It's the possibility of gentleness.
Of hands that touch to worship rather than to own.
I close my eyes as the memory of Cristian's fingers against my skin returns.
His breath had caught when I pressed against him.
For those fleeting moments, power had shifted, not through force but through desire.
What will Maksim's touch feel like in comparison?
Will he notice if I flinch?
Will he care if I cry?
Or will he take pleasure in my discomfort?
My throat tightens, and tears threaten again as reality crashes around me.
This marriage is happening.
My virginity will be claimed by Maksim, whether I want it or not.
I look from my bed to the vanity mirror.
The woman staring back is lost.
Perhaps that's fitting.
The Valentina who dreamed of something more is already dead.
What I wouldn't give to disappear.
To walk out the front door and keep walking until I'm somewhere no one knows the Dante name.
Somewhere I could be anonymous, ordinary, free to make my own choices.
To love whom I want.
Cristian's face flashes again in my mind.
The way he looked at me in the car before duty reasserted itself.
For those precious moments, I glimpsed what might have been.
A life where I'm cherished.
I press my palms against my eyes to get rid of the images replaying.
These fantasies are painful.
There's no running from this. Alessandro would find me. Maksim would hunt me.
And anyone who helped me would pay with their life.
I am a Dante before I am Valentina.
Like Cristian, I have a duty, a greater duty, as I’m bound by blood to protect the family.
