
I can’t erase the vision imprinted in my brain of her eyes locking onto mine as she came apart beneath me, the way she’d moaned my name, pussy gushing over my cock, the way she’d made me feel like someone actually loved me for myself, not my money, my power, my position—
No. We’d fucked. We’d fucked and that was it. Believing otherwise only serves as a testament to Frankie’s skills at manipulation.
So now, as much as I’d like to drag her upstairs and bend her over the railing of my office balcony, fuck her until she’s screaming loud enough for all the guests to hear and I’m too spent to feel the burn of this rage anymore, I won’t do it. There’s nothing inside her heart but deceit.
Funny, she always seemed so against being anything like her father, but I suppose once an Abbott, always an Abbott. She’s no better than that slimy lowlife gambling addict.
Fuel on the flames is knowing that her supposed husband is probably kicking up his feet somewhere in town with that shit-eating grin on his face, waiting for whatever happens next.
I’d like to have my brother arrange for the guy to quietly disappear and never return—we certainly have the connections to make it happen.
The only people who even know about Frankie and him are my brothers and myself, and Charlie.
Hell, it wouldn’t be hard to make the son of a bitch trip into a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere, would it?
But what would that solve? It wouldn’t change the fact that Frankie lied to me.
That our entire relationship was a sham.
Part of some master plan to...to what? I still can’t even begin to guess what she was trying to get away with.
I shake the thought away. It doesn’t matter. Frankie’s husband might be disposable, but even if Frankie comes clean about why she kept her prior marriage from me, my former wife will never be trustworthy again.
She tries to move away from me now as we work our way through the guests and across the courtyard, but I pull her closer and murmur, “You’re expending a lot of energy trying to get away from me, wife. Stay where I put you. I’m not done with you yet.”
Her body stiffens, as if she’s preparing to shake me off, but I only tighten my hold. The moment we get back to the Bellanti estate, I have a decision to make.
Are we truly over, or am I going to fight for her?
I’ve already tossed around the idea of breaking the law on her behalf and helping hide the body.
Equally, I’m tempted to wash my hands of the whole sordid mess.
Give her back to her smug-faced husband and erase her from my life. It’s what she deserves.
Every time people stop us to chat, I’m forced to continue with the polite smile and the bullshit. Pretending nothing is wrong. Meanwhile, my urge to break free reaches a boiling point.
Finally, we escape. Our feet are loud on the gravel walkway leading to the house.
Lights from the lampposts casts a soft glow while the evening wind blows warm and gentle.
Were this a different scenario, the ambiance would be pleasant.
Romantic even. Frankie’s hair tossing in the breeze, the glow of the lights highlighting her natural beauty.
But this isn’t a lovers’ stroll. It’s the death march of my marriage.
I drop her arm without a glance in her direction, but fuck, I can still feel her on my skin. She hurries in front of me as if she can stop me, stop whatever I’m about to say or do.
“Dante, listen.” She tries to snag my wrist, but I pull away.
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
Her jaw drops. “But before, you said that…that we were going to talk in private.”
I scoff. “Well, I changed my fucking mind.”
With that, I move around her and continue toward the house. Each crunch, crunch, crunch of my shoes on the gravel grates in my brain.
She chases after me, but I don’t slow my pace. “Wait. Please. I know I should have told you. And I know you’re confused and hurt and—”
I can’t stop the cruel, hard laugh that comes out. Never in a thousand years will I allow this woman to think that she’s hurt me.
“You can’t hurt me,” I tell her. “You’d have to mean something to me to hurt me. You were useful, and now you’re not. Simple as that.”
We reach the porch and she crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head. I can see tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe this, then. You’re not a partner. You never were. You were a means to an end, and even that has run its course. Your services as a pretend wife are no longer needed. Especially given the fact that our union is legally null and void.”
Leaning around her, I push the front door open. Frankie starts to step into the house, but I grab her arm and tug her back, blocking her way with my body.
“Don’t even think about setting foot inside this house,” I tell her. “I want you out of my sight.”
She freezes, her eyes gone wide. “What? Where am I supposed to go?”
I shrug. “Why don’t you ask your husband that. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t live here anymore.”
Then I go inside, shut the door in her face, and turn the lock. A knock of guilt beats against the iron wall around my heart, but I ignore it.
Leaning my head against the door, some of the tension in my neck and shoulders releases at the sound of her heels tapping down the steps, then retreating on the gravel of the walkway. I let out a deep exhale, knowing there’s no turning back now. No room for regrets.
Will she go to him? Will she crawl into some cheap hotel bed with him tonight? I’ve driven her straight into his arms, and I have to remind myself that it’s exactly where she belongs.
I can almost hear the sound of my father’s voice ringing in my ears.
Women will betray you, every time. It’s been their nature since Eve.
He repeated those words to my brothers and me many times over the years, and I’d taken his advice to heart since I was a teenager. I’ve always used women for one thing, never truly letting them in or giving them a chance to take advantage of me. Just like my father had advised.
Until now.
And goddamn him, he was right.
What a fool I’d been to let myself believe otherwise.