“Of course,” Isabelle said, her smile returning, but it was colder now. “I just wanted to remind you, Dante, that not everything can be replaced.”
I didn’t know what she meant, but I didn’t care. I was done.
Dante turned to me, his face softening. “Let’s go,” he said, his tone different now—urgent, almost protective.
We stood up in sync, the chair scraping against the floor as we left the table. Dante’s hand stayed at my back, guiding me away from the tension and Isabelle and her unspoken threats.
As we walked, my thoughts were a whirlwind. What was going on between them? What was he hiding from me? And why did I feel like I was slipping further into his world, which I wasn’t sure I belonged in?
Once outside, the cool night air hit me like a slap, grounding me. Dante’s steps were fast and purposeful, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between us.
“Dante,” I said, stopping in my tracks.
He turned, his brow furrowed, his eyes searching mine. “What is it?”
“I can’t keep pretending,” I whispered, the words tasting bitter as they left my mouth. “I can’t keep pretending that this is just a job or a game or whatever it is you want it to be. You’re not who you seem to be.”
He exhaled sharply, the frustration clear in his gaze. “What are you saying, Karen?”
“I’m saying that I’m not going to let you use me,” I said, my voice trembling despite my efforts to remain strong. “I’m not some pawn in your game. I have a life. I have Gabriel.”
His face hardened, but something shifted in his eyes. He stepped toward me, his hands gripping my arms gently this time. “Karen,” he said, his voice low. “I’m not using you. I never was.”
I shook my head, pulling away from him. “Then why do I feel like I’m losing myself in this mess you’ve created?”
He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “I was going to give this to you after dinner, but maybe it’s better now.”
I stared at the envelope, confused. “What is this?”
“Open it,” he said, his voice tight, the vulnerability creeping into his expression.
I tore it open, pulling out the contents—a contract. My heart dropped as I read the words but couldn’t process them fully. My mind was racing, my pulse pounding.
Dante was already speaking before I could speak. “It’s the end of our contract. We’re done. But… I need you to know that I want this to be real, Karen. This… us. All of it.”
I looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes now—something that wasn’t just business but cold calculation.
Something raw. Something real.
I didn’t know what to say. My breath caught, and for a moment, I thought I might crumble into him, into the weight of everything.
But I didn’t. Instead, I swallowed the knot in my throat and stepped back.
“I’ll need time,” I whispered.
And for the first time since I met him, Dante didn’t argue. He nodded as if he understood this was the only thing I could say.
“I’ll give you all the time you need,” he said quietly, his voice softer.
And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to walk away from him—or if I could ever truly leave.
But I knew this much: things had changed. And nothing would ever be the same.
