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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MINERVAHADTAKENherself to her bed and cried herself to sleep after she and Dante had gotten home.
She hadn’t wanted him to be quite so careful with her sexually as he had begun to be, but she hadn’t wanted that either.
It had been physically wonderful. It had left her feeling emotionally hollow.
He had used that position to distance her from him. And when she had looked behind her and established a connection with him, he had been very apparently angry.
She wrapped her arms around herself and looked out at Central Park. It was so cold outside.
She didn’t actually know if it was cold. She hadn’t checked. She hadn’t been outside and she hadn’t looked at anything to see what the temperature actually was.
But she assumed that it was. Because of all that gray.
Maybe the gray was inside her. Because if she stopped staring at it all like one big chunk, she could see the grass, she could see the trees.
But somehow, she couldn’t feel them.
She was upset. And she supposed she didn’t have anyone to blame but herself.
Last night had been a perfect opportunity for her to tell Dante how she felt.
After all, she hadn’t hesitated to tell Chad how she felt.
But then, even though she had stood up for herself in the moment, she had also felt small when he had said those things. Because they echoed inside her.
Because they played at certain insecurities that she had no matter that she had put on a red dress. When it came to mothering Isabella, her confidence had grown.
When it came to other areas of herself... She was still a work in progress.
She sighed heavily, and went to check on Isabella, who was kicking happily in her crib.
She picked her up, and set her in a swing out in the living room so she could gaze out at the park too.
She had a feeling that Isabella didn’t particularly care.
She should be happier. There was no threat on Isabella’s life. The paperwork for the adoption was very nearly finished. Everything was easier because of Dante’s money.
Her father had money, so it wasn’t as though she didn’t know that things were easier when you had it. It was just that Dante wielded his with authority and power, and even when it came to the workings of the upper class, Dante seemed to command a greater amount of attention than those around him.
He was one of those men. Legendary. Whispered about in every room he entered.
And she had been around him all her life.
He had a great impact on her, even with all that familiarity.
She almost felt sorry for women who hadn’t had such long exposure to him.
He was devastating even with it.
Of course, it was more than just physical devastation that she experienced when she looked at him.
She was in the grips of soul-deep devastation. She had no idea what to do with it.
She sighed heavily and turned to the laptop that was sitting on the marble island that separated the kitchen from the living room. She pulled up a homepage, and much to her surprise saw her face staring back at her from the society pages.
She had a triumphant smirk on her face, and she was standing in front of Dante, who was left slightly blurred.
