Chapter 29 Dahlia
DAHLIA
He hasn’t come to visit me in a whole week, and I’ve crawled so deep into a hole of destitution that I doubt I will ever find my way out.
Calla has tried and failed.
My brother has tried and failed.
I play, I eat, I compulsively watch the cameras for him and then sleep for a bit.
That’s all I’ve been doing.
Days and nights have blended into a half-awake state. I exist in this purgatory called life.
I want my Paris life back.
I want him back.
But I can’t have any of it. Every time I remember that, I dig deeper into the tunnel of agony.
The hours trickle by, insensitive to my pain.
There are no texts.
No calls.
No contact.
I expect Calla or my brother to show up. My mother is the only one who seems to understand my grief, leaving me alone.
What I do is an insult to the music. I just hit notes out of rhythm—jumbled like my brain, off key like my heartbeats, broken like my soul. The white and black keyboard doesn’t make sense anymore, as if I’ve forgotten how to play and I’m trying to remember in vain.
It’s Calla. She doesn’t give up. My sister-in-law is a bulldozer. I love her. I truly do, but she has no notion of personal space.
“My brother will be cranky that you spend so much time with me.”
She waves me off. “He can handle it.”
I arch a brow. “Sure?”
A small blush colors her cheeks. “I’ll make it worth his patience.”
I shudder. “Ick. Stop gloating.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers and sits down next to me on the bench.
“My brother is no better. Tough love. You either go after what you want, or you won’t get it. It’s that simple. And if you want him, tell him. End both your misery.”
All I hear is that he’s not well. “What’s wrong?”
She worries her lip. “He’s not a big talker, but now he’s even more withdrawn, and Enzo told me all he does is work, fight, and drink. No pause.”
We should be together. Everything makes sense then. The distance is what’s messing with us.
He needs a clear head. I should pack my things and leave already. He can’t continue like that, risk everything he’s worked for because of me. But I can’t. I told Tristan I won’t go anywhere. I informed my agent that she’s free from her contract if Reno isn’t enough for her.
I made the biggest mistake, and I need to fix it. The how has been keeping me from going to him.
Fuck my brother and fuck the entire world if they disapprove or try to end our love story. Because if he kills Mika, I will never forgive him. I am crazy in love with Mika, and Enzo should not test me.
“You love him. Great love feels like the biggest risk.”
I nod. “I’ve loved him all my life, but not being able to love him is hard.”
She offers me a soft smile. “He loves you too.”
“So selfish of me...” Not to say it could end up in tragedy.
She shrugs. “I’m all for selfishness. It’s healthy.”
A small smile arches the corners of my mouth. “I wish I could be more like you.”
She slaps her palms on my shoulders, shaking me.
“You’re perfect just as you are. We women can’t afford to break.
That’s a luxury not given to us. From our pain, we draw strength.
From our ashes, we build something fiercer.
From our despair, we rule the world.” Her eyes bore into me with unwavering belief.
“And especially not us. If we break, chaos will ensue. We’re the matriarchs of the Ferrara and Morozov families, and we don’t crack.
Ever. Now, put that damn crown on your head as dented, chipped, crooked as it might be and take your rightful place.
Enzo and I felt impossible at one time too. ”
These two literally bled for each other.
“So, what will you do?”
Yeah, what will I do?
“I need to know if he’s okay. Keep my brother away. Enzo can’t know I won’t be home tonight.”
“Dahlia, just tell him, preferably when I am around,” her voice softens, almost pleading. “Secrets found out later rather than confessed on time cause even more harm.”
“Please…”
She shakes her head at me. “The things I do for you.”
I lunge at her, hugging her in gratitude.
“You’re the best. I love you.”
I have a plan. It’s risky, but it’s the only way. I am the cause of his misery, but I am also the cure, the only one capable of soothing him.
For the first time in a week, a surge of vitality speeds up my heartbeat.
Hurrying to my walk-in closet, I change into a dress that molds to my every curve and slip into black sandals that snake around my ankles.
I thread my hand through my hair for added volume and apply dramatic make-up—smoky eyes and red lipstick.
This outfit screams for attention, and I will not only get but own his.
Calla accompanies me out, and we climb in my car, heading to Debauchery.
She leaves me at the entrance and signals for the guards to follow her back. No one dares to say anything to her. Even if they glance my way, they follow her lead. The power she wields with a single gesture is sublime.
Inside, the bouncer recognizes me, rushing to let me in. The other two guards stop in the middle of the conversation, looking at each other, obviously contrite. I smile under my breath at their perplexed reaction. Someone will inform Mika that I am here. Just being in his space invigorates me.
Going to the bar, I order a cocktail.
Sipping leisurely, I steal glances at the tinted window, getting jittery. He must be there, watching behind it, because goose bumps awaken on my heated skin.
I am playing a very dangerous game, but I don’t care. Let him out to play, Mika. I can deal with the monster. What I can’t deal with is your being in pain because of me.
Our sorrow will end tonight.
If I were in a somewhat sane state of mind, I would consider the risks of my brother finding out and demanding answers, but I am beyond being rational.
Enzo would not risk his best friend and sister. I wish I had had that epiphany sooner. Even if he doesn’t understand our beginning, he will learn to accept that love blossomed.
A blond guy pops up next to me, giving me an appreciative once-over. I feign interest just to speed up a reaction from Mika.
“Would you like to dance?” he asks, not hiding his interest as he rakes his eyes over me.
I flick a strand of my hair back, playing cool. “Sure.”
My heart pounds in my ears as I follow him to the dance floor. We don’t even make it there before a shadow towers over me, eliciting a smile even though he can’t see me.
The guy takes a step back. Hands raised in the universal I don’t want trouble sign, he sweeps his gaze from me to him.
“Took you a while,” I say, twirling to him.
Coming face-to-face with him has me stuttering on a breath. My lungs seize like an engine on its last drive. Heavy bags lie under his eyes, his hair looks disheveled, and his shirt is undone. I didn’t expect him to look this bad. The smile falls from my lips, and tears well in my eyes.
My heart constricts under the weight of sorrow. I would do anything to ease him, but first I must break through to him. Blinking the tears away, I brace myself for the fight.
I shrug. “I wanted to dance.”
He lowers his head and whispers in my ear, “Do you think he could still dance with broken arms and legs?”
His possessiveness washes over me, drenching me in gasoline. One touch would set me on fire.
“I didn’t think you would care,” I say haughtily.
“What gave you that impression?” His voice deepens, vibrating through me.
“You forgot about me,” I say, pushing him away and turning to the guy who is rooted in place as if not knowing what to do.
“Want to leave this place?” I blurt out.
His eyes widen as if asking what’s wrong with me? I’ll keep his ass alive. I just want to make my damn point.
“No? Good. I’ll find someone else.” I shrug, forcing nonchalance.
A growl comes from behind me before Mika grips my elbow and slams me against his chest.
“The show is over,” he grits out and drags me toward his office.
The elevator doors slide shut behind us with finality, fortifying me. The ride brims with tension, the intensity suffocating.
His chest ripples with his ragged breathing, his shirt straining with the tightness of his muscles.
Playing cool, I appear way more composed than I feel as I step out of the elevator.
“What the fuck was that?” he roars to my back.
I sigh, my shoulders drooping. In his presence, my rebellion gives way to hurt.
“You haven’t visited me in one fucking week.” My voice rings with accusation.
“Stop cussing,” he grumbles, turning to me.
“Or what?” I ask, face-to-face with him. More like eyes to chest.
He drags both palms down his face as if calling for patience.
I poke my finger into his stone chest. “I could have died, and you wouldn’t even have known.”
He rolls his eyes, and I swear I can’t recall him ever doing that. “Stop being dramatic.”
I stick the tip of my nose out, demanding. “Tell me why.”
His features crack with loss of control, and he shouts. “Because it kills me to see you and not have you. Is that a fucking good enough reason for you?”
My mouth opens and closes, taken aback by his display of emotions.
Sulking, I drop onto the couch by the window. Eyeing the people partying without a care while just a few feet above, my world implodes.
“And I expect that guy to live a long life.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, mumbling. “Anything else?”
I look down, unable to bear witnessing the hurt I caused him. “Yes, I want you to stop this unhealthy routine you have.”
“Fine. Anything else?”
I feel my brows furrow. Doubts crawl into my head, weaving a poisonous web. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re eager to get rid of me.”
Only the thought makes me nauseous. Bile rises in my throat, the putrid acid coating my taste buds. I whip my head so fast to him, I get motion sickness.
“Is there someone else?” My voice breaks, emotions overwhelming me.
He throws his head back, inhaling such a deep breath that it’s a wonder he doesn’t deprive the room of oxygen. “Incredible. You drive me insane. And the answer is fucking no.”