His Alpha Regret and Returned Queen 83

Chapter 83: She Looked At Me Like A Monster 

Dante’s POV 

Rossi’s jewelry store sat in the upscale district. The door was unlocked when I arrived, and Rossi appeared almost instantly, his wife, Suraya, right behind him. 

They had been married for over thirty years, had built this business together from nothing, and understood discretion better than anyone I knew. 

“Don Dante,” Rossi greeted me with a respectful nod, his accent still carrying traces of his Italian heritage.” Thank you for your patience. We came as quickly as we could.” 

“Don,” Suraya added, her dark eyes assessing me with the kind of maternal concern that made me uncomfortable. “It’s good to see you, though the hour is…….. unusual.” 

“I need an engagement ring,” I said without preamble. 

The shock on Suraya’s face was almost comical. Her eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly before she caught herself. But I could see it in her eyes; she did not believe I would move on so fast. It had only been over five years since Esme’s death. 

If only she knew. 

“Of course,” Rossi said smoothly, though I caught the glance he exchanged with his wife. “Please, follow us.” 

They led me through the main showroom into a private vault, a room reserved only for elite clients. Inside were million–dollar rings, each one flawless and extravagant. 

Rossi pointed to a massive diamond solitaire. “Five carats, flawless clarity. Three–point–two million. Bold and stunning, a true statement piece.” 

Suraya lifted another. “Six–carat emerald cut with side stones. Four million. Classic, timeless. No woman could say no to it.” 

I looked them over. Beautiful, sure, but nothing stood out. 

Then I saw it. 

At the far end, half–hidden behind the rest, was a ring unlike any of them. A deep green emerald surrounded by diamonds, vivid and alive with color. 

“How about this one?” I pointed. 

Rossi and Suraya looked at each other, and I caught a passing concern between them. 

“Don,” Rossi started carefully, “that one is……. it’s specially customized for…” 

“I want it.” 

For some reason, all the other rings, while undeniably beautiful, felt generic. Mass–produced luxury for people who measured worth in carats and clarity alone. 

But that emerald ring stood out. It was different. Unique. Defiant in its refusal to conform to the traditional 

diamond solitaire expectation. 

Just like Gianna. 

I just knew it was perfect for her. A rare piece for a rare woman, whether she wanted to be mine or not. 

“Don, these other ones…” Rossi gestured to the more traditional pieces, clearly uncomfortable. 

“That emerald ring is commissioned for a sheikh,” Suraya finished gently. “He has been waiting three months for it. The emerald alone took six months to source. It’s…” 

“How much is he paying?” I cut her off. 

Rossi cleared his throat. “It’s about three million dollars.” 

“I’ll double it. Six million.” I met his eyes, my expression leaving no room for negotiation. “Customize something else for the sheikh’s wife. Better than that one. How about that?” 

Rossi’s eyes widened, and I could see the mental calculation happening behind them. Six million for a ring that cost three. The kind of profit that could fund his retirement. 

“Oh, Don, that’s……. that’s wonderful. Then it’s all yours.” The words came out in a rush of excitement and 

relief. 

“I’ll just have to get it ready. Clean it, resize if needed, prepare the certification and documentation.” He was already moving toward another room with the ring, treating it like the valuable artifact it was. 

Alone with Suraya, I felt her eyes on me, assessing, questioning. She had known Esme. Had helped me pick out her engagement ring all those years ago, had attended our wedding, and had sent flowers and condolences when she died. 

“Who is the lucky girl?” she asked softly, her voice careful. “I hope she realizes how fortunate she is to be with a man like you.” 

I met her gaze, and a dark feeling moved through me. It had nothing to do with love and everything to do with possession and control and the absolute certainty that Gianna Giovanni belonged to me, whether she agreed or 

not. 

“She has no choice.” 

The words came out emotionless. 

Suraya’s expression shifted between surprise and concern, but she was too smart to push. Too experienced with men like me to question what she did not understand. 

Rossi returned with a black velvet box, opening it to reveal the emerald ring nestled inside. Even in the dim light of the vault, it blazed with green fire. 

** 

“Beautiful,” I murmured, taking the box. 

“Indeed,” Rossi agreed. “She’s a very lucky woman.” 

I did not correct him. Did not explain that luck had nothing to do with it. 

2/5 

I paid in full, watched the transaction process on his secure terminal, and left with the ring in my pocket and murder in my heart. 

Gianna would wear this ring. She would be mine. 

Soon I was at the estate. 

The gates opened as I approached. I got out of the car, and Franco met me in the driveway, looking like he had been through hell. His eyes were red–rimmed. 

Like he had drunk too much or just woken up, and that was unlike Franco. Even at this hour, he was usually put together and alert. That was why he was my head of security. 

“Franco, get the guards to unload everything from my car and set it up in the lower room.” 

It was a room I kept locked, reserved for lessons no one wanted to learn twice. 

He barked orders and moved like a man trying to obey and buy forgiveness with speed. Men ran to the garage, taking the bags out. Franco came back to me, all ragged breath and apology waiting to spill. 

“How did this happen?” I demanded, furious but controlling my anger to make sense of everything. I pointed at Franco and the rest of the guards standing around. “How did she manage to get past all of you?” 

Franco’s mouth opened and closed, no explanation coming out. He swayed slightly, and that was when I caught it, the faint smell of whiskey. 

“Have you been drinking?” 

He had the decency to look ashamed. “Maybe a few glasses, Don. I apologize, I…” 

Anger surged through me. That was how she managed to sneak past him. If Franco was drunk, then the other security was probably no better. No wonder she got away. 

“You were drunk while guarding the estate?” The words came out like a roar. “You put my entire operation at risk because you could not stay sober for one night while I was gone?” 

“Don, I’m sorry, I…” 

“I’ll deal with you later.” I cut him off with a slash of my hand. “Where the hell is Alfonso?” 

“He’s in…” Franco started, but I cut him off again and started walking. It was not like he had been watching over her. Where the hell was he hours ago? 

“Where is she held?” I asked. 

“In the holding room, east wing, basement level.” 

I pushed past him and headed down to the lower levels of the estate. The holding room was designed for questioning people, for breaking people who needed breaking. 

I had never imagined I would use it on her. 

3/5 

Franco followed at a distance, stammering apologies I did not want to hear. “Get out of my way,” I snapped when he tried to enter ahead of me. 

I shoved open the door and paused. 

Gianna was tied to a chair in the center of the room, her wrists bound behind her back, ankles tied to the chair legs. But it was the cut on her forehead that made my vision go red, a gash above her left eyebrow, dried blood streaking down her temple. 

Someone had hit her. Someone had dared to put their hands on her and draw blood. 

The sight punched something deep inside me, something I did not want to feel. I had told myself I wanted revenge, that I would make her pay for everything. But seeing her like that, bruised, still, vulnerable, it twisted me up inside. My chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. 

The thought of anyone hurting her, of her being knocked unconscious, tore through me like fire. Rage came first, but under it…….. something softer, something dangerous. 

My revenge could wait. First, I had to deal with the bastard who laid a hand on her. 

“Who the fuck,” I roared as I strode in, “had the nerve to lay a finger on her?” 

Franco flinched. “It was the new security guard, Leo. When she tried to fight during the capture, he…” 

“He knocked her out?” The words came out in a growl that barely sounded human. 

Gianna stirred at the sound of my voice, her eyes opening, confused and unfocused. She tried to move, realized she was tied up, and panic flashed across her face. Then she saw me. 

“Dante?” she croaked. 

I raised my finger, shushing her, and good thing she obeyed and did not argue, just sat there, eyes wild, lips closed, because I was not in the mood to be messed with. 

Then I turned to Franco with murder in my eyes. “Where is this Leo? Where is he right now?” 

“Outside, but Don…” 

“Bring him here. Now.” 

Franco nodded. Then two guards ran down the hallway. The seconds felt long and painful. 

They hauled Leo into the room, face already bruised, one eye swelling, lips split. No surprise, Gianna did not go down without a fight. I trusted that she would never make it easy on anyone. 

He tried to stand up straight when he saw me, but my fist hit his jaw before he could speak. He crumpled like paper and hit the floor with a thud. 

“You hit her.” I hauled him up from the floor by the collar and drove him into the wall. “You put your hands on her and drew blood.” 

“I…” he gurgled from the floor. “I didn’t mean to…….. she was fighting, Don. She hit me in the groin and I……. I was just following protocol. I hit to restrain her.” 

4/5 

MJE KORIDO 

I drove a fist into his gut. He doubled over. “Protocol doesn’t include hitting a woman half your size.” 

“Don, please…” he begged. 

“Shut up.” I threw him to the floor and looked at the others. “No one, ever, lays a hand on her. Not for any reason. Not for resistance, not for protocol. You restrain, you call me. You understand?” I looked at every guard in the room until their eyes dropped. 

“Y–yes, Don,” they murmured, all of them. 

Leo was on the floor, groaning, clutching his jaw. “I’m sorry, Don. It won’t happen again. I swear…” 

“It better not.” My voice was cold. “Next time, it won’t be an apology. It’ll be a bullet.” I leaned close enough that he could feel the breath on his face. “Get his things. Get him off my property tonight. He’s lucky he’s breathing.” 

Franco barked orders, and the men moved fast, hauling Leo to his feet and dragging him out. He would be cleaned up, patched, and sent away, lucky to still be breathing. 

I turned back to the chair. 

Gianna’s eyes were now wide and raw, terror etched in every line of her face. When she saw me, she flinched as if she had seen a monster. 

I walked over and crouched in front of her. Her wrists were red and bruised where the ropes had cut in, the dried blood on her forehead forming a dark streak. She was shaking all over. 

I unfastened the clasps one by one, wrists first, then ankles. When the last strap fell away, she tried to stand and her legs gave out. 

I reached for her instinctively, but she flinched and pulled back, eyes wide and pleading. 

I did not relent. I lifted her into my arms, her body was rigid, trembling against me. Fear shivered in her whole frame. I did not care. She did not know what was coming next, but she would soon. 

COIN BUNDLE: get more free bonus