Dante stood without another word and walked toward the stairs.
The silence that followed was thick, and awkward. Everyone at the table exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of it.
After a beat, Levi broke the tension with a grin. "Well... it’s definitely more sincere when Dante does the asking."
It was true. When a kid asked, it could sound halfhearted. Obligatory. But when the Alpha himself went upstairs to personally invite soone? That carried weight.
Sienna understood the logic.
But she wasn’t concerned. Not really.
Dante’s purpose was simple: to cover his bases with Nonna. Going upstairs to call Elodie didn’t an anything beyond that. It was just another performance. Another box to check.
He’d never had feelings for Elodie. And he certainly didn’t now.
She relaxed slightly, picking up her drink.
But Liora wasn’t relaxed at all.
Her small hands gripped the edge of the table, her lips pressed into a tight, anxious line. She was worried. Really worried.
Because if her dad was the one asking, her mom might actually co down.
After all, her mom had always listened to her dad. Even when it hurt her.
---
Upstairs, Elodie had ordered a light al to her room and was back at her laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard as she refined her notes.
She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t hear the door open at first.
Then the sound registered.
She looked up.
And there was Dante, stepping into the room with a key card in his hand.
She assud he’d co back to grab sothing, his phone, maybe, or a jacket, so she gave him a quick glance and returned her attention to the screen.
But before she could type another word, he spoke.
"The bonfire feast downstairs is pretty lively. You should co join us."
Elodie’s hands stilled on the keyboard.
She looked at him properly this ti, her expression carefully neutral.
Just like Levi, she assud Dante had only co upstairs to appease Nonna. To say he’d tried. To check the box so he could report back later that yes, he’d invited her, and no, it wasn’t his fault she didn’t co.
It didn’t an anything.
And even if it did an sothing, she didn’t care anymore.
"I still have work to do," she said evenly. "So I won’t be coming down."
Then, as if to make it easier for him, she added, "Don’t worry. If Nonna asks, I’ll back you up."
For a mont, Dante said nothing.
Then, to her surprise, he smiled.
It was a small smile that was fleeting. But it was there.
And his eyes, those dark, unreadable eyes of his lingered on her in a way that made her stomach twist.
Elodie felt a flicker of unease.
They’d known each other for years. Been married for even longer. But she still couldn’t read him. His emotions were always veiled, locked behind walls she’d never been able to scale.
She had no idea what he was thinking.
In the past, she might have tried to figure it out. Might have searched his face for clues, asked careful questions, tried to decode the mystery of Dante Wilson.
But now?
Now she didn’t have the energy.
She pressed her lips together and held firm. "Thank you for coming to get . But I don’t want to go."
Dante’s smile deepened just barely and sothing flickered in his eyes. Sothing she couldn’t na.
"Understood," he said quietly.
And then, without another word, he turned and left the room.
The door clicked shut behind him, and Elodie sat there, staring at the space he’d just occupied, her heart beating a little too fast.
What the hell was that?
---
By the ti Dante returned downstairs, everyone was already eating, their plates piled high with grilled at and salad.
They all looked up when they saw him walking back alone.
Surprise flickered across their faces.
They’d expected that since Dante had personally gone upstairs, Elodie would’ve co down. That she wouldn’t have been able to refuse him.
Harry set down his drink, his brow furrowing slightly. "She didn’t co?"
"No," Dante said simply.
Then he turned to one of the staff mbers standing nearby. "Please bring a portion of the barbecue, a pancake, and the burrata salad to my wife’s room."
The words landed like a bomb.
‘My wife.’
Sienna’s entire body went rigid.
Her lips pressed into a thin, tight line, her fingers curling around her glass hard enough that her knuckles went white.
Levi’s eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing.
Harry looked away, his jaw tight.
Elodie not coming downstairs and Dante having food sent to her room didn’t really an anything.
At least, that’s what Sienna told herself.
But still... She didn’t like the way he’d said it. ‘My wife.’
Like he was claiming her. Like he was acknowledging that Elodie was his wife, even though everyone knew they shared nothing beyond a legal docunt and a cold bed.
Sienna’s fingers tightened around her glass.
But then, after a mont, logic settled back in.
The staff probably didn’t know Elodie’s na. If Dante hadn’t said "my wife," how else would they have known who to deliver the food to?
It was practical. Nothing more.
She relaxed, just slightly, and took a sip of her drink.
---
Upstairs, Elodie was starting to feel the hollow ache of real hunger.
She’d been so absorbed in her work that she’d barely noticed the ti slipping away. But now her stomach was making itself known, insistent and impossible to ignore.
The doorbell rang.
She stood, stretched, and opened the door to find a staff mber waiting with a covered tray.
"Your al, ma’am," he said politely, wheeling a small cart into the room.
Elodie frowned. She’d ordered sothing simple earlier, a soup, maybe a sandwich. But as the staff began uncovering the dishes, her confusion deepened.
Pancakes. Burrata salad glistening with olive oil and herbs. Perfectly grilled skewers of at, still warm and fragrant.
The rich aroma filled the room, and despite herself, Elodie’s mouth watered.
But this wasn’t what she’d ordered.
"I think there’s been a mistake," she said, stepping closer. "I didn’t order these."
The staff mber shook his head with a polite smile. "No mistake, ma’am. These were sent up for you."
Elodie blinked. "Sent up? By who?"
"By the Alpha, ma’am."
Her stomach did a strange little flip.
Dante.
She stared at the spread of food, her mind racing. Why would he send this? Was it guilt? Obligation? Another performance for Nonna’s benefit?
She didn’t know.
And she hated that she cared.
The staff finished setting everything out and left quietly, closing the door behind him.
Elodie stood there for a mont, staring at the food.
She should’ve refused it. Should’ve sent it back.
But it slled so good.
And she was so hungry.
Fine, she thought. I’ll eat it. But only because I’m starving.
She sat down, intending to eat quickly and get back to work.
But the food was incredible.
The pancake was fluffy and rich, the salad fresh and tangy, the grilled at perfectly seasoned. These were high-quality ingredients, things she rarely treated herself to.
Before she knew it, she’d eaten far more than she’d planned.
By the ti she finally set her fork down, the eting ti was approaching, and she was still chewing her last bite.
She wiped her mouth, pushed the dishes aside, and opened her laptop.
Johnny’s face popped up on the screen imdiately.
"Elodie! I need those files—" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening. "Wait. What are you eating? That looks amazing."
Elodie angled the cara slightly so he could see the spread still laid out on the table.
"Holy shit," Johnny breathed. "Is that burrata? And wait, is that grilled lamb?"
A few of the other team mbers joined the call, and their reactions were similar with shock, envy, and imdiate curiosity.
"Are you just starting to eat?" one of them asked.
Elodie smiled faintly. "No, I’m almost done."
Johnny leaned closer to his screen, squinting. "You’re eating all that by yourself?"
Elodie hesitated. "I didn’t order it."
Johnny’s expression shifted imdiately. Understanding dawned. "Your husband ordered it for you?"
"Mm. He had soone bring it up."
There was a pause.
Then Johnny grinned. "Well, at least he’s got so conscience."
Elodie didn’t respond to that.
She knew the truth. This wasn’t about concern. This was about keeping up appearances. About making sure that if Nonna asked, Dante could say he’d taken care of her.
It didn’t an anything.
She pushed the thought aside and focused on the screen. "Let’s get started."
The eting ran late, well past 10 p.m. but no one seed willing to stop. The energy was good, the ideas flowing, and Elodie was fully imrsed in the work, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she pulled up files and charts.
She didn’t hear the door open.
Didn’t notice soone step inside.
It wasn’t until Johnny’s voice cut through the discussion that she looked up.
"Uh, Elodie? Is soone there?"
She turned. And there was Dante.
Standing just inside the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his dark eyes fixed on her.
Her heart did a stupid, traitorous little jump.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
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