Chapter 2

Selena’s POV

The office door stood slightly ajar.

A relentless series of sharp crashes came from inside.

Through the gap, I saw the absurd scene with perfect clarity.

The antique collection Dante treasured so dearly, the pieces even the servants had to handle with extreme care while cleaning, was being smashed to pieces by Valentina.

Dante didn’t draw his gun.

He didn’t even try to stop her.

He simply bent down and pulled the raging Valentina tightly into his arms.

He let her nails rake across the side of his neck, leaving bloody scratches behind.

Forcing her down onto the couch, he pried open her clenched fingers one by one and took the bloodstained shard of glass from her hand.

The notoriously cold-blooded crime boss then pulled out his personal handkerchief and patiently bandaged her bleeding palm.

“You said you loved me.”

“I don’t love you at all, Valentina. I only hate you.”

His low, hoarse voice was strained with restraint. It sounded less like a warning and more like he was desperately trying to convince himself.

I couldn’t watch any longer.

I shoved the door open.

The metal lipstick tube arced through the air and struck the floor at Dante’s feet.

“If I hadn’t come up here, I would’ve missed quite a show.”

Dante’s tall frame went rigid.

Valentina merely lounged against the back of the couch.

“Selena, if I were you, I’d take the money, get lost, and make room for me.”

With that, she swept out of the office, surrounded by a group of Dante’s men.

The enormous office fell silent, leaving only the two of us.

I stared hard at Dante and realized that his gaze was still following Valentina. It finally settled on the hand wrapped in his handkerchief.

The pain in his dark eyes made my stomach churn.

He looked back at me and tried to smooth everything over with the lipstick.

“Haven’t you always wanted that shade custom-made? I’ll have someone make one especially for you tomorrow.”

I took a step back, putting distance between us.

“No need. Anything engraved with another woman’s name makes me sick.”

Dante rubbed his brow wearily and tried to approach me, using his exhaustion as an excuse.

“Stop being dramatic. Dealing with that crazy woman has already drained every ounce of my energy.”

I refused to back down and pressed him harder.

“She had me kidnapped and taken to an abandoned warehouse. She almost killed me!”

“When you rescued me from her men, I pointed a gun at her, and you said you would kill her yourself.”

“Dante, search your conscience and answer me. Do you really want her dead?”

A suffocating silence filled the room.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he turned, picked up the velvet jewelry box from his desk, and abruptly changed the subject.

“The jewelry for the gala has arrived. Whatever this is about, we’ll discuss it at home.”

I stopped in the doorway and looked at the man who had filled my life with lies.

Then I tested him one last time.

“Are you staying here tonight?”

As always, Dante lied without so much as blinking.

“I have to finalize a contract with the Colombian representatives tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

I turned and took the elevator downstairs.

As I passed the VIP bar in the first-floor lobby, I stopped.

Valentina hadn’t left headquarters at all.

She sat at the bar, pouring hard liquor down her throat and screaming hysterically as she vented her rage.

The men around her were sweating with anxiety, but nothing they said could calm her down.

I looked away coldly.

The moment I stepped out of the building, the facade I had maintained finally shattered.

A man at the top could not rule two women’s worlds at once.

Since he had already made his choice, I would never look back.

I didn’t go home.

Instead, I parked in the shadows near headquarters and waited.

Twenty minutes later, Dante drove out of the underground garage in an inconspicuous sedan.

I followed him all the way to Obsidian Estate, forty miles away.

From outside the estate gates, I watched Dante get out of the car.

Then the passenger door opened.

Valentina, who had been drinking herself senseless at the bar moments earlier, stumbled out reeking of alcohol and fell straight into Dante’s arms.

He didn’t push her away.

He bent down, swept her effortlessly into his arms, and carried her through the estate gates.

I sat in my car across the street, staring at the illuminated second-floor window.

Half an hour later, the bedroom light went out.

But Dante never walked back through those doors.

I didn’t storm inside and make a hysterical scene.

I simply pressed the gas and drove away from that disgusting place alone.

The penthouse was deathly silent in the middle of the night.

I sat alone in the darkened living room.

The priceless necklace meant for the gala lay discarded on the cold floor.

At one in the morning, I finally heard the lock turn.

Dante opened the door, his shirt collar rumpled and disheveled.

When the moonlight revealed me sitting alone in the darkness, he stopped dead.

Without a word, he walked toward me.

His tall body slowly lowered until he was kneeling on one knee on the rug.

He rested his forehead weakly against my knees.

“To... tonight wasn’t what you think.”