17. Dante
SEVENTEEN
Dante
I stood near the edge of the courtyard, nursing a glass of Barolo that I hadn’t tasted in ten minutes.
My eyes locked on Elysa, twirling in Luca Carrera’s arms.
She laughed, her head tilted back slightly.
She looked…
free and light, like a woman with no weight on her shoulders.
I hated that I didn’t make her feel that way.
I couldn’t stand how Luca was smiling at her, his hand resting just a little too low on her back.
I loathed the easy familiarity between them and how comfortable she looked in his arms.
And I despised that I hadn’t seen her laugh like that with me in longer than I cared to admit.
“Dante.”
“Vittorio.” I nodded to my father-in-law.
I didn’t like the man.
In fact, I’d never liked him.
For Nonno, Vittorio was his best friend’s son, but for Vittorio, my grandfather was his meal ticket.
Every time he had financial difficulties, which was often, Nonno bailed him out.
But for all that, he behaved like a man who had earned his success and would never let the world see him sweat.
There was an arrogance about him that grated on my nerves because it wasn’t earned.
I stopped a server who was walking by and placed my half-filled glass on his tray.
“Can you get me a Scotch, Macallan 12?” I requested.
“ Si, signor .”
“Vittorio, would you like something?” I asked.
He shook his head and held up his glass of red wine.
“I’m good.”
The server left, and for a moment, we stood in silence, the lively music of the quartet playing in the background.
Vittorio’s gaze was fixed on the dance floor, on Elysa and Luca.
“How are things with my daughter?” he asked politely.
They’re absolute crap because she wants to leave me .
"I hear the growing season has been promising so far." I didn’t bother to respond to his question and moved to discuss vines and the weather instead.
"The rains in early spring must have been perfect for the vines—plenty of water for deep rooting. I believe we’re expecting good yields this year."
“Ah…yes.” He smiled uneasily and then straightened as if he’d made a decision.
“Elysa has always been difficult…challenging. She has a mind of her own.”
Obviously, he wasn’t going to take the hint that I didn’t want to discuss my wife.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Having a mind of your own is, in my book, a very positive trait.”
Vittorio smiled, but it wasn’t a nice one—it held malice.
“You know my daughter well enough, I believe, and there’s no need to hide behind innuendo. She’s headstrong, and she’s prone to hysterics.”
“Is she?” My jaw tightened.
He nodded.
“My advice? Be patient with her. She’ll grow out of it eventually and be a good wife to you.”
The server returned then with my drink, giving me the time to restrain myself from pounding Elysa’s asshole father into the ground.
The way he talked about his child was reprehensible.
No wonder Elysa was so insecure and was looking for validation from me.
And I hadn’t given it to her.
She’d made my house into a home, and I’d driven her out of there.
I drank some scotch and let it warm my insides.
“With all due respect, Vittorio, my wife is a remarkable woman. She doesn’t need to ‘grow out of’ anything. She’s intelligent, resourceful, and fiercely independent.”
His brows lifted slightly, and for a brief moment, he looked genuinely taken aback.
“I didn’t mean to?— ”
“Of course you didn’t,” I interrupted, brushing past him.
“If you’ll excuse me.”
I didn’t wait for his response.
My attention snapped back to Elysa, who was now stepping off the dance floor, her cheeks flushed from the exertion.
Luca said something that made her laugh again, her hand brushing his arm, making my stomach twist.
When she excused herself, heading toward the villa, I’d had enough.
I didn’t even think about it.
I was already moving before she disappeared into the house.
The house was quieter than the courtyard, the sounds of the reception fading as I walked through the wide stone halls.
I spotted her entering the ladies’ room near the main staircase, and I waited nearby, leaning against a wall.
The hall was dimly lit with soft sconces.
A few servers passed by with trays, giving me a curious glance, but I ignored them.
My attention stayed fixed on the door she’d just gone through.
When she stepped out, she froze the moment she saw me.
“Dante?” My name was an inquiry.
“I was waiting.” I straightened and walked to her.
“For what?”
“For you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No. Because I can’t stand watching you with him any longer. ”
She sighed.
“Are we on that again? I told you, Luca is just a friend. I don’t have many in your circles.”
“I don’t like it.” I stepped closer, erasing the space between us.
“Do you have any idea how insane it’s been driving me? Watching you dance with him, laugh with him, letting him touch you like?—”
“Like what?” she interrupted, her tone rising.
“What on earth are you insinuating?”
Anger made my Italian come out.
It also made me say things I’d regret.
So, I didn’t answer her.
Instead, I put my hands on her waist and pulled her to me, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.
“Dante,” she warned uneasily, her hands pressing against my chest.
“I told you?—"
I kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle or careful—it was urgent, reckless, and raw. Every ounce of frustration, jealousy, and longing I’d bottled up came pouring out. For a heartbeat, she didn’t move. Then, to my surprise, she kissed me back.
It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to remind me how perfectly we fit together. Her hands fisted in my shirt, her body molding against mine like it belonged there.
But just as quickly as it began, she broke away, her breathing ragged, her eyes blazing with anger.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed, shoving me back.
“Kissing my wife,” I drawled .
“No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to do this, Dante. You don’t get to act like you care now.”
“I do care, mi leoncina. I’ve always cared.”
“Bullshit,” she spat, her fists trembling at her sides. “You ignored me for months. You let her hang all over you—paraded her in front of me like I was nothing. And now, when I ask for a divorce, suddenly, I’m important to you?”
“I know I’ve hurt you.” I cupped her cheek and swiped a thumb over her trembling lips. I wanted to devour them. I wanted to be inside her, claim her. I had been a fool—reckless with her heart, and undeserving of the fortune I’d had in her. Now, I would have to spend a considerable amount of time on my knees to win her back. But there was no doubt in my mind—I would.
She tried to move away, but I wouldn’t let her. I restrained her without hurting her. But then again, she wasn’t fighting hard either. We were matched when it came to sex—and I knew she wanted me as much as I did her. I could use that connection to keep her with me, hold on to her in the only way I knew how—but that wouldn’t last. Not forever.
And I needed forever.
I needed my wife to fall so completely in love with me that she would never dream of walking away again.
“I know I’ve been selfish, stupid, and thoughtless. But I’m trying, Elysa. ”
Her laugh was bitter, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You think you can fix this with a kiss?”
“No,” I admitted. “But it’s a start.”
I dropped my lips to her again and softened the kiss, taking her slowly, fitting her against me.
My God, I’d missed her. I’d taken this woman for granted. Taken what she gave me and assumed it would always be there no matter how much I fucked up. But she’d shown her spine of steel. And now I had to show her that I could bend to her will.
“I’m not letting you go,” I murmured as I nibbled at her lips.
Her shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, I thought she might hit me—there was such fury in her eyes. Instead, she shook her head and stepped back. “What does that mean?”
“I’m going to fight for you, Elysa. For us.”
“You’re out of your mind,” she whispered, aghast. “You…you said you wanted a divorce.”
“I never said those words to you .” Semantics, because I had said those stupid words to Dean. But right now, that’s all I had, and I was going to take advantage of it.
“I heard you loud and clear,” she hissed.
“You overheard a very drunk and grieving man talking to his friend.” I knew this wasn’t fair to her, but hell, holding our marriage hostage because I spewed some garbage when Dean told me that Elysa seemed perfect for me wasn’t fair either .
“You’re unbelievable.” Her voice trembled with rage.
Unbelievably in love with you, my little lioness!
“I’m also stubborn and always get my way.” I was throwing gasoline into the fire, but she needed to know where I stood. If she thought she was going to leave me, she had another thing coming.
She didn’t answer, probably because she was vibrating with emotion. She turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the shadows.