My question is breathless. “When?”
Regret passes through his eyes. His tone is quiet. Too quiet. “She was alive when I got to the car wreck. She died a few minutes later before help could arrive.” He doesn’t shy away from driving the stake in deeper. “She died in my arms. I did what I could to make her comfortable.”
On the outside, I’m frozen, but on the inside, I’m shaking so hard I think I’ll fall apart piece by piece with no possibility of ever glueing them back together.
“Why?” My voice is nothing but a whisper. “Why would she tell you that?”
“Because I told her why I wanted the necklace.”
Incapable of forming a single word, I can only look at him as shock ravishes me.
“I’m sorry, Tatiana.”
Those pitiful words do something to me. They unleash the ugly grief that’s tearing into my chest and shredding me alive, turning my helpless sorrow into uncontrollable anger.
Pulling back my arm, I slap him hard enough to make his face fly sideways.
As if the violence unlocked my immobile state, the shaking extends to my whole body. The bones rattle inside me. My teeth chatter so hard that blood fills my mouth as I bite the insides of my cheeks.
When he looks back at me, my handprint lies red across his cheek, disappearing into his five-o’clock stubble. I want him to fight back so I can punch him and hurt him like I’m hurting, but he only remains there on the spot, taking my assault stoically.
“I deserved that.” He lays a hand over his cheek. “Have a go at it again. Get it out of your system but we need to move now because we’re running out of time.”
“There is no us, Dante.” The overwhelming rage for the injustice suffocating me carries on my voice. “The only one who’s running out of time is you. The only one moving on is you.” I get into his personal space. “Stay away from me, and stay away from Noah.” I point a shaky finger at him as if it’s a weapon I’m waving in his face. “I’ll get a restraining order if you come near me again. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me. I’ll go as far as I have to.”
He grabs my arm and pulls me behind him to the door. “So will I. I’m sorry, Tatiana, but there’s no other way.”
I dig in my heels, but it doesn’t help. Dante scoops me up into his arms and carries me across the room and down the hallway. I fight him all the way, struggling so hard that one of my shoes drop off on the stairs. He doesn’t stop to let me retrieve it. He’s like a beast with only one purpose in mind.
The banging of pots and pans comes from the kitchen at the back of the house where Jazz is preparing dinner. I don’t scream for help because I don’t want to wake Noah. I don’t want him to see his father, whom he adores, carrying me out of the house against my will like this.
On the porch, he puts me down. The moment my feet touch the ground, I run. I don’t care where to. I just need to get away from him and his lies and from the pain that’s tearing me apart.
The stockings Dante made me wear catch on the pebbles in the path that leads through the water features. Holes tear into the sheer silk of my shoeless foot. Dante’s men stand around uncertainly, their expressions surprised as I make a beeline for the gates.
The crunching of Dante’s shoes sounds too close behind me on the gravel of the driveway. I pump my arms, putting all my effort into it, but my speed is broken brutally when he locks his fingers around my arm.
Using every ounce of strength I possess, I manage to break free. The momentum flings me forward, making me lose my balance. I go down on all fours, gravel digging into the skin of my palms and knees.
Before I can find my bearings, I’m lifted into a strong pair of arms. My lungs and eyes burn. Everything hurts—my broken skin, my pride, and most of all, my heart.
Dante carries me swiftly to the front of the house where Kent stands next to one of the cars. Kent opens the back door without sparing me a glance. Dante manhandles me inside. He’s scarcely buckled my seatbelt and gotten in next to me before Kent takes off with screeching tires.
A car with guards pulls off ahead. Another one follows.
“Where to?” Kent asks.
Dante’s reply is clipped. “Just drive.”
Kent cuts me a hostile look in the rearview mirror.
Turning my face toward the window, I hug myself and huddle against the door. I’m thinking about jumping out as soon as we’re outside the property, but a click announces the activation of the automatic door locks.
“Talk, Tatiana,” Dante says.
Tears I don’t want to shed roll over my cheeks.
“Talk,” Dante says again. “Tell Kent where to go because I don’t want to make you.”
