Chapter 9 - The Choice of the Heart
Two weeks passed.
The news of the "gas explosion" at my old apartment building had settled. With the help of Dante’s legal team, a brand-new identity had been created for me, complete with clean records, a generous trust fund, and a beautiful townhouse in downtown Chicago under the name Elena Vance.
My bags were packed. A black luxury sedan sat waiting in the driveway of the Moretti estate to take me to my new, independent life.
I stood in the grand foyer, holding my coat. Rosa was crying softly into a tissue, and Marco stood by the door, bowing his head with deep, genuine respect.
"We will miss you, Miss Elena," Marco said softly. "You brought light into this house when we needed it most."
"Thank you for everything, Marco," I smiled, fighting back my own tears.
Small footsteps thundered down the hall. Matteo ran into the foyer, throwing his arms around my legs, sobbing loudly into my skirt.
"Don't go, Elena! Please don't go!" he cried. "I want you to stay! Papa wants you to stay!"
I knelt down, pulling the little boy into a warm hug, wiping his tears with my thumb. "Oh, sweetie... I'm not going far. I'm just living in the city. You can come visit me whenever you want."
"It's not the same!" Matteo whimpered, pressing his toy car into my hand. "Take this so you don't forget me."
"I could never forget you, Matteo," I whispered, my heart breaking into a thousand pieces.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs. Dante walked down, dressed in an immaculate charcoal suit. He looked calm, but I knew him well enough now to see the deep pain hidden behind his dark eyes.
He walked over to us, placing a hand on Matteo’s shoulder. "Matteo, go with Rosa to the playroom. Let me speak to Elena alone."
"Papa..."
"Go, son," Dante said gently.
Rosa led the weeping boy away, leaving Dante and me standing alone in the vast, quiet foyer.
"The driver is ready," Dante said, his voice flat, controlled, holding back an ocean of emotion. "Your new house is fully furnished. The security detail I assigned to you will keep a discreet distance, but they will ensure no one ever bothers you again."
"Thank you, Dante," I said quietly, clutching Matteo’s toy car in my pocket. "You've given me more than I could ever ask for."
"I gave you what you deserved," Dante corrected, taking a step closer to me. "A life free from fear. A life where no one forces you to be invisible."
I looked at him—the man who had terrified me two weeks ago, the man who had torn apart an empire to keep me safe, the man who had kissed me in the dark while gunpowder burned in the air.
"What about what you deserve, Dante?" I asked softly.
Dante let out a low, bitter laugh. "Men like me don't get to ask for what we deserve, Elena. We take what we must, and we protect what we love."
He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed a soft tear from my cheek.
"Go, Elena," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "Go live your life. Before I lose my mind and force you to stay."
I turned, took three steps toward the heavy wooden doors leading to the car... and then stopped.
I looked at the open door. I looked at the car. I thought about the quiet, luxurious townhouse waiting for me in the city. A life where I was safe. A life where I was alone.
Then I thought about the little boy crying in the playroom. I thought about the man standing behind me, a man who carried the weight of a dark world on his shoulders, but who had held my hand while glass was pulled from my back.
I turned back around.
Dante was still standing there, watching my back, his eyes filled with a desperate, unspoken hope.
I dropped my bag onto the marble floor.
May you like
"Elena?" Dante breathed, his chest heaving.
"I broke the first rule of survival by letting you see my face," I said, a tear slipping down my cheek as a bright, genuine smile broke across my face. "And I'm not going to break the second rule by walking away from the man I love."
