Dante’s POV~
It was nearly dawn by the ti we reached the Northern Bellini Pack estate.
Liora had fallen asleep in the car long before we pulled through the gates. Her little head rested against the leather seat, soft breaths fogging the glass beside her. I carried her upstairs, past the long corridors and the cold marble floors, my footsteps echoing in a house that had been too silent for too long.
When I reached the master wing, I noticed the bedroom door stood open. The room was dark, curtains drawn tight, the faint scent of her perfu already fading.
I set Liora down gently in her room, brushed the hair off her face, and let the nanny settle her. Then I went back to my room. Flicked on the light. The bed was untouched. Empty. Sheets tucked in perfectly as if no one had bothered sleeping there.
The butler appeared just then, dragging my luggage inside. I pulled at my tie, loosened it, my voice low.
“Where is she?”
He lowered his head imdiately. “Madam left on a business trip, Alpha.”
I paused, unbuttoned my cuff, waited for him to say more.
He added quickly, “She took her luggage herself. That was... about half a month ago. So of the staff said she left for the city.”
Half a month. For Elodie, that was strange. She rarely traveled for business, and when she did, it was never longer than a few days. But I didn’t ask again. Didn’t bother. I only humd under my breath, dismissing him with a flick of my hand.
The house fell back into silence.
––
The next morning, I walked into the Pack corporation building. My return hadn’t been announced. No one knew I was back in Italy.
I caught sight of her the second I stepped through the glass doors. Elodie. She froze when her eyes landed on . A flicker of sothing, shock, hesitation, crossed her face before she smoothed it away.
I didn’t stop. Didn’t ask where she had been. Didn’t even acknowledge her stare. I walked right past her as though she was just another employee in my building.
Her scent was the only thing that brushed against . Once, that would’ve made her lips curve into a smile, eyes lighting up like she couldn’t believe I’d co back so suddenly. She would’ve whispered a soft “good morning” no matter how coldly I looked at her, holding on to the scraps of attention I gave.
Now, there was nothing.
She only lowered her gaze, silent, as if she already knew not to expect anything from .
I didn’t turn back.
I kept walking, hands shoved in my pockets, as though she wasn’t even there.
———
Elodie’s POV~
Watching Dante’s tall figure, his body built like an athlete, retreat down the hallway earlier this morning, had left with a strange hollowness. He hadn’t even glanced my way. No flicker of recognition, no pause in his step. Just cold indifference.
For a mont, I wondered when he had returned from the Bellini Pack in Italy. No one told . Of course, no one ever told anything when it ca to him. But if he was back... maybe it ant the divorce could finally go through.
The thought should have felt like relief. Instead, it sat in my chest like a stone.
So I did what I always do. I drowned myself in work. Numbers, reports, endless emails, just anything to distract myself from the sound of his footsteps still echoing in my ears.
Half an hour later, Albert’s call ca.
“Elodie, two cups of coffee. Bring them to Alpha Dante’s office.”
My stomach twisted. Coffee.
Once upon a ti, I had thought coffee would save .
Back when I was desperate to soften his heart, I had studied his taste in it like it was sacred. Strong, but not bitter. Smooth, with the faintest trace of cinnamon. I practiced for weeks, my hands blistered, tongue burned, until finally... just finally... he had looked up from his desk after tasting it and said nothing, but drained the cup dry.
That was the only approval he had ever given . And I clung to it like a starving wolf to scraps.
But I had been wrong. He didn’t like . He only liked the coffee. I was a convenience, not a mate.
Even now, he never asked directly. His orders always ca through Jake. Always distance. Always walls.
I don’t know why I obeyed this ti. Maybe habit. Maybe the ghost of hope I still hated myself for carrying. I brewed it carefully, my hands steady even though my heart wasn’t. Two cups. One for him, and I knew instantly who the second was for.
The walk to his office felt endless. My legs were heavy, my palms damp against the tray. His door was open. The mistake was mine, I looked when I shouldn’t have.
And that was when the world ended.
Sienna. Sitting on his lap. His hand on her waist. Their mouths pressed together like mine had never been welco to.
I froze, air knocked clean from my lungs. The tray shook in my grip, porcelain rattling like the bones of a corpse. For a second, I prayed I was imagining it, but then she saw . She pulled away, color flooding her face as she scrambled off him, smoothing her skirt.
But Dante... Dante didn’t even flinch. His eyes t mine, cold as winter steel.
“Who told you you could walk in here?”
The words sliced open. I clutched the tray tighter. “I... I just ca to bring you coff—”
“That’s enough, Secretary Elodie.”
Chad’s voice behind made jolt. He looked at like I was dirt beneath his shoes. “This is tasteless of you.”
Tasteless. As if I had planned this. As if I’d known she’d be here and walked in on purpose. As if I was still desperate enough to claw for scraps of Dante’s attention.
And Dante believed it. I could see it in his face, the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes hardened, disgust replacing indifference.
The tray shook harder. The coffee sloshed, spilling over the rim onto my fingers. The burn seared into my skin, sharp and hot, but I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t let myself flinch.
Chad’s voice was colder this ti. “Please leave imdiately.”
My throat burned, my vision blurred, but I forced myself to move. One step. Then another. The sound of porcelain rattling was the only proof I was still holding the tray.
I had just crossed the threshold when his voice cut through the silence.
“If there’s a next ti, Elodie... don’t bother coming back to the company.”
My chest caved in. I stopped, just for a second. The words hollowed out completely, like claws ripping into what little was left. I wanted to scream at him that I didn’t care anymore, that I was leaving, that the divorce papers were already ready. But my voice betrayed . Nothing ca out.
So I walked away, my burned fingers throbbing, my heart breaking into several pieces that I knew would never, ever be fixed again.
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