HE’S INSANE!
S hould I be scared?
I don’t know how Dante will get up here, but I’m certain my father will hear something.
It’s already midnight, and there’s no sign of life in the garden. Perhaps I should just go to bed.
He’s not coming.
I pull the duvet over myself and close my eyes after one last glance at my window.
I’ve left it open every night since they rescued me. I spent too much time locked in a closed room, and at least this gives me a breeze of fresh air. It doesn’t matter if it’s cold or bucketing down, I need to keep it open.
Out there, there’s freedom. If I latch my windows, I won’t have it again. The window is my last hope. If I sleep with it shut, I’ll be trapped forever.
Or I’ll be free, and I won’t need this stupid illusion.
I sigh. Perhaps he forgot. It’s better that way. I can’t tell him my father ripped the cardigan, nor can he see the bruises. We’re not even married, and he already has excuses to hit me, or to leave me.
I hug my pillow harder.
How will it be like to be married? In fairy tales, some wives seem happy with their husbands... sometimes. But when the wives had husbands like my father, they always ended up with someone far better.
That doesn’t happen in real life. If it did, my mum would’ve found someone who made her happy.
When I was a child, I loved Sleeping Beauty. The villain hated her, but she had three godmothers who cherished her, and the most terrible thing she endured was pricking her finger and sleeping until the prince awakened her.
It wasn’t long before my father found out Mum had been telling me those stories. He hit her, of course. He always did when he had an excuse. This time, he said the stories would fill my head with nonsense. How could they? He was the one beating his wife until she bled.
The “ nonsense ” he meant was love. To him, love doesn’t exist. We aren’t supposed to fall in love with our husbands.
We are just pets for them to use. Love doesn’t exist. Men don’t have feelings.
A mother might love her child, but men feel nothing beyond desire, so they take what they want from whoever they choose. They have no limits for it.
That is nonsense to me. Not just because my mum and nanny taught me otherwise, but because I’ve seen something in Dante’s eyes that tells me to trust him.
When I touched his hand, I felt a spark in my chest, a comfort I’ve never known.
Everyone else feels cold; they make my skin crawl. But not Dante.
I want to trust him. My mum does, and that should mean something…
But I don’t want to live like her. If she’s wrong, then I don’t want to have children. I don’t want sons if they’ll be like my father. I don’t want daughters if they’ll live locked away like me, or suffer the same fate. No one deserves that.
A quiet thud sounds behind me. My body tenses, and I keep my eyes shut.
I must’ve imagined it. If not—
“ Ragnetta …”
I sit up straight, my head colliding with something hard. I press my hand to my forehead as Dante does the same, both of us groaning in pain while he struggles to hold back a laugh.
“You scared me!”
“Sorry. I told you I’d come.”
I sigh as he sits on the edge of the bed.
“You don’t seem excited to see me. If you’d rather, I can come back next week and—”
“No, I’m fine.” I rub my eyes. “What do you want to do?”
He smiles. “Follow me.”
Somehow, Dante convinced me to climb onto the roof. But there’s no way he’ll talk me into jumping into the middle of nowhere.
“I’ll catch you if you fall, amore . Trust me.”
“I don’t even know you,” I whisper, my voice a high-pitched squeak. “Why am I doing this? I’m going to sleep right here, I don’t care.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m absolutely serious. I won’t jump. You’re insane!”
I press my back against the wall—roof tiles?… Whatever this is. If I move, I’ll fall. I’ll break my back, and my father will probably beat me in the hospital or something. No, I won’t let that happen!
“Come on, sweetheart. You’re better than this.”
“Yes, and that’s why I’m going back to my bed. I’ll close my eyes, and I’ll sleep until this nightmare ends!”
Unfortunately, there’s nothing to hold onto.
I’m such an idiot.
Maybe if I extend my arm far enough, I can—
A gunshot rings out nearby, and I jump in place. My foot slips, and I fall.
That’s it. I’m dead. I knew this was a bad idea. But Dante looked so confident—I thought he had a better plan, like a bloody ladder or something waiting for us.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
I do. His face is far too close to mine, a cocky smile playing on his lips. “Was this so terrible?”
I tuck my arms against my chest as soon as I realise how pressed I am to his body, but not even like that I’m far enough.
His arms are wrapped around my legs and torso...
Déjà vu.
His heartbeat pounds so hard I feel it against my arm. I lean into him. His scent fills my nostrils, and all I can think about is safety. Relief.
Dante.
Why?
Another gunshot echoes in the distance.
“What was that?” I whisper against his neck.
His heartbeat quickens. Is he scared of guns?
“This place is near a hunting area. Nothing to worry about.”
My heart clenches. Poor animals.
Dante starts walking. I frown and try to wriggle free, but he only tightens his grip.
“You’re not planning to let me go?”
He smiles. “I’d be a fool if I did.”
“I can walk by myself, thank you very much!”
He doesn’t reply, and I roll my eyes at his silence.
He finally puts me down when we’re in front of the gates, hidden by bushes and a few trees.
“Are you ready to climb again?”
My mouth falls open.
Oh, God.
A smirk spreads across his face as he leads me toward the fence.
“Do you want to drive?” he asks once we’re far enough from the house.
I’ve just caught my breath after nearly dying over that fence. This time, I let myself fall deliberately, hoping he’d catch me—and he did. Though my heart almost burst out of my chest, and I had to summon all my self-control not to shout.
I arch my eyebrows as he stops. He’s serious. “A-are you sure? I don’t know how to—”
He interrupts me by pulling the seat back from the steering wheel. He pats his thigh, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“I promise not to touch you more than I need to teach you.”
I exhale slowly. Trust. I need to trust him.
But…
“You could easily… do things you shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
Our eyes meet for a few moments before he reaches into his pocket, takes something out, and gives it to me.
A knife.
“Keep it close to you. If you even think I’ll do something you don’t want, stab me.”
He says it so nonchalantly, it catches me off guard.
“What? Where?”
“Anywhere. It doesn’t matter.”
My jaw falls open.
“You are insane.”
“I’m trusting you with my life, ragnetta . If you think I’ll touch you anywhere you don’t want, stab me. I’m giving you that choice, so you can feel safe. Now, come here. There are no cars around.”
Heat flushes my cheeks as I take the knife from him and sit between his legs.
“Now, I’ll keep my hands on the steering wheel in case you lose control,” he continues. “I’ll handle the gear shift and the pedals. If you want to stop, just let me know.”
“I’m going to kill us.”
He huffs. “I won’t let that happen. Are you ready?”
I nod. One of his hands moves away from mine. My eyes are glued to the road, so I jump in place when the engine roars to life. He gives me a quick explanation of where I need to take us, and I follow his instructions.
It’s not that hard, just steering. I like this, though having his body so close stirs feelings I can’t quite comprehend. It’s not uncomfortable, unlike so many other things, it’s just… strange.
“This is way better than driving a shopping cart in the supermarket,” I say, breathless.
He laughs. The vibration tingles through my back and spreads into my chest. “Definitely better than that, sweetheart. Do you want to go faster?”
“Okay.”
He speeds up so much I jolt back into his chest, my arms stretched out to keep the car steady. A laugh bursts from my throat. His head is so close I can hear his quiet chuckle in my ear.
This is exhilarating. I feel so free… until we reach a curve, and the car doesn’t slow down.
“Dante…”
I wait for his instructions, but he doesn’t give me any.
Bloody hell!
As I turn, the car screeches before going straight again. My heart is going to run away from my chest, I swear. Dante doesn’t have common sense!
“What are you doing?” I shriek.
“Giving you my trust.”
He is insane. Jumping off rooftops or climbing gates was reckless enough, but this? This is madness.
“We could’ve crashed!”
“I would’ve died a happy man.”
“Why? Because you were killed by an incompetent driver?”
“I’m with you.” He pauses. “Dead or alive, I’m with you.”
Warmth floods my chest and cheeks. Butterflies flutter in my belly, just as my mum said they would someday. I’ve never felt like this before.
He shouldn’t be making me feel like this. This isn’t who I am. I’m not… I’m not a happy person. I don’t deserve to be.
My breath catches, and I grip the steering wheel tighter.
“I… I think I’ve had enough now,” I say, though I don’t want to leave his arms.
“Do you want me to take over? We’re close anyway.”
I nod silently. He doesn’t stop or ask me to return to my seat.
Instead, he brushes my hands away gently as he grips the handle.
The warmth of his hands lingers, and I’m tempted to keep mine beneath his, but I let go.
My fingers trail over his muscular arms, decorated with black tattoos and faint scars.
His skin is so warm against mine. I don’t want to let go. I’ve craved a touch like this for a long time—tender, caring.
“Is it wrong that I feel good?” I whisper before I can stop myself.
Guilt gnaws at me for enjoying this moment with him. I should be crying, thinking about the mistakes I’ve made.
I’m disgusting. He shouldn’t want me. He’ll be disappointed when he learns how broken I am, how I can’t sleep without nightmares most nights, how I’ll wake him up screaming over pain and memories that refuse to stay buried.
“You deserve to feel good, amore .”
If I tell him what happened, will he believe me? Will he care? Will he understand?
No. He can never know. I don’t want to be seen as a survivor or a victim. I’m just Lana. I want him to see me .
If we fall in love, I don’t want it to be stained by my past. And I don’t want to know anything about his.
We’re just two human beings getting to know each other.
No traumas, no opinions. We could be serial killers, but if we fall in love without knowing this, we could accept everything… right? Could I?
Probably not. I’d be too scared… But I want to believe he won’t let me down. Too many people have already done that.
I take his knife, and with a sigh, I hand it back to him. His confused look makes me smile.
“I’m giving you my trust too. Don’t let me down.”
He smiles, tosses the knife onto the back seat, and kisses my hair. “Never. I promise.”