The words pierce something in my heart. I would never hurt that little girl.
“Dante, please—”
“You think this is a game? That you can write your little story and walk away?” He takes a step closer, and I feel the tremor of fury in him. “You just made my daughter a headline, Isabella!”
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I force the words out anyway. “I didn’t do this! I swear to you—I didn’t.”
He slams the paper down on the table, every word venomous. “They printed details no one could know withoutyou.Business deals. Names. Deaths. You tell me how thathappened.”
“I don’t know!” My voice cracks. “I didn’t write that story. Someone used my name.”
He stares at me for a long, brutal second, his expression unreadable. Then he shakes his head slowly, as if he doesn’t know whether to break something or walk away.
“You don’t understand what you’ve done,” he says finally, voice low, trembling with restrained rage. “You didn’t just expose me. You exposedher.”
He gestures toward Sofia—tiny, confused, watching us both like she can feel the storm she can’t see.
“I didn’t—”
“But you did,” he says, each word clipped. “And now every enemy I’ve ever made knows exactly where to find us.”
The silence that follows feels like punishment.
Finally, he turns away, jaw clenched so tight I can hear it grind.
“Nicole,” he says, voice low. “Take Sofia to her room.”
“Papà?” Sofia’s voice trembles.
“Now, Principessa.”
Nicole moves fast, ushering the girl out, murmuring soft reassurances that sound like lies.
When they’re gone, Dante looks back at me.
The man standing in front of me isn’t the one who made me coffee this morning.
He’s the Don.
Every inch of him is sharp and lethal again.
And the way he looks at me—like he’s torn between killing me and pulling me into his arms—breaks me more than the accusation itself.
“I trusted you,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have.”
“Dante—”
He cuts me off. “Don’t. I can’t even look at you right now.”
And then he walks away.
The door slams behind him, the sound echoing through the house likegunfire.
Chapter 14
The moment the door slams behind me, the noise feels too small for the anger inside my chest.
I can still see her face.
