Dante’s POV
Seline closed the distance between us, her pleading eyes locked onto mine.
“Please,” she whispered, “let this go. For Esmeralda.”
“No.” My voice intensified. “You don’t get to tell me to let this go.” My palm slammed against the desk, the sound cracking through the room. “You weren’t there when I found out Arielle and Esmeralda were missing. You didn’t feel that panic, knowing I might never see them again. And when I finally did…”
My throat burned. “When I finally saw them, that bastard shot at Esme as she ran to me. Over and over.”
Her eyes widened. I didn’t stop.
“You didn’t see him smile with those damn golden teeth while she fell right here.” I jabbed a finger toward the floor. “She died in my arms, Celine. Your sister bled out while I begged her to stay alive, for us.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”
“You never mean to,” I cut in coldly. “Let me make this clear, I don’t care if it takes fifty years. I’ll wait as long as it takes to put a bullet in Vincenzo’s skull.”
The air in the room felt suffocating. I turned away from her, my chest tight, needing space. She was forcing me to relive memories I’d buried deep, ones I wasn’t ready to bleed out again.
I felt her step closer. Her hands rested lightly on my shoulders, as if she could anchor me there. “I’m still here, Dante. You still have me.”
She turned me toward her, reaching for my face. I pulled back before her fingers could touch me.
She didn’t understand. She never would. She thought time and love could stitch this wound shut. But I lived with the guilt every day, and it was mine to carry. I had brought Vincenzo into our lives. That blood was on my hands.
Her voice was barely a whisper. “None of this was your fault. You’ve punished yourself long enough. It’s time to let go of the pain.”
“I can’t.” My voice cracked. “Every night I close my eyes, I see her… calling out to me for help…” The words broke in my throat.
Her gaze searched mine. “Then let me in.”
She reached for me again, leaning in… but I stepped back.
“Let us in,” she corrected softly. “Arielle. Let Arielle in. She needs you.”
She knew it was my weakness. And she was using it.
“Just stay the week,” she pleaded. “At least, please.”
I shook my head. I needed to go back to Gia. I needed to finish what I’d started with Gianna, the daughter of the man who had stolen everything from me. Arielle was safe here. Guarded. Protected.
“No.” My voice was final. “I leave tonight.”
“Dante… please…”
“That’s enough,” I said, turning away. “Celine… please. I’d like to be alone.”
She stood there for a long moment, disappointment and grief written across her face. She looked like she wanted to say more, but in the end… she just walked away.
When Seline left earlier, I needed a few minutes to cool off. My mind was still burning with the conversation, but I forced myself to push it aside.
I went to my daughter’s room. The door was half-open, and soft music drifted out.
She was stretched out on the bed, propped against a pillow, her laptop open and a pair of AirPods in. Her foot tapped lazily to the beat.



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