37. Dante
37
DANTE
T he bass from the speakers thrums through my veins as I lean against the wall, eyes locked on Vivian. We’ve been dancing around each other all evening, the electricity between us crackling.
She leans in closer, her lips a breath away from my ear. “You know you’re driving me crazy, right?” Her voice is husky, dripping with seduction. Her hand slides up my thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of my pants. I swallow hard, my pulse quickening.
She traces a line down my chest with her other hand. I catch a whiff of her perfume, something exotic and intoxicating.
“Why don’t we get out of here?” she murmurs, her lips brushing against my jaw. I can feel the heat of her breath, the promise of what's to come if I just say yes. Her hand moves higher on my thigh, dangerously close to the point of no return.
Suddenly, I feel a sudden knot in my stomach. Chiara’s face flashes in my mind, and I realize I can’t go through with this.
No matter how hurt I am, no matter how betrayed I feel, I can’t bring myself to be with someone else. Chiara has wormed her way so deeply into my heart that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to extract her from it.
I sigh heavily, gently pushing Vivian away. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I can’t do this.”
Ignoring her confused protest, I stand up and make my way to the bar to pay my tab. That’s when I hear a familiar, wry voice behind me.
“I’m so glad you made the right decision in not hooking up with that… woman . I really didn’t feel like causing a scene.”
I whirl around, my heart leaping into my throat. There, standing in the middle of the bar—looking entirely out of place—are Sofia, Bianca, and Mia. Sofia’s arms are crossed, her eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly knowing way of hers. Bianca looks equal parts amused and exasperated, while Mia seems nervous, her eyes darting around the crowded bar.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I manage to ask, my mind reeling. How the hell did the Marino girls find this place?
“We need to talk, Dante. It’s about Chiara,” Sofia says, her voice low and firm.
At the mention of her name, I feel a surge of emotions—love, anger, confusion, hurt.
“What about Chiara?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
Bianca joins her sister, her eyes locked on mine. “There’s been a huge misunderstanding. You need to come with us. Now.”
I shake my head at the sisters’ words, feeling the alcohol clouding my judgment. “No,” I say stubbornly. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m heading back to the compound to sleep, and then I’m going to tell my father I quit.”
The bitterness in my voice surprises me as I continue, “Chiara’s clearly made her choice with Pyotr. She’s pregnant with his baby, after all.”
Sofia, Bianca, and Mia exchange exasperated looks, rolling their eyes.
“You men can be so stupid sometimes,” Bianca mutters.
Sofia’s eyes narrow, her voice taking on a tone that reminds me eerily of Don Marino. “That’s too bad, Dante. I wasn’t asking. I’m ordering you to come with us.”
Before I can protest further, Bianca and Mia grab my arms, practically dragging me out of the bar. The cool night air hits me like a slap to the face, but it does little to clear my head or temper my irritation.
“Why are you even here?” I ask mockingly, unable to help myself. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating your new impending niece or nephew with your new brother-in-law? After all, he’s worthy to be part of your family.”
Bianca scowls at me, her grip on my arm tightening. “I swear to God, Dante, you’re lucky you’re drunk and hurt right now, because I desperately want to hit you.”
Sofia steps in front of me, her eyes blazing. “Listen to me, you idiot. There’s been a huge misunderstanding. If you’d stop wallowing in self-pity for five fucking minutes and listen, you’d understand that.”
Her words cut through some of the alcohol-induced haze, and I feel a flicker of uncertainty. “What do you mean, misunderstanding?”
Mia, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up softly. “It’s about Chiara, Dante. She needs you.”
Despite my anger and hurt, those words hit me hard. The thought of Chiara needing me… it’s enough to make me pause.
“Fine,” I mutter, the fight going out of me. “I’ll listen. But this had better be good.”
The girls practically shove me into a waiting car. As we climb in, Bianca hits the roof with her hand, and the car speeds off into the night.
“I’m waiting,” I blurt out, the alcohol making my tongue loose. “I don’t understand why Chiara needs me. She has her rich, fancy fiancé and baby daddy, after all.”
Mia’s soft voice cuts through the tension. “Dante, how are you so sure that Pyotr is the father of Chiara’s baby?”
I give her a bewildered look. “Because Don Marino accused Pyotr of being the father. Obviously, he is.”
Bianca lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through her dark hair. “Jesus Christ, Dante. Did you sleep through biology and health class in high school? If Chiara was sleeping with both Pyotr AND you, then it would be a toss-up of who the father is, right?”
Her words make me pause. Dammit, she’s right.
“You may have a point,” I admit grudgingly, hating to admit I’m wrong, “but it doesn’t matter. Chiara was sleeping with Pyotr, and there’s a chance the baby might be his.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Sofia cries out before she grabs me by the lapels, her face inches from mine. Her blue eyes are blazing with intensity.
“Chiara never slept with Pyotr,” she says fiercely.
Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water, cutting through the alcohol-induced haze. “What?” I manage to croak out.
Sofia’s grip on my shirt tightens. “You heard me. Chiara never slept with Pyotr. Never . The baby is yours, Dante.”
I feel like the world has tilted on its axis. “But… but Don Marino said…”
“Papa jumped to conclusions,” Bianca interjects. “Chiara didn’t correct him because she was trying to protect you .”
The implications of what they’re saying start to sink in. A mix of emotions washes over me—relief, joy, guilt, and confusion.
“So Chiara… she didn’t betray me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mia reaches out, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “No, Dante. She loves you. Only you .”
I feel like I’m waking up from a nightmare. The hurt and anger that have been consuming me start to fade, replaced by an overwhelming need to see Chiara, to hold her, to make things right.
“Where is she?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
The sisters exchange glances before Bianca speaks up. “She’s locked in her room. She won’t disclose who the father is, and the Avilovs have broken the engagement because of the pregnancy.”
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Chiara’s been trying to protect me all this time, even at the cost of her own freedom and reputation. The enormity of her sacrifice, and my own foolish assumptions, weighs heavily on me.
But then a single word catches my attention. “Locked away? What do you mean by that?” I demand, feeling a surge of protective anger.
Sofia’s voice is grim as she explains, “It’s exactly what it sounds like, Dante. That’s why we’re taking you to her. We can get you up to her room, and then we’ll find a way to get Papa to unlock the door.”
I shake my head frantically, a new determination settling over me. “No,” I say firmly. “I need to do what I should have done from the very beginning—talk to Don Marino man to man.”
The sisters look at me in surprise.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Mia responds, the color draining from her face. “You’re still drunk.”
“Dante, no,” Sofia says, her voice serious. “Papa is… he’s not in a good place right now.”
Bianca winces. “You’ve got balls, Tenebre, but even I have to admit, that’s a shitty idea. If you walk in there and announce you’re the father of Chiara’s baby, all hell will break loose. You’re a soldier , Dante. These types of situations require finesse and careful maneuvering. You know that.”
But their words only fuel my determination. I’m going to rescue the love of my life. I’m going to get her back.
“I’m done hiding,” I say firmly. “I’m tired of being scared and letting others dictate my life. Thanks for telling me the truth, but I’ve got it from here.”
I can see the panic in their eyes, but I’ve made up my mind. As the car begins to slow, I seize my chance. Without warning, I fling the door open and launch myself out of the moving vehicle.
I hit the ground hard, tucking and rolling to absorb the impact. Pain shoots through my body, but adrenaline pushes me forward. I leap to my feet, ignoring the sisters’ shocked cries behind me.
“Dante! Get back here!” I hear Bianca yell, but I’m already sprinting toward the estate’s main entrance.
My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of fear and resolve driving me forward. I know I’m about to walk into a storm, but I’m ready for it. For Chiara, for our child, I’ll face whatever comes.
As I reach the door, I pause for just a moment, taking a deep breath. This is it. No more hiding, no more fear. It’s time to face Don Marino and fight for the future I want.
With one last glance back at the Marino sisters, who are now racing after me, fear and horror on their faces, I push open the door and step inside. Whatever happens next, there’s no turning back now.