Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Dante
I stared at the empty doorway, my stomach dropping in waves.
Something had walked out with Natasha. I couldn't get it back. Couldn't even name what it was.
"Leo's had a thing for Natasha since high school."
A soft voice drifted from behind me. Vera had gotten up at some point and moved to my side, pressing close, her chin nearly resting on my shoulder.
"You didn't know that, did you, Dante?" She tilted her face up at me, voice sweet and low. "He's loved her for years. A man like him is rare these days. Even though Natasha is... invisible. Not good enough for anyone. He'd still take care of her, forgive everything."
She paused, blinked. Tears still clung to her lashes.
"They'll be happy together. You should stop worrying about her."
My temples throbbed.
I don't know why, but hearing "happy" come out of Vera's mouth sent heat shooting straight up my chest. I pictured it—Leo carrying that suitcase, Natasha trailing beside him.
The two of them moving into some cramped apartment I'd never reach.
Him bringing her water, shielding her from the wind, listening to her talk at night.
And the one who should've been sitting there listening was me.
"Shut up."
The words scraped through my teeth.
Vera froze. She'd probably never expected me to talk to her like that.
"What?"
"I said shut up." I turned to face her. "Don't mention them in front of me. Not one word."
"Do you really love her so much?" Vera's voice jumped several octaves. She stepped forward, confronting me.
I didn't answer that sharp question.
"I've only been gone a few months!" Vera raised both hands, shaking me hard. "I was out there sick. Lying in a hospital bed every day, suffering through physical pain, and all I thought about was you!"
Her fingers dug in tighter.
"But her?" Vera's voice shot up. "Natasha turned around and walked off with another man! Right in front of you! Arm in arm with some other guy! I was sick, thinking only of you, and somehow I'm still worth less than a woman who just left with someone else?"
I opened my mouth but found I had no response, because I couldn't figure out when things had shifted either.
I tried reasoning with myself. Natasha was an accident. A scapegoat Nikolai shoved at me. This marriage should never have existed. Vera was who I chose. The woman I wanted to marry. Now everything was just sliding back on track, back to how it should've been on the wedding day.
But that argument spun through my head and couldn't smother the fire in my chest. The more I told myself Natasha meant nothing, the clearer those two figures walking out together became.
Vera saw I wasn't fighting back. She immediately choked off her tears and threw herself at me, arms locked around my waist, face buried in my chest.
"Dante, you rejected me once already." Her muffled voice came through the suit fabric, thick with tears. "Don't reject me twice. Please." She lifted her head, chin pressed against my chest, eyes alarmingly red. "You and Natasha were a mistake from the start. We're the real couple."
I looked down at Vera in my arms.
Her blonde hair spilled across my sleeve. Pale blue eyes swimming with tears, face tilted up, heartbreakingly vulnerable. Before the wedding, I thought I'd spend my life with this woman. I thought marrying her, making her Mrs. Romanov, would be the perfect ending to my story.
Now here she was in my arms.
The person I'd waited for so long finally pressed against me, begging me not to let go.
But I felt nothing close to satisfaction.
Not even a trace.
My gaze traveled over Vera's shoulder to the floor.
Scattered there were pieces of torn paper and canvas. Probably Natasha's birthday gift for me.
I stared at those ragged scraps. Suddenly wanted to push Vera away. But she gave me no chance to hesitate.
She started coughing violently. One spasm after another, her whole body shaking. She slid from my arms, one hand clutching her chest, the other braced against the floor.
"Vera!"
I crouched instinctively.
Vera looked up. Face drained of color, lips trembling, tears hitting the floor.
"Dante..." She gasped, words breaking apart. "I don't have much time left."
She grabbed my pant leg.
"I don't want anything." She cried, voice shattered. "Not your money. Not your status. Not the Romanov name. I just want you with me. Just these last few months. Let me finish this one last dream. Please?"
"Vera, you—"
"When I'm gone," she cut me off, tears streaming as she smiled—a smile worse than crying, "when I'm gone, you can go to whoever you want. If you want Natasha, go find her. I won't stop you. I have no right to stop you. I just want these few months. Please, Dante. You won't even give me this?"
I crouched there, frozen.
The Vera I knew wore designer gowns and kept her chin high. Proud. Arrogant. Never bowed to anyone. I'd never seen her like this—on her knees, clutching my pants, crying and begging me for a few months.
"Don't cry."
I heard myself say it.
I reached out, pulled Vera up from the cold floor, and wrapped my arms around her.
"Okay." I closed my eyes, voice hoarse and unfamiliar. "I'll stay with you."
Vera threw her arms around my neck, clinging to me. The violent coughing stopped like magic.
"Really?" A faint smile appeared through her tears, eyes shining. "You promise?"
"I promise."
"Then I want a wedding." She nuzzled my jaw, voice turning playful. "Bigger and more extravagant than last time. Everyone in New York. I want to marry you properly, Dante Romanov."
I held the embrace stiffly. "Fine. I'll give you what you want. Whatever you say."
I placed my hands on Vera's shoulders, pushed gently, creating distance.
"But you have to get treatment."
Vera immediately shook her head, a strange stubbornness crossing her face.
"I don't need those cold machines, Dante. I need love more than doctors."
Vera smiled. She closed her eyes, lips pursed, face tilting toward mine.
That heavy, aggressive perfume hit my nose. A scent that once captivated me. Now it only triggered visceral rejection.
The second before Vera's lips touched mine, I jerked my head left.
Her lips grazed my cheekbone, leaving warm wetness.
The sensation made me stand abruptly, backing up several steps, putting physical distance between us.
"Too much happened today. Your emotions are running high. You need rest." I straightened my jacket, trying to cover that instinctive dodge. "I'll drive you home now."
Obvious displeasure crossed Vera's face, brow furrowing tight.
"Why can't I just stay here?" She demanded loudly, pointing at the spacious master bedroom. "You already agreed we're together. I'm your fiancée. I should be sleeping in this room, in that bed."
I turned toward the bed. The sheets still lay rumpled. Last night, Natasha had slept there.
My temples pounded. Blood vessels were swelling beneath skin.
"No." I refused without hesitation. "Katerina might finish her trip tomorrow and return to the manor. You know her temper. If she sees you moved into the master bedroom without proper notice, she'll explode. We'll have unnecessary trouble."
Vera's body visibly stiffened. She'd always feared my mother. She didn't like Katerina, just as Katerina didn't like her.
She dropped the unreasonable expression and became instantly docile.
"Fine. You're right. We shouldn't anger Katerina right now." Vera compromised. She walked to my side, slipping her arm through mine. "I'll do what you say. Take me home."
When the car pulled through the Manor gates, full darkness had fallen.
Vera sat in the passenger seat, quiet most of the drive, occasionally stealing glances at my profile. I kept all my attention on the wheel and the road ahead. Dashboard light reflected on the windshield, making my eyes sting.
We passed intersection after intersection.
At every red light, I couldn't help scanning the sidewalks.
A woman dragging a black suitcase. A man in a security uniform.
Where could they go on New York's late-night streets?
Leo's family had gone bankrupt. Natasha had always been unwanted by her father.
Two people just thrown out—where would they sleep tonight?
My grip tightened on the wheel. I told myself it wasn't my business. We'd decided on divorce. She could go wherever, sleep with whoever.
But at every red light, I still looked out the window.
By the time I reached the Kornilov estate, I hadn't seen the figure I wanted to see.
Lights blazed in the house. I stopped on the driveway outside the gate.
Vera unbuckled but didn't get out immediately. She leaned over and planted a quick, light kiss on my cheek.
"Good night, Dante." She whispered near my ear, voice lilting. "I'll start planning the wedding tomorrow."
She pushed the door open, jumped out, skirt fluttering in the night breeze.
My gaze traveled past her shoulder, inch by inch into that lit house. The porch. Windows. Light spilling from the second-floor row.
A few steps away, Vera stopped and turned back.
Headlights caught her face. She watched me, watched my eyes still stuck on her house windows. Her lips curved into a faint arc.
"You don't need to look, Dante," Vera spoke slowly through the darkness. "Natasha won't be here."
My heart plummeted.
"She already cut ties with Nikolai." Vera smiled, turned her back to me, and walked toward the gate. "This house has no place for her. Never did."
She pushed through the door and disappeared inside. Light closed behind her.
I sat alone in the half-dark car, hand still on the wheel, staring at that house where no second blonde figure would appear.
So where would Natasha sleep tonight, penniless...