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He shakes his head again and I look at him for a long moment before I bolt toward the back door. Alberto chases me, but I’m light on my feet and I make it there before him.
He grabs me around the waist, hurting my ribs, and I kick and scream, dragging my new nails across Alberto’s forearm.
He hisses as they break the flesh and lets me go.
I run toward the car and make it just as he’s trying to open the passenger side door. I burn rubber pulling out of the garage, my head spinning, heart racing.
I feel sick to my stomach. I don’t know what to do. Do I go to find Dante, or go straight to my father?
If I go to my father, he’s likely to have Dante killed. Maybe I should want that for the way that he’s hurt me, but I don’t. God help me, I’m still in love with him. My vision blurs out as I’m driving and I swerve, sniffling, trying to get myself together.
But then sobs start catching in my throat and I can’t stop them. I pull over on the side of the road, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. Alberto will be right behind me, but I don’t care. I can’t seem to stop sobbing.
I know that Dante didn’t originally marry me for love, but I thought he’d grown to love me. I thought that we’d grown to love each other, and I’ve never felt so heartbroken.
Instead of Alberto driving up, though, it’s Dante in his sportscar and I throw the car back into gear when he gets out of the car, some part of me wanting to run him down, suddenly so angry I can barely see straight.
Instead, though, he puts both hands on the car hood and I can’t do it, turning off the car and covering my face, crying into my hands.
Dante gets in the passenger seat.
“Mia, what’s wrong? What happened?” he asks, and I hitch in a sob and look at him, tears streaming down my face. Something in his face softens and he puts out a hand to touch me.
I wrench away from him.
“Don’t you fucking touch me,” I say hoarsely, and Dante looks stricken.
“What’s going on, Mia?”
“You don’t love me,” I sob. “You’ve never loved me and you never will.”
“Mia, what are youtalkingabout?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Dante. I know now why you married me. I know that you just wanted to get close to my father, so you can kill him!”
“Mia…” he starts.
“Did you ever feel anything for me?”
Dante’s quiet for a long moment and I shove him. Anger flashes across his face.
“How could I?” he snaps back, every word from his mouth shattering my heart. “How could I ever love you when I know what your father did?”
I just stare at him, shell-shocked. He’s finally admitted it, but all that happens is that I feel a void in my chest, like he’s ripped my heart out.
Dante takes in a deep breath. “He killed my father, Mia. Both my parents. What am I supposed to do? Just let that go?”
His words rush over me in a wave. All this time, he thought that my father killed his. I stare at him and the tears just keep coming.
“It wasn’t my father who killed Enzo. Or your mother,” I say quietly.
Dante scoffs, looking away from me, breathing hard. “You don’t know that. You just want to believe the best about your father, but he’s as cut-throat as any other wiseguy.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I say quietly, slowly beginning to feel numb. I guess I can’t feel that depth of emotion for very long without shutting down. I wipe tears from my face. “But when Vincenzo kidnapped me, I overheard his men talking about how Vincenzo would kill you like he did your parents.”
“No, you didn’t,” Dante says, going pale.
“Yes, I did. I didn’t tell you because you were injured and I didn’t want you to go off and kill Vincenzo and all his men,” I say calmly. I’m done with this conversation. Dante lied to me, over and over, the whole time we were together.
