Chapter 7 Heartless Little Thing
Then, as if a realization dawned on her, she stilled and a smile spread across her face. “He said we might meet again soon. Is this about Dante’s marriage?” she mused to herself, suddenly giddy at the thought. "I can't wait."
With renewed excitement, she turned and headed back into the house, humming a little tune under her breath. In her mind, she was already planning the grand wedding of the decade, ready to flaunt it to the world.
As she made her way toward the couch, another figure stormed inside.
Dante strode through the hallway as he scanned the room, his eyes stopping immediately on Janet. The house had fallen silent—no noise, no sign of any commotion.
Janet’s face lit up as she rushed over to him. "What are you doing home so early?" she asked, her voice chipper. "I thought you weren’t coming until tonight."
“Mom, where is Anya? Have you seen her?” Dante’s voice was urgent, his eyes searching the room.
Janet, unbothered, shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, Anya? That girl your grandpa took in?”
“Yes,” Dante replied immediately, locking eyes with her.
She dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "Yeah, she moved out a while ago. Said she didn’t want to stay here anymore, now that you’re getting married."
Dante’s tension spiked uncontrollably. “That stupid woman!” he muttered through gritted teeth, his anger and frustration boiling over. His gaze intensified, pinning Janet with a searing look. “Mom, are you sure she left on her own? She doesn’t have anywhere else to stay. She got thrown out of her parents' house, and now she doesn’t have much money. Are you sure she left by herself?”
"Of course she did," Janet snapped, her voice dripping with annoyance. "Why would I lie? You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me. She really left on her own.”
Dante’s eyes darted around the hall, and his gaze landed on a maid standing behind a pillar, visibly anxious. “Were you the one who called me? Where is Anya? Did she leave on her own, or did someone take her?”
Janet glared at the maid, her anger rising. The maid immediately gulped, fear flashing across her face. Her career—her very life—was in Janet’s hands. One wrong word, and she could be finished.
The maid’s heart pounded in her chest as she locked eyes with Dante. The pressure of the moment was unbearable. Her voice barely came out as she answered. “Yes, Mr. Kingsley,” the maid stammered. “She left on her own. I helped her take the suitcase out. She was determined to leave immediately.”
The maid’s words made Dante’s body stiffen even more. Janet’s grip on the pearls around her neck tightened.
“I’m so hurt,” Janet said dramatically. "I’m your mother. How can you not believe me? I’m telling you the truth!"
Dante’s eyes locked onto hers with a piercing intensity, his voice a controlled whisper of rage. "I want you to cancel that marriage. Whatever deal you made with the Carters—cancel it now."
Janet’s face twisted with fury. "No," she spat, her voice rising. "Why would I do that? Are you out of your mind?"
“Mom,” Dante’s voice was low and controlled. “That marriage was something you adults decided on when I was just a kid. It was probably even a joke."
Janet snapped at once. "This wasn’t a joke, Dante! If it weren’t for Annie getting lost at that park, you two would be married by now. But now that she’s back, it’s your chance to make things right. You should marry her—it would be good for both of you. You two should’ve gotten married a long time ago."
Dante’s expression hardened, his frustration boiling over. "For God’s sake, I don’t even know who she is!”
"So, what? You can meet her now. What if you see her and fall in love with her at first sight?" Janet challenged, her eyes narrowed with urgency.
He gave her a blank stare, his annoyance growing. "Mom, drop this topic. I’m not marrying her."
Janet’s face fell, and a look of disappointment clouded her features. "Dante, your father died when you were just a boy. He told you to listen to me obediently, didn’t he? Have you forgotten everything he taught you? You’re ignoring me like this?"
Dante’s jaw tightened further, his fists clenched with controlled rage. Dante took a deep breath, his entire body tense with anger.
He turned on his heel, storming out of the house without saying another word.
***
Anya stood outside a grand mansion, her heart racing in her chest. She felt small and intimidated by the size of the building.
The bodyguards standing in a line were watching her closely. Even the slightest movement would alert them, making her feel like a prisoner on display. She could barely breathe, her chest tightening with every passing second.
Just moments earlier, after being thrown out by the guards at Kingsley House, a car suddenly flashed past her, then circled back. It stopped abruptly in front of her, and before she knew it, she was ushered into the vehicle by some scary men.
She hadn’t wanted to go, but with so many intimidating figures around her, she had no choice but to follow silently, her fear rising with every passing second.
They hadn’t hurt her, though. The men had just told her to wait as their boss was on his way. And now, as she stood there, her eyes darted nervously around the grounds, only to see a sleek black car speeding down the street, coming to an abrupt stop in front of her.
A young man stepped out first—tall and sharp-looking, with neatly styled dark hair and a cold expression that didn’t quite match his age. He wore a fitted black suit, no tie, just a plain white shirt open at the collar. His movements were quick, calculated, like someone used to being obeyed.
Then came the older figure. He was shorter and heavier, with thinning silver hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His face was lined, but his eyes were bright and focused, holding the calm authority.
They walked toward her with hurried steps, and Anya instinctively took a few steps back, her heart thumping.
"Annie," the older man called urgently, his gaze scanning her carefully. It wasn’t a creepy look; it felt almost as though he was examining her soul.
Anya’s heart raced. She couldn’t remember this man, but something about him seemed familiar. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and began pulling her inside the mansion, guiding her as if she were a fragile doll.
"Come, let’s go inside. You’ve been standing in the sun too long. You might get sick,” he said, his tone firm but caring.
Anya had no choice but to follow, her body moving almost mechanically as she tried to make sense of the situation. She looked around as they entered the mansion. The rooms were big and fancy. The floors were shiny and smooth, and tall windows let in lots of light. There were big, soft maroon rugs on the floor and heavy velvet curtains hanging from the windows. Beautiful paintings hung on the walls.
Everything felt grand and rich, like a king’s house.
“Miss Carter,” Suddenly, several maids appeared from the shadows, greeting her warmly.
Anya’s feet jumped in surprise. “Miss Carter?” she repeated, confusion clouding her mind. She glanced around, her heart pounding.
Charles looked at her with affection in his eyes. “You look just like your mother, Annie. Do you remember me?”
Anya stared at him for a long moment, her mind blank. He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place him. “I… I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I’ve seen you somewhere, but I don’t remember you.”
Charles’s face lit up with excitement, his eyes shining with a mix of joy and relief. “That’s enough,” he said, stepping forward and gripping her shoulders tightly. “I’m your dad.”
Anya gasped, her breath catching in her throat. “Dad?” she whispered, the word feeling foreign on her lips.
Charles nodded, his expression softening as he continued. “Yes, I’m your father.” His voice trembled slightly as he recounted the events of the past. When he finished, he placed a hand on her head gently, as if cherishing the moment. “You are my only child. You will never suffer again. You and I are family now. There will never be any more pain in your life.”
Tears welled up in Anya’s eyes as the realization hit her. She had lived without a real family for so long, not knowing what it was like to have someone who truly cared for her. But now, in this moment, she felt something she hadn’t felt in years—a sense of belonging.
“Thanks, Dad,” Anya muttered, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him. The familiar warmth enveloped her, and she clung to him tightly, tears silently streaming down her face.
For so long, she had lived with the Foxes, where everything in her life was a transaction, a favor for their business. She had never known love, only duty. But now, standing in the arms of this man, she finally felt what it was like she finally had a home.
Now, after hearing that this man had spent years searching for her just to be with her, her heart shattered into a million pieces.
But then her body stiffened. ‘Carter?’
‘Is that the same Carter whose family Mrs. Kingsley was talking about?’ Her mind raced. ‘I’m the Carters’ lost daughter?’ But then she quickly shrugged the thought off. ‘No way. It can’t be that simple. It’s too much of a coincidence. How could it be?’
She pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “Dad… do you know the Kingsleys? Dante Kingsley?”
Charles nodded and gently led her to sit on the couch. "Yes, in fact, you and he were so attached to each other that we all thought there might be a big wedding between you two. But then we lost you."
Her heart sank further at these words. Her memories of what Janet had done to her just hours ago, all for the same girl that Dante was supposed to marry, made her stomach turn.
The humiliation she had suffered at Janet’s hands hit her hard.
‘What an irony,’ Anya thought, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. Janet had treated her like trash, just so she could marry Charles’ daughter. ‘I hate her so much,’ the thought wouldn’t leave her mind.
Charles, noticing the sadness in her eyes, looked surprised when he saw the tears welling up. "Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. He turned to face her completely, his hand moving to rub the back of her head comfortingly. “Anya, if you don’t want to be with Dante, you don’t have to. No one is forcing you.”
Anya started sobbing harder. Back at her old home with the Foxes, it had always been clear—she would marry whoever they chose for her. Her marriage had been a constant topic of discussion, like a business deal waiting to be sealed. They’d even considered marrying her off to a divorced man in his fifties with two kids, just because it would help their business. Even before they knew she wasn’t their real daughter, they had treated her like an object.
Anya sobbed harder, unable to stop herself. “It’s not that,” she cried, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, her voice breaking slightly. “I’m just… sad. Because Ja—” She stopped herself, catching her breath. She couldn’t bring herself to speak the truth—how Janet had tried to hurt her. ‘I can’t ruin Dante's reputation in front of my dad.’ She thought. ‘What if dad starts to hate him too because of Janet. He’s a good man. I can’t do that to him.’
Charles, seeing the pain in her eyes, grew even more upset. The man had spent over a decade searching for her, and now that she was back in his arms, the thought that she had suffered all these years without him was enough to tear at his soul.
He could barely hold himself together. “I’m sorry, Anya,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “This is my fault. I took too long to find you.”
The moment he said that, Anya couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, her emotions spilling over. She hugged him tightly, her tears soaking his shirt as she cried harder, everything that had happened to her rushing back in a wave of raw emotion.
***
Meanwhile, Dante sat at his desk, his face a mask of tension. He had just finished a long day at work when Eric, one of his oldest friends, walked into his office. Eric had been with Dante since college, and now as a trusted member of his team, he handled many of Dante’s personal affairs.
Eric placed a letter on Dante’s desk and then handed him another paper. “Here,” he said, his voice casual, “this was left by Anya.”
Dante’s eyes rose as the resignation letter fluttered to the table. His face tightened, his jaw clenching. “Did she say anything else?” he asked, his voice low, almost menacing.
“No, she didn’t,” Eric replied, then paused, watching his friend’s troubled expression. Lately, there had been whispers around the office—rumors that Dante was going out of his way to help Anya, that he favored her more than anyone else. And now, looking at him, Eric could see it clearly: her leaving had definitely affected him.
Eric, sensing the growing tension, leaned in slightly. “Aren’t you engaged to that Carter girl? Why bother with someone like Anya? You shouldn’t get involved with two women. You’ve never even dated one, let alone deal with both.”
Without warning, Dante picked up a file from his desk and threw it at Eric, hitting him in the stomach. Eric winced, stumbling back, and looked at him with a pained expression.
Dante stood up, his anger rising. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not marrying her! If you want her, then go ahead and marry her yourself.” His words came out like a growl, filled with frustration.
Eric gave him a sour look before walking out of the office, still wincing from the pain.
Dante stood there, staring at the resignation letter in front of him. His fingers clenched around the paper, his anger rising. He looked at the name “Anya” scribbled across the letter and gritted his teeth.
‘Heartless little thing,’ he thought, crumpling the paper in his fist. ‘Dashing and disappearing at the first chance she gets. Didn’t even talk to me!’
He stood up, his hands shaking with frustration, trying to hide his irritation, but it only grew more intense. ‘I won’t let you go so easily.’
“Where the hell is she even staying right now?” Dante’s jaw tightened as he paced, the frustration building in his chest. “She doesn’t even have a home to go to—where could she be roaming, wandering these streets?” His thoughts grew darker with every passing minute, the tension visibly tightening around his features.
The sound of his phone ringing broke through his thoughts. He glanced at it on the desk before taking a deep breath and walking over to pick it up. Janet’s name flashed on the screen. He rubbed his forehead in irritation before answering.
“Yes, Mom?” he said, his tone betraying the weariness building inside him.
“I’ve got good news,” Janet’s voice chimed through the line. “I just spoke to Charles Carter. His daughter has been found. I spoke to him earlier to congratulate him, and I’ve convinced him to let the girl come for an arranged date with you. Her name is Anya, and she’ll meet you this weekend. Make sure you’re there on time.”
Dante frowned, his fingers tightening around the phone.
Janet chuckled. “I heard she’s as beautiful as her mother. I remember how stunning her mom was, she had this incredible presence—everyone in a room would turn and look. If Annie’s anything like her, she’ll turn heads everywhere she goes.”
Dante’s tension only grew. “Alright.” He murmured and hung up the phone. His eyes flickered to the crumpled resignation letter lying on his desk, and then to his phone again.
‘It’s no use convincing Mom to drop this ridiculous idea,’ he thought. ‘I’ll meet this girl, cancel this arrangement, and get it over with.’
***
A sleek BMW glided to a stop in front of a lavish restaurant. The doors were opened for Anya as she stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement. The weekend crowd was thicker than usual.
Anya took a deep breath before heading up the stairs to the entrance. But the moment her foot landed on the top step, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned quickly, only to see two bodyguards following closely.
“No, you stay here,” she said, her voice soft but firm, an undercurrent of nervousness evident in her tone. “I’ll talk to him alone.”
The bodyguards exchanged a glance but nodded and waited at the bottom of the stairs. Anya steadied herself and walked towards the restaurant. She was wearing a light purple dress that reached her knees, paired with pearl earrings and bracelets. Her hair was styled in a middle part, tucked behind her ears, and her eyes were focused straight ahead. The jewelry she wore sparkled, more expensive than anything she had ever owned.
Just then, her phone buzzed. It was Charles on the other end, his voice filled with warmth.
“Annie, if you don’t like him, you don’t have to stay. Just let me know, and we’ll refuse the marriage arrangement. You don’t need to worry about anything. We’ve never lacked anything. Don’t feel obligated to like him or worry about anything.”
Anya smiled softly, her voice soothing as she responded, “Thanks, Dad. I understand. Don’t worry.”
***
Dante sat in the backseat of his car, staring out the window as the city lights passed by in a blur. His phone buzzed in his hand.
“Don’t mess up this date, Dante,” Janet said sharply on the call. “She’ll be wearing a purple dress. You’ll spot her easily.”
“Sure,” he murmured with a tense frown, then ended the call.
The car rolled to a stop in front of a high-end restaurant.
He stepped out, climbed the marble steps, and entered the lavish place. The moment he entered the restaurant, his eyes scanned the room. The place was almost empty, save for one figure sitting by the window in a purple dress.
His eyes locked on her.
His steps faltered.
His breath caught.
“Anya?”