CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Commensalis
What will D.M.’s first act of freedom be? I’m going to wander around the city. Maybe I’ll run into him. #Dantezetes (@deisebloombastic)
The street was empty and the night was cold. The icy air condensed on the hood of my coupe, creating a haze in front of my windshield as I stared at my hands still gripping the steering wheel—even though I wasn’t going anywhere that required this engine’s power.
Quite the contrary—every move I made now needed to be careful and calculated because I knew Dante wasn’t just bluffing when he said I should stay here with him. I already knew him well enough to understand that there are no hard limits for Dante Marino when he’s determined to get what he wants.
Three sharp knocks on the window pulled me from my trance, and I spotted the security guard’s silhouette outside, waiting for me to get my butt out of this seat and explain why I was still parked here.
“Doctor.” The security guard greeted me. “Everything alright?”
“Y-yes.” I stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror. “Sorry. I think I’m just tired.”
“It happens, ma’am.” He helped me open the door and get out of the car. “Nice ride.”
“Thank you.” I draped my off-white coat over my shoulders. The security guard pointed me in the right direction, and I walked that way, my heels clicking until I reached the elevator. Célie was already inside, as was Joe. Dante’s mother would be there too. Everything would be fine.
“I have no reason to worry,” I whispered to myself as the elevator rose to Dante’s floor.
The doors opened to a large room with pale colors and minimalist decor. A few art pieces adorned the walls and shelves, but nothing compared to the luxury of the mountain house.
“Helena!” Célie greeted me, drawing everyone’s attention to me as I lingered at the entrance. Candice approached to welcome me.
“I’m glad you came.” She smiled and helped me with my coat, revealing the black dress I’d chosen for tonight. An off-the-shoulder number with a fitted silhouette that hugged my curves.
“Me too.” Dante’s voice pulled all my attention to him.
Dante had gotten a fresh haircut with a subtle side fade.
His curls had clearly gotten extra attention, and as natural as they looked, they could have come straight from a magazine.
His fair skin was golden and glowing, and his clothes fit his body perfectly—a navy blue cotton shirt and light-colored pants that hugged his… curves just right.
“I didn’t want to be rude to Mrs. Marino,” I explained to her, making it clear that was why I was there. Not that anyone besides me could think of any other reason for my visit.
“Let me go see if dinner is ready.” Candice slipped away, leaving us alone.
Dante led me to a mini bar in the corner of the room, from where I could see Célie, George, Joseph, and Candice chatting pleasantly with some people I didn’t know.
“My mother was being modest when she said it would be a dinner for close friends.” Dante surveyed the room, now fairly crowded with Heritage and Alta Ridge’s high society.
“Your father isn’t coming?” I asked when he handed me a glass of whisky.
“Would yours?”
“Sorry,” I said when I realized what I’d done.
“It’s not your fault my father isn’t the proudest father in the world right now.”
“He must be competing with mine.” The sip of whisky burned hot down my throat, bringing back the recent memory of my mother’s call congratulating me on the result—doing everything to make me think my father was proud, even though the last thing he wanted was to hear about my partial victory.
“To our greatest supporters.” Dante said with a sardonic smile.
“A toast!” I raised my glass.
“What are we toasting to?” A female voice materialized beside me, and I turned to see a face. The girl from the cafeteria. I hadn’t expected to see her here.
“Claire!” Dante greeted her with a hug. “I thought you’d be at some frat party in Alta Ridge.”
“And miss the return of Alta Ridge’s golden boy? Never.” She smiled at him, and for some reason, I felt like growling. But I didn’t.
“This is—”
“Dr. Helena Torres.” Claire finally remembered I was there. “We met at the café the other day.”
“Oh right, of course. I’d forgotten.” I lied.
“But before that, Maressa had already told me about Dante’s famous lawyer.”
“Maressa is like your number one fan.” Dante smiled at me, and I felt warmth spread through my chest. “You’re her favorite subject.”
“Only second to her attempts to make us a couple.” Claire’s voice sounded like a mosquito buzzing in my ear, irritating me. “I’m glad she’s given it a rest.”
“If I’d known that was all it took, I would have been accused of murder sooner.” Was that a joke? I hated it. I hated every second of this interaction and the two of them laughing about something so absurd.
“Dante,” I chided.
Candice announced that dinner was on the table, and we settled in for the meal.
Dinner was accompanied by pleasantries and light but enjoyable conversation.
As if the intention was to ease the pressure on Dante's world a little, even though he seemed far from comfortable at certain moments.
Getting back to a normal routine could be challenging.
It had been a long time since Dante had enjoyed a full, peaceful night's sleep.
That alone could be intimidating, perhaps.
After dinner, Candice served us a special liqueur straight from her Italian heritage, and the conversation continued in the living room.
Claire and Dante shared jokes and family memories.
I needed to come to terms with a version of the world that extended beyond Dante, me, and concrete walls.
Dante's real world had nothing to do with me.
I needed some air and decided to step out onto the balcony. I hadn't noticed I had company until I spotted Dante in the dark corner of the balcony.
“Sorry. I didn't see you there.” I turned to give him privacy.
“Don't go,” he said, and it was almost as if his voice could stop my feet in their tracks. “Please.”
I nodded and moved closer to the railing to take in the city. Despite the cold, the lights of Heritage looked like a painting from up here.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I think so,” he said, leaning on the railing beside me. “Taking it all in. I think I underestimated how much I missed freedom.”
“Coming home is always hard,” I said, beneath the waning moon's gaze.
Dante looked at me, and it was the first time since I'd arrived that I saw that flame in his eyes.
The one that used to unsettle me during our technical visits.
He moved a little closer, closing the distance between us, but leaving just enough space for the cold breeze to pass through, as if trying to cool us down.
“Every day I spent there, from the very first… I wondered what I'd want to do first once I was free.” His fingers brushed away the strand of hair swaying in front of my face.
“And did you find one?” My voice came out low, as if part of me refused to go where this conversation might lead.
“Ahh, Helena.” The warmth of his words seemed to pulse through the fingers grazing my cheek. “I came up with many. I can tell you one by one if you'd like.”
His fingers trailed down the side of my face, leaving fire in their wake. I closed my eyes and held my breath.
A flash of clarity returned, and I stepped back at the same moment someone appeared at the balcony door.
“Dante… there's someone here who wants to see you,” Candice said, finding him and leading him inside.
I stayed where I was, letting the cold night air cool my brain and get it working again.
“Helena?” Célie appeared to rescue me.
“Just getting some air.”
We headed into the living room. Célie and George were getting ready to leave.
I had offered a ride to Joseph, who looked completely exhausted.
Some of Candice's guests, including the Petrovs, were saying goodbye to Dante near the elevator, and I did my best not to stare at him as we made our way over.
“I think we're heading out.”
“Of course. You all worked hard. You deserve some rest,” Candice smiled. “I hope it was a pleasant evening.”
“It was great,” George said, with Célie nodding beside him.
The elevator arrived and everyone started getting in, except for Claire, who stayed beside Dante.
“You know what, I'm heading out now, Dad,” she announced to her father, who stood beside me. “I'll come down in a minute.”
I was the last to step in, feeling Dante's eyes on my back. I avoided looking at him but gave a wave from across the room as the door closed, leaving me with one last image of Dante and Claire together.
At the building exit, we exchanged brief goodbyes before heading to our respective cars. I was quiet and irritated as I slid into the driver's seat. Joe asked if I was okay, and I just shook my head. Any positive word out of my mouth right now would be a lie.
Maybe Dante needed this. Maybe now that he was getting intimate visits, he'd forget his obsession with making me uncomfortable. Who knows, maybe this was exactly what I'd prayed for. In a slightly strange and roundabout way, this might be good.