Chapter 79: What If She Was Here
Dante’s POV
The house felt different coming home tonight, maybe because my chest was heavier. The men at the gate nodded as I passed, their eyes already sliding away from the small smears of blood on my sleeve. I dismissed Bruno to go about his business. Most weeks I spent with my family, I left Bruno to have his personal life. He worked so hard for me that I knew he deserved breaks as well, to do as he pleased.
The front door closed behind me, and there was Seline, my sister–in–law, on the stairs. She must have seen me on the monitors or heard the car because she was already coming down, hair loose and a hand pressed to her chest. She was the last person I wanted to see.
“Nice of you to show up,” she scoffed, her voice tight.
My eyes narrowed, tired. “Seline, that’s not exactly the welcome I expected.”
She folded her arms, eyes hard. “Oh, come on, Dante. You show up after weeks, and you look like hell.”
She gestured at me like it was obvious. I followed her gaze and knew she was right. My shirt was rumpled, and a smear of blood still clung to my sleeve. I probably looked like I’d been in a fight. She had no idea I’d just dealt with Mateo.
Seline moved closer and blocked my path on the stairs, not letting me pass. “What if Arielle sees you like that?” she demanded.
“Then move, Seline,” I ordered. “Make way so I can clean up.‘”
She reached out and touched my face, gentle and furious at once. “Dante, I’m worried. You’ll get yourself killed.”
I pulled back from her hand. “That’s not going to happen,” I said, stepping slightly away. “Not before I put a bullet in Lorenzo.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “How long,” she exploded “will this madness go on? This quest for revenge is eating you alive. Can’t you see? Arielle needs you. I need you.”
“I’m only asking for more time.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “That’s all.”
Her voice went smaller, raw. “While you ask for time, I’m left to mother her while she grows up without a father.”
“Don’t say that when you know I’m right here,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
“A father she rarely sees,” she cut in bitterly. “Maybe once every three months if she’s lucky, if he’s not busy chasing ghosts.”
The accusation cut deep, maybe because there was some truth to it. “I’m really close.”
I told her about Mateo, about the warehouse, about the confession. I wanted to say I was close, that everything would change, and I did.
“Today my men found Lorenzo’s money man,” I said. “He onfirmed transfers. Lorenzo is still alive. He’s giving orders.”
Her accusation made me feel guilty, maybe because there was a certain truth to it. She didn’t understand how far we’d come, the blood and pain it had taken to get here. I was close. Really close.
“I’ve heard that a thousand times before,” Seline said, disbelief written all over her face. “And it always leads to the same dead end.” Her voice softened. “Lorenzo is dead, ante. You need to let go of the pain, the vengeance, all of it.”
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Chapter 79 What She Was Here
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“No, he isn’t,” I snapped, anger flaring, not just at her but at the years of pain burning through me. My throat tightened, that familiar heat rising, the kind that came every time I had to prove why I needed to do this.
“Today my men found Lorenzo’s money man,” I repeated. He confirmed the transfers. He’s still giving orders. That means Lorenzo is alive. He’s moving money, Seline. He’s not dead.”
“He’s really alive?” she breathed.
I nodded once.
The sound she let out started like a small breath and broke into a sob. It came suddenly, tearing out of her before she could stop it. She doubled over, palms clamped to her face, shoulders shaking.
Watching her fall apart tore through me, dragging up everything I’d buried–Esmeralda’s face, my daughter’s cries, the ruins of what used to be my family. It hit me all over again that I’d failed, failed to protect all of them.
I pulled her into my arms, and she grabbed onto my shirt like it was the only thing holding her up.
“I miss my sister every day,” she cried into my shoulder, her voice raw. “That bastard Lorenzo deserves everything coming to him.”
She lifted her head, tears streaking her cheeks, and looked at me with a question in her eyes, hope wrapped in fear. “But Dante, if you kill him, will it end? Will we finally move on? We deserve peace, you, me, Arielle.”
I felt the pressure of it all. Every plan, every promise, everything I’d fought for was riding on this.
“I miss her too,” I admitted quietly. “Every moment.” My hands tightened on her shoulders. “When I make him pay, when I finish this, it will end.”
She searched my face like she needed proof.
“Then, after?” she whispered. “Will we finally be a family?”
I swallowed hard, unsure if that life was ever going to be possible.
“Once I kill Lorenzo, we’ll take it from there.”
By the time I came downstairs, the scent of dinner had already filled the house.
Before I could reach my chair, a blur of brown hair and teenage energy launched itself at me.
“Dad!”
Arielle crashed into my chest, her arms wrapping around my waist with the kind of overwhelming affection only a daughter could give. I caught her instinctively, one hand selling on her back, the other smoothing down her hair.
“Hey, Princess.” My voice softened in a way it never did during work hours. “Miss me?”
She pulled back, grinning up at me with those eyes–Esme’s eyes. “Always. You were gone forever this time.”
“Two months,” I corrected, guiding her back to her seat before taking my own at the head of the table.
“Exactly. Forever.” She rolled her eyes dramatically as I sat down, and I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.
Seline watched us from across the table, her expression warn but with something I’d been actively ignoring for
years.
“How was your trip overall?” she asked, pouring wine into my glass.
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“Productive.” I didn’t elaborate. I never did. “What did I miss here?”
“Oh my God, Dad, so much!” Arielle bounced in her seat, already launching into a story about her biology teacher who apparently had “the worst fashion sense in human history” and a pop quiz that “literally everyone failed except me as always.”
I listened, genuinely interested, as she animated her way through stories about school, her friends, and some drama involving the drama team. This, her laughter, her vajce, her being alive and safe, was what I worked for. What I killed for.
“And then,” she continued, cutting into her chicken, “there’s this guy in my English class…”
My fork paused halfway to my mouth. “Guy?”
“Oh boy,” Seline murmured, hiding a smile behind her wine glass.
“His name’s Tyler, and he’s actually really sweet. He asked if I wanted to study together for the midterm…”
“No.”
Arielle blinked. “No, what?”
“No boys. For a very long time.”
“Dad!”
“Especially no boys named Tyler.”
“You don’t even know him!”
“I know enough. I know he’s a teenage boy, which means I know exactly what he’s thinking.” I pointed my fork at her for emphasis. “And the answer is no.”
Seline cleared her throat delicately, drawing both our attention. “Dante, she’s old enough for crushes. It’s normal.”
“Normal doesn’t mean safe.”
“It’s just studying!” Arielle protested.
“That’s what they all say, Princess.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being a father.”
We stared at each other across the table, a battle of wills I’d definitely lose eventually but wasn’t ready to concede yet. Finally, Arielle huffed and went back to her dinner, muttering something about “overprotective” and ” medieval.”
Seline’s lips twitched with amusement. “She has a point, you know.”
I shot her a look. “Don’t take her side.”
“I’m not taking sides. I’m being realistic. She’s fourteen, Dante. You can’t lock her in this tower forever.”
“Watch me.”
Arielle giggled, and just like that, the tension eased. We slipped into easier conversation, and for the first time in weeks, I actually felt relaxed. This was what life was supposed to be, warm, simple and real.
Still, something was missing.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
