"That's so sweet," Anya sighs.
It is. It truly is, and I want something like that so badly.
Maybe I had it.
I think of grocery shopping. Of pancakes and Twinkies. Of the way Dante held me while I cried. Of how he married me to keep me safe.
Mirella stands gracefully. "Polina, would you help me in the kitchen for a moment?"
I follow her out, grateful for the reprieve.
The kitchen is sleek and modern, all stainless steel and marble. Mirella doesn't bother with the pretense of needing help. She turns to face me, arms crossed.
"I saw the bruises," she says quietly. “I noticed a couple of times, but I wasn’t sure… That’s a terrible excuse. I should have done something sooner."
My face heats with shame. "You didn't?—"
"I did." Her expression is gentle but firm. "And I'm sorry I didn't intervene. I'm sorry I didn't pull you aside that night. “If I had, maybe?—”
Tears prick at my eyes. "I wouldn't have told you the truth anyway."
"I understand.” She reaches out, squeezes my hand. "You didn't know who you could trust."
Again, I think of Dante. I could always trust him. That much I know with absolute certainty.
Mirella studies me for a long moment. "You know, Gavril told me something interesting."
I blink. "What?"
"When your father insisted you'd been kidnapped, Dante refused to return you."
My heart stutters. "What?"
"He was ready to go to war over you." Mirella's lips curve into a small smile. "Your father was very convincing. The transaction took place away from security cameras. It wasn’t until I told Gavril I was certain you were being mistreated that he was willing to deal.”
I can barely process what she's saying. "Dante was going to...fight the Bratva?"
"Oh, yes." Mirella's smile widens. "He was not going to give you back no matter what. Girl, that man adores you."
My breath catches.
"I don't know what happened between you two," she continues, "but I do know how a man who's in love behaves. And Dante Corsini? He is head over heels in love with you."
Later, as I walk home in a daze, Mirella's words echo in my head.
Head over heels in love with you.
I think of the way he looked at me sometimes.
Is it true? Could it be true?
He never said he loved me. Never hinted at it.
But, maybe?—
Movement in my periphery snaps me back to alertness.
A man.
