My head snaps back like she fired a bullet instead of a perfectly chosen insult.Only a bullet might end my torture instead of bringing it all rushing back, sharp and clear,“I could never be with a man like you.You’re vile.You’re an animal.”
Monica’s final words to me.
A reminder of how I wouldn’t have lost her if I hadn’t pushed her away in the first place.
I wasn’t behind the wheel of the car that killed her, but I might as well have been.She wouldn’t have been with some fast-driving nobody if I didn’t practically shove her into his arms by being who I was.
The hand gripping Sophia’s wrist loosens, and I back away before I can do something unforgivable.“Get out of my sight if you don’t want me to hurt you,” I mutter between ragged breaths.
She’s smart enough to do what she’s told, slamming the door in the other room while I go to the bathroom sink to splash cold water on my face before I tear her to pieces.
Not that it would make a damn bit of difference.
16
SOPHIA
Here I am, back where I started, curled up in the spare bed, staring at the closed door, willing my husband to get the hell out of the house so I can start my morning without the threat of seeing him.
I knew I should have told Dante about the texts from Enzo.They were all innocent from my side.Not that Dante gave me the chance to explain anything without getting all threatening and nasty.Scary.
Which, of course, made me determined to turn him down because the one thing I can’t stand is a bully.I was raised by one, surrounded by them my entire life.The kind of men who think they should get what they want just because they said so.
I knew something else, too, and it makes my heart heavier than ever as I sit up, rubbing a wrist that is still a little sore.He wouldn’t have listened, no matter what I said.
I still haven’t heard a sound from anywhere else in the house by the time I finish going to the bathroom and washing my tear-stained cheeks.It took a while, but I finally cried myself to sleep last night.There’s a haunted look in my eyes by the time I turn away from the mirror over the sink.Everything was going so well too.There I was, humming away in the shower, my heart racing and my body tingling in anticipation, the whole time Dante was melting down.
I can’t stay up here forever.Besides, it’s past eight, and Dante’s usually up at the main house way earlier than this.Probably sitting at his papa’s feet, waiting to be patted on the head.Or maybe he’s up there ranting and raving in a testosterone-fueled haze, demanding Enzo’s head on a platter or something.
It’s when I’m halfway down the stairs that I hear him.The sound of a cup touching the kitchen island freezes my body—except for my heart, now pounding harder and faster than ever.Shit.The man is a goddamn ninja, tricking me into thinking he’s not here.
“Are you going to stand there all day, or are you coming down?”he asks.
I can’t tell what kind of mood he’s in.His voice is flat, without the teeth-grinding rage I heard hours ago.I doubt he’s feeling regretful and generous or that he’s had a huge change of heart.
Well, I’m not going to stand here all day like an idiot.
I am Sophia Vitali Santoro.
I’m stronger than this.
With my head held high, I continue down the stairs, rounding the end of the railing and finding Dante typing intently on a laptop, parked on one of the island stools.He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of soft cotton pants, like he rolled straight out of bed before coming down here to work.
This would be so much easier if I didn’t want him.If I didn’t remember his touch so clearly, and how it makes me feel.How much I was looking forward to being with him last night.Why does he have to be so gorgeous and chiseled?His muscles have muscles, for God’s sake.
And he could hurt you.Yeah, I can’t exactly afford to forget that part.
All of those muscles equal strength, and the slight throb in my wrist is a reminder of how that strength can turn against me.And that’s why I can’t bring myself to get closer.
Instead of crossing the living room and the invisible barrier between it and the kitchen space, I sit in one of the plush armchairs, facing the kitchen.Dante’s seated ninety degrees from me, giving me a look at his stern expression and tightening jaw as he finishes typing whatever it is he’s so busy with.He is really beautiful—a beautiful demon.
My pulse flutters when he closes the laptop, but instead of looking at me, he stares straight ahead before letting out a soft sigh.“I’m going to get in touch with your ex and make sure he knows it’s a smart move to leave you alone from now on.”
He can’t be serious.After everything that went down, this is the first thing he says?“And there I was, thinking I would get an apology,” I murmur.
His growl lifts the hair on the back of my neck while he folds his hands on the countertop and clenches them tight.“That was going to be my next point.”
“You don’t do much apologizing, do you?Usually, that’s what you lead off with the day after you attack somebody.”Rubbing my wrist, I add, “At least there’s no bruising.”
