21. Dante
Chapter 21
Dante
T he silence in the ballroom is oppressive.
I should’ve stopped her. Should’ve said something—anything—but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I knew what she said was true.
But God, I didn’t think it would end like this. I didn’t think she would be the one strong enough to walk away. I should have done it; I should have stopped this before…
Well.
Before it felt like I’d been cut in half. Like the parts of me that I’ve kept hidden could all come rushing to the surface, demanding to be felt.
She’s right. She’s always been right, and I’ve spent the last few months deluding myself that I was doing the right thing, that I could somehow have both—Carmen and the Guild. But how could I have been so fucking naive?
I thought I could protect her—keep her safe in the little world we built for ourselves in this place. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could convince her that this could be something more.
But I was wrong.
She’s gone. And the fucking worst part? I can’t blame her.
She was never meant to be a part of this life. I knew that deep down. I knew the day we crossed that line that she was only ever meant to be a part of a fantasy I had created for myself. A fantasy I couldn’t keep.
The ache in my chest is unbearable now. I reach for the nearest chair, my hands shaking as I grip it, my knuckles going white. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.
I try to breathe, but it feels like I’m suffocating. All I can think about is her….the way she looked at me when she said those words—cold, final. It was as if everything between us shattered in an instant.
The thing I was too blind to see before is now staring me right in the face.
I love her.
I think I’ve always loved her.
But what do I do with that now? The Guild’s demands, my mother’s expectations, Leon’s orders—they all came first. And they always will. I can’t fucking have both.
Not when everything I’ve ever done has been so brutally selfish. This time, I have to get it right. Denying myself this is barely an atonement.
It’s a bitter, brutal realization. I stand there, gripping the back of the chair, staring into the empty room as if it will give me the answers I need. But there’s nothing. Just the cold silence, a reminder of what I’ve lost.
I close my eyes, fighting the anger, the regret, and the ache that’s gnawing at me. But when I open them again, the ballroom is still empty, and Carmen is still gone.
* * *
The castle is quiet, the kind of quiet that feels like the calm before a storm. Ironically enough, the sky has clouded over, too, threatening the first rain of the summer.
The sunroom, however, has still retained its signature warmth. Not that I can really feel it. My mind is still in pieces, scattered across the ballroom, lingering on the coldness in Carmen’s eyes before she left.
My mother gives me a long look over our breakfast table, but all I can do is stare down at the cup of coffee in my hands.
Evelina doesn’t speak at first. Her eyes flicker to me over the rim of her espresso, assessing, reading me the way only she can. I can’t hide from her—not like this. She knows me too well.
“Something has happened,” she says softly. It’s not a question.
I clench my jaw, not knowing where to begin.
“Where is Carmen?” she presses, her eyes narrowing in concern.
How do I explain this? How do I explain the mess I’ve created when I don’t even know how to make sense of it myself? We never even told Evelina, although there was no possibility she wouldn’t figure it out anyway.
All those dinners with Carmen weren’t a coincidence. The redesign of the billiard room and the rest of the wing hadn’t been just another of Evelina’s vanity projects. My mother had known and hadn’t rejected her.
She’d embraced Carmen. Eagerly.
The realization is a blow to an already painful bruise.
“She...ended things.”
There’s a flicker in Evelina’s eyes, though her expression remains neutral. “Ah. I see.”
I can feel my hands tightening around the edge of my coffee cup, my thoughts racing.
“I—” I pause, staring down at the dark liquid. “It was never going to…she was right. We were deluding ourselves, and…my loyalty will always be to the Guild, to the Grasso di Ferro, too. That has to come first.”
My voice falters, and that final statement comes out more like a question.
Evelina doesn’t say anything for a while, and in the silence, I feel like I’m drowning in my own thoughts. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to reconcile the man I am supposed to be with the man I want to be.
When she finally speaks, her voice is softer than usual, almost gentle.
“You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Dante. You don’t have to choose between one life and the other, not if you’re not ready. But what I hear...is that you’re not ready to let her go. And that’s the first step.”
“I don’t even know what to do with that,” I admit. “The Guild won’t let me walk away. And if I stay with her, if I choose her, I’ll be betraying everything I’ve worked for.”
“Maybe,” she replies quietly. “Or, maybe not. The Grasso di Ferro have no quarrel with the Cartel.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“And she does suit this place, doesn’t she?” Evelina continues as if she hadn’t heard me. “She makes you happy?”
“ Madre. ”
Evelina’s sigh is heavy and ages her immensely. “There is no easy answer, Dante. But I think...I think you already know what you want. And sometimes, the hardest part is allowing yourself to want it.”
I rub my face, exhaustion hitting me harder than I expected. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mother. I don’t know if I can live with the consequences of choosing her.”
“Sometimes, the only way forward is to face the consequences. But the real question is, can you live with yourself if you let her go?”
I close my eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle in. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Enough for me to realize I’m standing at a crossroads and I don’t have a clear path ahead of me.
“She’s strong, clever, and loyal,” Evelina continues. “She could handle this world, this life you’ve built. And I think...I think she would stand by your side, unflinching, no matter what you faced.”
Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
“I will not deny it. I have come to care for her a great deal. She has the qualities of a woman who would make an excellent wife.” My mother gives me a significant look. “And should you choose to stay true to your promises. I would stand by you.”
I know what she’s suggesting, what she’s hinting at. I promised that before I returned to Brooklyn, I would make an offer to someone.
My mind goes blank. Because Evelina’s words have reached me in a way I didn’t expect. What she’s saying, what she’s been saying all along, is that Carmen could be the one.
Could I ask her to stay? Would that even be possible? If the war ends and we’re both still…if she could still stand the sight of me. Would a promise even be enough? Would she even want to turn her back on her family?
But, fuck. Could I truly look at someone else when it was always supposed to be Carmen?
I love her.
I love Carmen.
The idea of being without her...it’s unfathomable. The thought of a future that doesn’t include her feels like a life half-lived.
I can’t marry anyone else.
Not Rina . Not anyone.
Not when I’ve already given my heart to Carmen.
I can’t just stand here and let this slip away. I can’t let her walk out of my life without fighting for her, without showing her that she’s everything to me. Without offering, without hoping, without praying that a promise…no, a proposal might be enough.
I nod, the realization settling into me fully.
It’s not just about the Guild, or duty, or legacy anymore. I don’t even know how it could possibly work, but…I have to try.
And I’ll be damned if I let her slip through my fingers.
“ Grazie, Mamma, ” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Her gaze meets mine, a rare tenderness in her expression. “Now, go to her. Tell her?—”
The phone rings, harsh and sudden.
A death toll. I can feel it before I even put the phone to my ear.
“Dante, it’s time,” Rocco says without preamble.
And suddenly, the world seems to open up beneath my feet. And I’m falling. Falling and falling in the absolute wrong direction.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not so soon. Not when…fuck. No. Wait. No.
We had more time. We were supposed to have more time.
“What do you mean?”
And I would give anything, my heart, my soul, for Rocco not to say his next words.
“Rubio has finally reached out and Leon’s made the call. The exchange. Mia for Carmen.”
Mia.
The name hits me like a punch to the gut. I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady. “Mia’s still with Amos?”
How had I forgotten? How had I so easily pushed aside the fact that every sun-soaked day I’d spent with Carmen, Mia, my friend, was at the mercy of that bastard?
“Leon wants this done, and he wants it done fast. We have no idea what condition she’s in, only that she’s alive. ”
I swallow back the bitter guilt, unable to let myself even think about it.
But something stirs in the back of my mind. Amos had been unwilling to part with Mia before. She was a player in this game, a skilled one, and having her off the board was only an advantage, so…
“Why now? What’s changed?”
“I don’t know,” Rocco sighs as if he’s had the exact same thought. “But Leon is a mess, and the longer we wait, the more dangerous it becomes.”
My mind whirls, but my heart is already made up. There’s no question.
“Understood,” I say tightly, trying to keep my focus. My chest is heavy, torn between the reality of what I must do and the guilt that gnaws at me. “We’ll move as soon as possible.”
“Good. We’ll be ready,” Rocco says, and before I can respond, the line goes dead.
I’m left with nothing but the ringing silence in my ears. The tension in the air around me feels thick, suffocating.
Evelina is looking at me, not bothering to mask her horror as my mind races.
Mia.
Carmen.
Mia.
It wasn’t fair. It was so selfish. It was maddening.
I could steal Carmen away. I could propose and keep her right here, safe and sound and mine. Forever and ever.
But I’d be condemning Mia and Leon to a fate worse than death.
How did it always feel like we had all the time in the world?
Maybe that’s exactly why I need to let her go.