CHAPTER 41
Iwake up sore, with no desire to get out of bed, and with a scratchy throat. I’m exhausted—but in a good way. A soft moan escapes as I stretch.
Despite the discomfort, I haven’t slept this well in months.
When I lived with Stefan, all I felt was lingering pain and the memory of nights filled with torment.
After Finn was born, I could barely sleep for more than two hours while he napped, and Stefan was gone.
I was terrified of leaving my child alone with him after everything he’d done to me.
To my surprise, he never beat or physically hurt Finn—he only startled him with his constant shouting.
He used to buy him presents and take us to the doctor whenever he wasn’t travelling, but I knew that was the least he could do.
I’ve never forgiven him for the beatings, nor for the daily rapes.
I was always so relieved when he left.
I managed to sleep a little better after Dante brought us here, but still, I never felt truly rested, not even on the nights I lay limp on the bed, with my head about to explode the next morning.
I wonder now if, besides the pills from yesterday, Angelo had been giving me sleeping pills or something.
I should’ve never accepted his water bottles; I thought he was just being nice.
But today, there’s no worry, no desperation.
I just want to see Dante. He won’t tell me everything yet, but I’ve always been too clingy—and so was he, which I loved about him.
I’d never had someone who genuinely enjoyed my company.
This time, though, I’ll set my limits. He’ll be able to watch Finn only if I’m nearby.
We could go on dates again; he could chase me, make me his…
God, I’m going to lose my mind. He might be playing with me again. Why isn’t he furious after everything I’ve done? I almost killed him. I wouldn’t blame him. I’d be furious, too.
You should trust him, I told you.
I sigh. Even the voice agrees with him now.
Finn is still sleeping beside me. I reach over and cuddle him tighter. He’s so warm; I don’t want to leave him, but I need to set things straight with Dante before I let him get close.
I glance at the clock on the bedside table. It’s one in the afternoon. Last night, we fell asleep around four in the morning.
I’m surprised Dante hasn’t woken us for breakfast or even texted. Greta hasn’t come to the room either, apparently. Or perhaps I was so exhausted that I didn’t listen when she knocked.
Perhaps Dante isn’t awake yet either, and that’s why he hasn’t texted me. I look for my slippers, and once I find them, I tiptoe to his room. I knock on the door, but there’s no answer.
I enter to find an empty, stretched-out bed.
Disappointed, I go back to my room and see Finn stretching like a kitten. I smile.
Ten minutes later, all dressed, we head downstairs for breakfast. In the dining room, I find Greta wiping the table as if she’s running out of time.
“Buongiorno, cucciola,” she says with a smile and a little heavy breathing. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring food—I went to bed late last night and just woke up.”
Oh, so she didn’t come up. We all stayed up last night except for Finn. Now I feel a bit guilty and selfish for letting her babysit him. I should have taken Dante up on his offer so Greta could have slept in my room.
“Don’t worry,” I soothe her, then add, “Have you seen Dante? He hasn’t sent me any messages and—”
“Dante’s gone out for a few days, for work.”
I nod slowly, my stomach clenching.
He hasn’t called, and he’s left me. On the bright side, if he disappears for almost two years this time, at least he left me with a house, money, and—instead of an abusive husband—an almost mother-in-law who likes me.
I thought he might feel more attached to me after what happened yesterday. Perhaps it was just an outburst on his part after seeing Angelo with me.
I’d rather think there’s an explanation for why he didn’t let me know he’d take me into the woods and leave the next day.
My heart twists. I’m giving him all my trust, and I don’t want to fall again.
I head to the kitchen to get the food. For the second time, I find the cooks working.
There are three of them, and they greet me with a nod.
I pick up the dishes and hurry back to the dining room, petrified.
I don’t usually see them, since I almost never come down this early…
or this late. I tend to stay in my room or in the garden.
Greta is still cleaning up. Does she never rest?
“We could eat here from now on,” I suggest.
She raises her eyebrows and looks at me as I sit Finn in his little chair.
“No more confinement?”
“At least until Dante comes back. If he does.”
She tenses.
Oh, God.
“I-I didn’t mean… I… h-he left me once without an explanation and—”
She sighs, taking a seat and squeezing the cloth in her hands.
“For about three months… I thought he was on his honeymoon. I didn’t call him; I didn’t worry…
They tortured him all those weeks.” She presses a hand to her forehead.
“When he came back, it took weeks before he could… come to his senses. All he would say was, ‘They took her from me. They took her away, Mom. I couldn’t save her.’”
“Who?”
She smiles sadly. “You, of course.”
A knot forms in my throat as I imagine the same lethal man with a broken heart in a hospital room, crying with his mother.
Oh, God. “Why was he kidnapped?”
“He lost track of you for another three months…” she continues, ignoring my question. “When he found you again, you already had a belly, and Dante’s world… collapsed.” She shakes her head. “My son has been through a lot. I know you have too… I just want you to consider that.”
My chest tightens. What about the text message? Who had his phone if he wasn’t the one who told me to get over him?
What really happened?
“Why would he never tell me?”
“Because if he does, you won’t love him for who he is—you’ll love him for what he’s done for you, or so he thinks.
” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I won’t betray my son; he asked me not to tell you everything.
But I will tell you this: during these months, he’s shown you his love in countless ways—even giving you the space you demanded, when all he’s ever wanted was to be near you…
There are so many good things about him.
Can’t you see the man who made you fall in love? ”
Breathe, Lana.
“He... I...” I close my eyes. “He’s the first man who ever showed me affection. He gave me hope. I... I haven’t lived. I haven’t known anyone else—”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Javier told me all about Angelo and you!”
I can’t help but laugh. “Javier is a snitch?”
Greta chuckles too.
As if on cue, Javier walks in, wearing a guilty expression. “There’s not much to do when the house is empty all day,” he says. “Besides, I swear—it was just information for Greta.”
Greta rolls her eyes. “My point is, Angelo gave you attention the same way Dante did. You flirted, you went on a date, and you talked all day, every day.”
“But Angelo isn’t Dante,” Javier cuts in. “And thankfully, because that guy was a jerk.” He crosses his arms, muttering almost to himself.
I try not to laugh. Every time Dante comes up, Javier’s eyes glimmer.
“Angelo is the only exception,” I reply. “Maybe the love of my life is somewhere else, living quietly on a farm and—”
“Dante has a farm,” Javier interrupts.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
He blushes, searching Greta for help. “Y ahora qué digo?”32
“Non ti preoccupare.”33
“Chesumadre!” 34 He raises a hand to his head. “?Me va a despedir!”35
“Oh, stai zitto!”36
My mouth drops, and I blink. “What was that?”
They both shrug like accomplices. This is collusion. I have no allies. I bet even my son would say nice things about Dante if he could.
“Anyway,” Greta waves a hand, “Dante is to be trusted. I promise. A Cassano doesn’t make empty promises.”
I look at Javier. “Is he?”
He smiles. “He’s my role model. I’m not saying it to curry favour; it’s true. He saved my—”
Greta smacks his arm before he can finish. He winces.
“Enough information!” She stands up quickly. “Let’s get to work! And you, finish your meal, dear.”
Javier and I sigh in unison. As I continue to eat, he leaves with exaggerated slowness, head dropped, dragging his feet like a scolded child.
I hoped I could talk to Dante about yesterday—or about anything, really. I just wanted a little more time with him.
He said it himself: this changes everything.
I can’t keep hating him; I can’t keep denying how I feel.
I’ve thought about him every single day for over two years.
Every. Single. Day. Not one goes by without my fantasising about him or remembering how he made me feel when we were together.
I longed to feel that way again—loved, needed, adored.
Even if it was a lie, Dante gave me all of that and more.
That’s why yesterday I wanted to throw away my morals and accept it without question... but then there’s Finn. There will always be Finn.
Dante thinks I don’t want him because I don’t trust him. The truth is I love him—madly and deeply—and probably will for the rest of my life, but I can’t ignore the red flags because Finn would suffer the consequences. I was a child with an abusive father once. I won’t let my son have the same fate.
I need reassurance. He’s a killer. I can’t raise Finn with someone like that, when all I ever wanted was to escape that world. I don’t want him to grow up following a legacy of violence; I want him to be free and happy. And I’m not sure Dante can provide that life for us.
When he returns, we’ll need to discuss all of this. My decision will depend on his response.
I can love him and accept him…but Finn’s safety comes first. If he is any danger to my son, I’ll have no choice but to break my heart again.
The phone’s vibration interrupts the cartoons on the television. I check the screen, expecting it to be my mother or Tara, but instead, it flashes: “Traitor.” The annoying butterflies flutter in my stomach. I wish they wouldn’t.
He could have called me earlier, after he left. Or he could have mentioned it when we were bathing together. He could have even left a miserable note like last time—anything!
“What do you want?”
“I thought after last night, you’d be in a much cheerier mood than usual,” he teases.
I blush. “Well, maybe if a certain jerk had mentioned his trip, I wouldn’t have been so disappointed when I woke up.”
“Does that mean you were looking for me?”
“Perhaps.”
I swear I can hear him smiling.
“Mi dispiace,37ragnetta. As soon as I arrived at the hotel, I took a sleeping pill.”
“You could have told me yesterday.”
“I know... I didn’t want to ruin the mood.”
I roll my eyes, taking a toy out of Finn’s mouth. I laugh as he starts hitting a stuffed animal and screaming.
“I’ll forgive you when you come back. I’m still upset now.”
“You already forgave me. You said so yesterday.”
My mouth falls open. “You can’t take what’s said during sex seriously.”
“I already did.” He laughs. “How did you wake up, amore?”
The annoying butterflies flutter again. I lie back, still looking at Finn but keeping my phone pressed to my ear.
“Sore.”
“Bruised? Be honest.” I bite back a smile and let out a small sound of affirmation. “Do you think it’ll be enough to get you through the week?”
“No. I wanted to do it again this morning; I guess you missed your chance.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll come home and kidnap you for hours.”
“That’s if I ever forgive you.”
“You don’t have to do that, ragnetta. You know I can make you use that pretty little mouth as I wish.”
I sigh. I’m already looking forward to it. “How long will you be gone?”
“If all goes well, a week.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
He pauses. “Indefinitely.”
“What do you mean?”
“My job is do or die, Lana... If things get out of hand, I won’t make it back.”
My heart stops.
“Dante...”
“You’ll be in good hands,” he hurries to say. “Mom won’t leave you alone, and I hope you don’t walk away either. Javier and my guards will work for you. You don’t have to worry about anything. You are safe. All the money I have will be in your account, and—”
“You can’t be serious, don’t—”
“I am serious, amore. If I’m not back in a month, you need to forget about me.”
Air escapes from my lungs. I press a hand to my chest. “You can’t say this to me after... after—”
“I know.” He pauses. “I know, sweetheart. Yesterday wasn’t in my plans, and I’m sorry to put you in this position, but—”
“You can’t die! I have so many questions and—”
And I can’t lose you. Not again.
Whether yesterday happened or not, I would have felt the same way if I’d known this. Every day, when he went to work, I’d watch him through the window just to catch a glimpse for five minutes. Now he’ll be gone, and I’ll...
I will lose him again. He will leave me.
He can’t die.
“I can’t promise I won’t,” he says softly, “but I can promise I’ll do everything in my power to come back to you.”
Notes:
32.What should I say now?
33. Don't worry!
34. Fuck!
35. He's going to fire me!
36. Oh, be quiet!
37. I'm sorry.