CHAPTER 48
Iwake up hugging my little monster. Yesterday, Greta came to comfort me when she heard me throwing up. All I wanted was to bury my face in the pillow so Finn wouldn’t see me cry.
I’d like to do more for my son, but my heartache is unbearable. All I can do is lie beside him, hold him close. That’s all I need right now.
I lost two years of my life when I could have been with Dante… and now we might lose a whole lifetime.
Greta enters the room, like she does every morning, carrying a tray of food. I don’t have the appetite or the will to feed myself.
“Cucciola, you haven’t eaten since yesterday. Javier and I—”
“I’m not hungry. It’s okay.”
I’ll be okay without eating. I used to skip meals when I was with Stefan. I even regained the weight I’d lost with him. Maybe I should stop eating altogether; he used to say I was fat.
Greta sighs, her shoulders sinking.
“I’ll take breakfast to the dining room. Have a bath, then come eat. Per favore. Have mercy on my heart; I’m too old for this.”
A faint laugh escapes me, and I nod. She answers with the same sad smile. Finn waddles toward her, and when she scoops him up, her face lights up.
How can she be so calm when her son is missing? Just imagining something happening to Finn tears me apart.
“Greta…”
“Yes?”
“You don’t feel it in your bones?” I whisper. “That he… died?”
She sighs, takes my hand, and squeezes it tightly.
“I feel in my bones that he is okay. So don’t be sad. He’ll be back.”
A knot rises in my throat. Greta pats my hand twice and leaves, closing the door softly behind her.
I walk into the bathroom and undress, leaving a pile of clothes in the corner. I turn on the hot water and step in. For a few seconds, it’s still cold. Sighing, I lean against the tiled wall, close my eyes, and hug myself as the tears spill.
What if Greta is wrong? I shouldn’t cry for losing the man I love just when she lost her son.
But how can I keep going? She’s the one taking care of me when she should be falling apart.
Her son is missing, for God’s sake! Even if I once tried to kill him, it wasn’t my intention.
I just wanted the truth. I just wanted the fucking truth! I’m sick of living in the shadows.
I wish I could turn back time—to our last night together—so I could beg him not to go. Tell him to stay. Tell him not to leave me alone with a father I didn’t trust.
But I thought it was over.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. No one in my family ever cared for me. Even Greta’s been more caring than my own blood—and I tried to kill her only son.
I won’t say my mum was bad; she was trying her best. She did what she could.
Living in a relationship like the one she has with my father destroys you.
It twists your mind and wears you down. She really did try to keep me safe, but once Tara was born, she had to care for her too, and that inevitably pulled her away from me.
Even then, she never stopped fighting. She never stood with my father. She always pushed back, even if it meant beatings she didn’t deserve.
Why couldn’t I fight? Why couldn’t I leave when I saw it wasn’t Dante waiting at the altar? Why didn’t I call out for help when I spotted him at the reception?
You all would’ve died.
I could forgive murder. I could swallow excuses. But why didn’t he fight? I was the one threatened, not him. If he’d only given me one chance—just one—I would have run to him, before Finn was even born.
When did he get kidnapped?
Why did he have to leave me?
Why did he have to disappear?
“Stai piangendo per me?”39
I gasp, taking my hands to my chest. I look up. Dante is standing in the doorway, naked, with some patches across his body.
My breath catches in my throat. I run to him, slipping, but he holds me before I can hit my head on the floor.
I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist while he wraps his arms around me. He takes me back to the water, hiding his head on my neck, holding me so tight, as if he were as desperate as I’ve been.
“Are you real? Or did I lose my mind?”
“Yes, amore. I came back.”
“I thought you were dead,” I sob.
“Not even death could take me from you, vita mia.”
He kisses me so desperately, we could melt into one. I rub my hands over his hair while his move around my body, claiming every inch of my skin, as every time he touches me.
“I need you,” he pants between kisses. “You have no idea.”
“As much as I do.”
His eyes beam, and he smiles for a heartbeat before taking off his boxers. He leads his cock to my core and moves it through the slit, slowly.
“Dante—”
“I don’t want to be rough.” He kisses my cheek. “I don’t want to go fast.” Then my neck. “I want to be inside you for hours.” And then my mouth. “Ho bisogno di te. Ti voglio.”40
He pushes inside me. I moan against his mouth as his hands grope my arse.
He moves slowly, pinning me to the wall while he thrusts hard.
I’m still holding onto his neck while he hides his head in mine.
A few sobs escape me, and I don’t even know if they’re because I’m relieved he’s alive or because of the pleasure he’s making me feel.
“That’s it, ragnetta,” he says with a husky voice. “I don’t want your tears of sadness, only those of pleasure.”
I pull away to look at the eyes I missed so much.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“That will never happen, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He kisses my neck. “I’m inside you, and I don’t intend to move from here for a long time.”
I let my head drop over his shoulder, trailing passionate kisses—desperate kisses—to his neck.
“Sei mia finché non muoio.”41
I wish I could reply, but I still don’t know how to speak full sentences. I don’t even know what he said.
I arch my neck when he hits right where I need to. His hands find my breasts.
I need more. He does too.
He turns off the water and carries me to the sink counter. He holds my legs open for him and doesn’t leave my mouth for a second as he moves deliciously fast.
“Look at me.”
I obey. His hands move over my chest, going up my neck, squeezing just enough to cut my airflow. I smile.
He takes me closer to him, his hand around my waist. The turmoil of feelings focuses on my belly, and I reach my orgasm, screaming his name and scratching his back.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Scream. Let them all hear who you belong to,” he whispers. “Show me how much you missed me.”
He holds my waist and, without pulling out, takes me to his room. Once I’m on the bed, he pulls away and looks at my body, frowning.
“Why do you have so many bruises?”
He must be kidding.
I can’t keep the nervous laugh that bubbles up my throat. I hold a pillow and hide my face in it.
I’m fucking Dante after almost three weeks where he left without a trace. I should be mad, pissed, but he’s already owning my body, and now he realises about my bruises.
He holds my hands tightly, yanking the pillow away and throwing it to the floor.
“Who marked you, Lana?” His voice turns harsher, his gaze darker.
“I’ve been practicing with Javier. You know my skin is sensitive.”
“Do I have to be angry about this?”
“No. Definitely not.”
He kisses me again, harder than before.
He turns me around and thrusts into me again. His hands wrap around my neck, and when he squeezes, my head starts pulsing and my ears buzz.
“Da… Dante,” I pant.
He loosens his hold a little, but the pressure doesn’t leave. Everything starts turning darker. I don’t know if he’s stopped, but all I can do is picture the sea I wanted to go into when Stefan raped me for the first time.
There’s only a tingle in my limbs.
“Blood.”
Notes:
39. Are you crying for me?
40. I need you. I want you.
41. You are mine until I die.