Extended Epilogue Chiara
The sun is barely up, casting long, sleepy shadows over our sprawling estate. It’s the kind of morning that makes you want to crawl back into bed, but I can’t sleep. Not today.
The cool, dewy grass tickles my bare feet as I wander away from the house. The gardens, usually a riot of color, seem muted in the dawn light, the flowers drooping as if they share my uncertainty.
I’ve watched Sofia and Bianca walk down the aisle, and both times, my sisters were unhappy. But they played the part well, making sure they didn’t look like their worlds were crashing down on them. But it all turned out alright for them, right? My sisters love their husbands and their husbands love them.
But what if I don’t want to get married?
I’m only eighteen, and the thought of marriage feels like a heavy, ill-fitting coat being draped over my shoulders, pressing down and stifling.
I pass the grand fountain in the center of the gardens, its water glistening, and head toward the edge of the estate where the trees grow wild and thick. I’ve always loved this part of the grounds—the way the manicured lawns give way to nature’s chaos. It’s a place where I can breathe and be myself without the looming expectations of our family’s name.
The compound where some of Papa’s men live is just beyond the trees. It’s a cluster of sturdy buildings, practical and unadorned, a stark contrast to the opulence of our home. But even here, I can’t escape the thoughts that follow me like a shadow.
Because Dante lives at that compound.
Dante . Just his name alone makes my heart pound.
He’s the son of Papa’s right-hand man—Victorio Tenebre—and has been part of our lives for as long as I can remember. He’s known me since I was born, and there’s a picture somewhere of eleven-year-old Dante scowling as he’s forced to pose with an infant me and toddlers Sofia and Bianca.
To everyone else, he’s practically family, but to me, he’s so much more. His easy smile, the way his dark hair curls just slightly at the ends, and those deep, thoughtful eyes that always seem to see right through me… Dante is everything my heart has ever wanted but can never have.
My feet lead me back toward the fountain again, and I sit at the edge, the cool stone a familiar comfort. Trailing my fingers through the water, I watch the ripples dance and distort my reflection. It’s a brief distraction from the thoughts of dresses and vows and futures I’m not ready for.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear the footsteps approaching until it’s too late. I jump when a voice speaks softly behind me.
“Sorry, Chiara. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
My heart leaps, and I spin around to see Dante standing there, looking every bit as handsome as he always does. The morning sun catches his chiseled features, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. His eyes, a deep, soulful brown, are filled with concern as they meet mine. He’s dressed casually, but there’s an effortless grace about him that makes my heart ache.
I laugh, trying to calm the fluttering in my chest. “I should be used to it by now, Dante. You’re always sneaking up on me.”
He grins that charming smile that never fails to make my knees weak and sinks down to sit beside me. The space between us feels charged.
“Is everything alright?” he asks, his voice gentle but probing as he gently nudges my shoulder. “You look troubled, Chi.”
I sigh, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me again. I glance at him, wondering how much I should say. But Dante has always been so easy to talk to.
I take a deep breath, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “I’m scared, Dante. Papa’s going to marry me off to someone I don’t even know, someone who sees me as nothing more than a prize.”
Dante’s expression darkens, but I continue on, the words flowing out of me. “Bianca was forced to marry Rork O’Malley, the man my father hated , but somehow, everything’s okay now that she’s pregnant. And Sofia—she hated Dominico Sicura and was married off to him, but somehow, everything’s okay now too.”
“But that doesn’t mean it has to be your fate,” Dante points out. “You deserve to be happy, Chiara.”
“I’m terrified, Dante,” I confess, my voice trembling. “I’m terrified he’ll make me marry someone I don’t really know, someone I can’t love.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and Dante sucks in a deep breath. Before I can react, he pulls me into his arms. My heart races as he holds me, the warmth of his body seeping into mine, grounding me. It’s what I’ve dreamed about for so long, and now that it’s happening, I can barely breathe.
“I won’t let that happen,” he murmurs, his voice fierce and comforting all at once.
“But you can’t know that,” I protest, even as my heart is screaming with joy at his touch. My voice quavers, my eyes wide as I look up at him, trying to make sense of the moment. “What are you doing, Dante?”
He runs his thumb over my lower lip, sending a shiver through me. His brown eyes are intense, filled with an emotion that takes my breath away. “What I should have done a while ago.”
Before I can process his words, he silences me with a kiss. It’s not just a kiss. It’s everything. It’s passion and fire and longing all rolled into one, and it lights my world on fire. I melt into him, my hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as if I could never get enough.
When he finally pulls away, we’re both breathless. I look at him, still in disbelief. “Dante, I?—”
He places a finger against my swollen lips, silencing me again. “I mean it, Chiara. I would do anything for you, including helping you find a way out of marrying someone you don’t want.”
The intensity in his gaze, the sincerity in his words, almost breaks me. If only he knew that the man I would rather marry is sitting right beside me. The man who nearly kissed the life out of me. My lips are still buzzing.
“But what can you do?” I whisper. “Papa listens to no one when it comes to these things.”
“We’ll find a way,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I won’t let you go through this alone.”
His determination is a lifeline, and I cling to it, to him, with all my heart. But the fear lingers, a dark cloud over our moment. “What if it’s not enough, Dante?”
“Then we’ll make it enough,” he says fiercely. “I won’t let them take you away from me, Chiara. Not without a fight.”
I lean into him, letting the comfort of his words and the steadiness of his touch ground me. In this moment, it’s just us against the world, and I imagine a world where Dante and I could be together. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. If I had to get married, I would want it to be to Dante.
But the reality remains. My father would never allow us to be together. Not when he’s the son of a soldier and I'm supposed to marry someone of my station.
TO BE CONTINUED.