ELODIE’S POV~
I was halfway through closing my laptop when Nonna’s voice ca again through the speaker, warm but laced with sothing I couldn’t quite place.
"Will you be ho for dinner, tesoro?"
My fingers stilled on the keyboard. There was a pause that was too long, and then she added, almost casually, "Your husband might be late as well."
Might be. As if she didn’t already know. As if Dante’s schedule wasn’t carved into stone and delivered to everyone but .
"Nonna, I’m really sorry. I have a few things to wrap up here—"
"Don’t apologize to , sweetheart" Her sigh was gentle, resigned. "Just make sure you eat sothing real. Not coffee and air."
I smiled despite myself. "I promise."
"Good. And Elodie?"
"Yes?"
"Don’t work yourself into the ground for people who wouldn’t notice if you disappeared."
The line went dead before I could respond.
I sat there staring at my phone, her words sitting heavy in my chest like stones. Then I shook it off, and ordered takeout, and shoved my feelings back into whatever dark corner they’d crawled out of.
———————-
The pasta arrived twenty minutes later, and I ate it standing up, barely tasting it. I just took the food as fuel to my body. Just sothing to keep my body running while my brain worked through lines of code that were starting to look like a foreign language.
By the ti I looked up again, the office was dark except for my desk lamp, and the clock on my screen read 9:47 PM.
Shit.
I’d called the driver earlier, so he should’ve been downstairs by now. I packed up quickly, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed for the elevator. The building felt like a tomb at this hour and it was silent, echoey, too aware of itself.
When I stepped outside, the car was already waiting.
But the mont I saw it, sothing in went still.
That wasn’t my driver.
That was his driver. And Dante was in the backseat.
I froze on the curb, my brain short-circuiting. *Turn around. Call a cab. Fake your own death. Anything.*
The window slid down with a soft chanical hum, and Dante looked at like I was a mild inconvenience.
"Nonna sent ."
Those four words simply an there was no room for judgnt.
Of course she did. Nonna and her ddling, her well-aning, impossible-to-refuse requests.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t trust my voice not to betray . I just walked around to the other side and got in, sliding into the sa seat I’d occupied this morning.
The car pulled into traffic, and the silence that followed was suffocating.
Dante’s eyes were glued to his phone, his thumb scrolling in that chanical, detached way that made it clear I wasn’t even a blip on his radar. His jaw was set, his shoulders tense. He looked like a man with a hundred things on his mind.
And none of them were .
I stared out the window and counted streetlights. One. Two. Three.
Then I rembered.
"Did they agree?"
My voice ca out steadier than I expected. I was asking about Sienna’s uncle and his little entourage, whether they’d backed off from buying the villa across from my family’s place. I’d seen Sienna at lunch today, and she’d looked like soone had pissed in her champagne. So I was fairly certain they’d caved.
But I needed to hear it.
Dante didn’t even look up. "Yeah."
His word sounded boring.
I swallowed the irritation rising in my throat and pushed forward. "Then... I want to buy it. The villa. Can I?"
This ti, he paused. His thumb stopped mid-scroll, and he glanced at briefly, assessing, like he was trying to figure out if I was serious or just making noise.
"You can do whatever you want, Elodie."
There was sothing sharp in his tone. It was not cruel, exactly. Just... dismissive. Like he couldn’t be bothered to care one way or the other.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"Mm."
And that was it. He was back to his phone. Back to pretending I didn’t exist.
I turned back to the window and watched the city blur past, all neon signs bleeding into the night.
———————
When we pulled up to the house, Nonna was waiting in the entryway, her robe wrapped tight around her small fra. Her face lit up when she saw step out of the car, and she reached for my hand, squeezing it like I’d just returned from war.
"Brava, you’re ho safe."
She shot Dante a pointed look, the one that said see? That wasn’t so hard and then shuffled off to bed, leaving us standing in the driveway like strangers.
I went upstairs and called Uncle Jason first, updating him on the villa. He was relieved. Then Johnny called, because apparently the man had a sixth sense for bad timing, and spent twenty minutes rambling about so database issue that could’ve absolutely waited until tomorrow.
By the ti I hung up, it was nearly eleven.
I opened the bedroom door and stopped dead.
Dante was already there.
He was freshly showered. His hair still damp and curling slightly at the ends. Sitting on the edge of the bed in a plain white T-shirt and sweatpants, a book open in his lap.
He looked up when I walked in. Our eyes t.
And then he looked away like I was just a ghost passing through.
I stood there for a second too long, my bag still on my shoulder, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with this.
When things were awful between us, when he was ice and I was invisible, I already knew how to navigate it. I knew how to move through a room without disturbing the air. I knew how to exist next to him without actually existing.
But this? This weird, halfway thaw where he wasn’t hostile but wasn’t warm either?
I had no idea what to do with this.
So I did what I always did.
I grabbed my things and locked myself in the bathroom.
The shower was too hot, the way I always ran it, and I stood under the spray until my skin turned red and my thoughts finally stopped screaming. When I ca out, my face was already washed, hair damp, my armor back in place and Dante was still reading and still silent.
I climbed into bed, keeping to my side like there was an invisible line drawn down the middle. The lamp on his nightstand cast shadows on the ceiling, and I stared at them, listening to the sound of pages turning.
This is fine, I told myself.
But my pulse was too fast, and my chest felt tight, and I hated that I couldn’t tell if it was because he was here.
With that thought settling in my chest like a stone, I slipped under the covers and tried to will myself to sleep.
The mont my head hit the pillow, Dante closed his book. He reached over and clicked off the lamp, and suddenly we were drowning in darkness.
Then he got into bed.
I lay there, frozen, staring at the ceiling I could no longer see. My brain did this stupid thing where it started spiraling. Had he been waiting for ? Was that why he’d stayed up reading, because he didn’t want to turn off the light until I was settled?
I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop. You’re reading into nothing. He probably just finished his Chapter.
My mind eventually quieted, the exhaustion pulling under. I fell asleep faster than I expected.
---
The next morning, Nonna was at it again.
"Dante, why don’t you drive Elodie to work today?"
I didn’t even look up from my coffee. "Nonna, I have etings outside the office today. It’ll be easier if I have my own car."
It wasn’t a lie. I did have etings. But honestly, I would’ve said anything to avoid another silent car ride where I had to pretend my chest didn’t feel tight every ti he breathed.
Nonna’s brow furrowed, and she glanced at Dante, her eyes practically screaming, ‘say sothing, you stubborn man.’
Dante, for his part, continued eating his breakfast like we were discussing the weather. Toast. Eggs. Not a flicker of acknowledgnt.
I kept my head down, focusing very intently on my coffee cup. The ceramic was warm against my palms.
Nonna sighed, clearly giving up. "Well, of course. You know best, cara."
I nodded, offered her a small smile, and finished my breakfast in silence.
---
The day passed in a blur of code, conference calls, and passive-aggressive emails. Nothing unusual.
By the ti I glanced at the clock, it was nearly 9 PM, and the office had emptied out hours ago. I saved my work, grabbed my bag, and drove myself ho, the city lights streaking past my windshield.
When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed sothing odd.
Dante’s car was already there.
I sat in my car for a mont, staring at it. He was never ho this early. Not unless sothing had happened. Not unless—
I shook my head and climbed out. Stop overthinking everything.
---
The house was quiet when I walked in. Too quiet.
I headed upstairs, expecting to find Dante in his office or maybe downstairs with Nonna. But when I pushed open the bedroom door, the room was empty.
I flicked on the light, dropped my bag onto the chair, and was about to check on Liora when sothing on the vanity caught my eye.
A red folder. I stopped mid-step.
It was sitting there, perfectly centered on my side of the vanity. Not his. Mine.
Dante and I had an unspoken rule. The left side of the room was his. The right side was mine. We didn’t cross into each other’s territory. His watch, his wallet, his cologne, all on his side. My skincare, my jewelry, my notebooks, all on mine.
So this? This folder sitting squarely in my space?
It wasn’t an accident.
My heart started beating faster, and I didn’t know why.
I walked over slowly, like the thing might explode if I moved too quickly. When I got close enough, I saw a property deed.
My breath caught.
I picked it up with shaking hands and opened it, my eyes scanning the docunt even though I already knew, or I thought I already knew what it was going to say.
The villa. The one across from my uncle’s house.
And under the ownership section, in clean, official print: Elodie Miller.
Not Elodie Wilson. Not a joint ownership. Just .
I stared at it, my pulse roaring in my ears, my chest doing sothing strange and tight and unbearable.
He’d bought it. And he’d put it in my na.
"You found it."
I spun around.
Dante was standing in the doorway, leaning against the fra with his arms crossed, watching with that sa unreadable expression he always wore. But there was sothing else there too. Sothing I couldn’t quite na.
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