Elodie’s pov~
Since my desk was positioned right where the cara could catch the door, I realized imdiately that Dante had walked in.
I adjusted the angle quickly, tilting the laptop just enough to keep him out of fra.
But it wasn’t fast enough.
The cara had already caught him, his tall, poised, radiating figure that gave that quiet authority he carried everywhere like a second skin. My colleagues couldn’t see his face, but they’d seen enough.
I knew what they were thinking.
Most of them had assud, at so point, that there was sothing between Johnny and . The late nights. The easy banter. The way we worked together like two halves of the sa brain.
Then they’d found out I was married. With a daughter. A whole life they knew nothing about.
I never talked about my personal life. Never brought it up. Never gave them anything to latch onto.
So now, seeing a glimpse of my husband, my actual husband, they were curious. I could feel it through the screen.
What kind of man marries soone like Elodie?
Beautiful, they’d said once. Talented. Driven.
So what kind of man could handle that?
I felt their eyes on , waiting for to say sothing. Waiting for to slip.
But before anyone could tease , Dante spoke.
"Still working?"
His voice was low, and calm. It was a kind of voice that made rooms go quiet.
I turned to look at him, keeping my expression neutral. "Mm."
He nodded once, like that was all the answer he needed. Then he walked past to the wardrobe, pulled out so clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom.
I stared at the closed door for a second longer than I should have, then forced myself to turn back to the screen.
Two of my female colleagues were already grinning.
"Your husband’s voice is so nice," one of them said, drawing out the words like she was savoring them.
I felt my face heat up. Great.
"Thank you..." I muttered, wishing I could lt into the floor.
The eting dragged on, but I could feel the exhaustion settling into everyone’s bones. We’d been at this for hours, and while the adrenaline was still there, we all knew we needed to stop before we burned out.
Johnny finally called it. "Alright, let’s pick this up tomorrow. Go get so sleep, people."
There were murmurs of agreent, a few groans of relief, and then one by one, the little boxes on my screen started disappearing.
I was about to close my laptop when I heard the bathroom door open.
Dante stepped out, his hair still damp, a towel slung over his shoulder. He was wearing sweats and a T-shirt, and he looked... relaxed. Almost normal.
I tried not to stare.
I was still working, still had my notes open, still had things to organize, when I heard the sound of little feet running down the hallway.
"Mommy—!"
Liora’s voice rang out.
I turned just as she burst through the door, but before I could say anything, Dante cut in.
"Mommy is working."
Liora skidded to a halt, her eyes wide. She looked at , then at Dante, then seed to decide that Daddy’s word was final.
She walked over to him instead, leaning in close and whispering, though not quietly enough for to miss it.
"Daddy, can I sleep with Aunt Sienna tonight?"
My hands stilled on the keyboard.
Dante nodded without hesitation. "Sure."
Liora’s face lit up, and she threw her arms around his neck, forgetting to keep her voice down. "Thank you, Daddy!"
I closed my laptop slowly, carefully, and stood up.
I was going to say sothing, ask her if she’d brushed her teeth, maybe, or remind her to say goodnight but then I saw movent at the door.
Sienna. Sienna was standing there, leaning against the doorfra with that soft, knowing smile on her face.
My stomach twisted.
Dante and Liora both noticed her at the sa ti.
Dante stood, gently setting Liora down, and walked toward the door.
He didn’t look back.
A mont later, the two of them left together.
Sienna’s laughter echoed faintly down the hallway.
Liora hesitated, glancing between and the door. She looked like she wanted to follow them, but sothing in my expression made her pause.
"Mommy..." she said quietly, her voice small.
I forced myself to look away, to focus on tidying the papers scattered across my desk. "Did you shower?"
"Yeah."
I didn’t ask who’d helped her. Didn’t ask if it had been Sabina or Sienna or soone else entirely.
I didn’t want to know.
"Are you tired?" I asked instead, keeping my voice light.
"A little..."
"Then go to sleep, sweetheart."
Liora’s shoulders relaxed, relief flooding her face. "Okay. You get so rest too, Mommy."
"Mm, I will. Good night, sweetheart."
"Good night, Mommy."
Liora ca over and wrapped her arms around , squeezing tight for just a second before pulling away. Then she turned and practically skipped out of the room, her footsteps light and happy as she disappeared down the hallway.
I stood there for a mont, listening to the sound fade.
Then I moved.
I grabbed my clothes from the dresser and headed toward the bathroom, already ntally checking out. I needed a hot shower. Clean pajamas. Maybe I’d read for a bit before bed, let my brain decompress from the chaos of the day.
But when Dante and Liora had left earlier, they hadn’t closed the door.
I walked over to shut it, my hand already reaching for the handle and nearly collided with Dante.
He was right there. Standing in the doorway like he’d materialized out of thin air.
I stopped short, my breath catching. "Oh—"
He stepped inside without a word, moving past like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I took a step back, giving him space, assuming he’d co back to grab sothing. His luggage was still here, after all. Probably forgot his phone charger or his watch or— But then he closed the door.
Not halfway. Not leaving it cracked. He closed it!
My brain stuttered.
Wait. What?
He wasn’t leaving. He was staying.
I stood there, frozen, watching as he walked further into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, completely at ease.
Like this was normal. Like we did this every night.
What the hell is happening?
I opened my mouth to say sothing, anything, but the words died in my throat because that’s when I slled a perfu.
It was not mine. It was Sienna’s. And it was unmistakable light and floral.
My stomach clenched.
I looked at him more closely, my eyes tracing over his shoulders, the back of his neck and there it was.
A smudge of lipstick. Faint, but still visible. Right at the base of his neck, just above the collar of his T-shirt.
The shirt he’d changed into after his shower.
Which ant this was fresh. Which ant—
My brain connected the dots brutally and fast. He’d gone to Sienna’s room. Or she’d co to his. And they’d kissed. Maybe more. Probably more.
And now he was here. In our room.
Slling like her. Marked by her.
I felt sothing sharp and ugly and hot and suffocating twist in my chest. But I shoved it down. Buried it. Locked it away.
You don’t get to care about this. You don’t get to feel anything.
I forced myself to move, grabbing my things and heading toward the bathroom.
"I’m going to shower," I said, my voice flat.
Dante didn’t respond.
---
The water was scalding, but I didn’t turn it down.
I stood under the spray, letting it burn, letting it drown out the noise in my head.
He kissed her. He ca back here slling like her. And he doesn’t even care that you know.
I scrubbed at my skin harder than necessary, like I could wash away the image of them together. Like I could erase the fact that my husband... my husband... had just walked into our shared bedroom with another woman’s lipstick on his neck.
By the ti I stepped out, my skin was pink and raw, and I felt hollowed out.
I dried off, pulled on my pajamas, and stepped back into the bedroom.
Dante was still sitting on the bed.
But now he was reading a book. No, my book!
I stopped mid-step, my eyes narrowing.
It was one I’d brought with , it was a technical manual I’d been annotating. Nothing personal, but still. It was mine. And he’d just... helped himself.
Without asking. My jaw tightened.
Dante must’ve felt my stare because he looked up, his expression calm. Too calm.
"Do you mind?" he asked.
Yes. Yes, I mind.
But I bit back the imdiate response and forced myself to breathe.
I looked at the book again. There were a few notes in the margins, nothing sensitive, nothing related to company secrets. Just my thoughts on a few concepts.
"A little," I said finally, my voice tight.
Dante’s eyes stayed on mine for a beat longer than necessary.
Then he nodded. "Okay. I’ll ask next ti."
Next ti?
I almost laughed.
There wasn’t going to be a next ti. This... being stuck in the sa room, forced to coexist like so twisted parody of a marriage, this was a fluke. A necessity because Nonna was watching.
Once we were back ho, once the divorce papers were signed, there would be no more "next tis."
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