Chapter 27 – Heartfelt Confession
The mansion's hallway was quieter than usual, the hum of production lights and crew chatter replaced by the soft echo of footsteps and the distant clinking of glassware from the dining hall. Alexis leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her heart still hammering from the confrontation with Dante earlier. Every nerve in her body felt electrified, every lingering glance and accidental touch replaying in her mind like a scene from a movie she couldn't stop watching.
She had tried to convince herself that jealousy alone had set her pulse racing, that it was the absurdity of being filmed, the ridiculousness of this reality show, that made her feel so unreasonably flustered. But deep down, she knew the truth: Dante still had the power to dismantle every carefully constructed wall she'd built around her heart. And, God help her, she wanted him to.
A faint rustle of movement drew her attention. Dante emerged from the shadows near the service stairs, his usual composure softened by something she hadn't seen in months: vulnerability. His eyes caught hers immediately, holding a mix of anticipation, regret, and something raw that made her pulse spike.
"Alexis," he said quietly, stepping closer, his voice lower than usual, as if even speaking might shatter the fragile bubble surrounding them. "Can we… talk?"
She swallowed hard, nodding, though her throat felt tight. The cameras weren't anywhere in sight—at least she hoped they weren't—but every instinct told her this was dangerous territory. And yet, the pull, the magnetism of him, was irresistible.
Dante gestured toward a secluded balcony that overlooked the estate's illuminated gardens. She followed silently, each step heavy with anticipation. The air outside was crisp, scented faintly with jasmine from the meticulously maintained hedges. Moonlight spilled over the stone floor, casting a silver glow that made the entire scene feel unreal, almost cinematic, as if the universe itself was conspiring to create the perfect moment.
Once they reached the balcony, Dante leaned against the railing, eyes fixed on the distant lights but not seeing them. He seemed lost in thought, and for a moment, Alexis wanted to reach out, touch him, reassure him—though she didn't even know why.
"I… I've been thinking," he began, finally glancing at her. His gaze was intense, unwavering. "About us. About what happened."
Alexis's chest tightened. This was the moment she had been avoiding ever since she stepped foot in this house. The conversation that could unravel her carefully curated defenses, the one that could expose everything she had tried to bury.
"I—" she started, but he held up a hand, stopping her before she could stumble over her words.
"No, let me," he said softly. "I never got to tell you how much it hurt. Back then… when I felt you leave. I thought… I thought I'd lost you forever, and I blamed myself. I blamed you. I blamed everything that went wrong. And I didn't… I didn't give you a chance to explain. Or maybe I didn't give myself a chance to listen."
Alexis's lips parted slightly, a fragile sound escaping her. She had expected anger, maybe blame, but not this—this raw honesty. Her heart thudded painfully, each beat echoing in her ears like a drum.
"I thought I could move on," he continued, taking a tentative step closer. "I tried, I really did. But no one… no one made me feel the way you did. And every time I see you… every time I hear your laugh or catch that look in your eyes, I feel it again. That same pull. That same… connection I thought I'd lost forever."
Her walls began to crumble. She had imagined this moment countless times, usually in bursts of frustration, often in the quiet darkness of her apartment when memories of him crept in uninvited. But now that it was real, tangible, she felt exposed in a way that terrified her. She wanted to step back, to protect herself, but every fiber of her being wanted to step closer, to bridge the space between them.
"Dante…" she whispered, the sound barely audible over the gentle night breeze. "I… I thought I was protecting myself by leaving. I thought… if I ran, if I disappeared, I could avoid the heartbreak. But instead, I've spent years replaying every mistake, every word I wish I hadn't said, every moment I should've stayed."
His hand moved almost instinctively toward hers, pausing just an inch away. The proximity made her stomach twist with tension and longing. "Alexis," he said softly, voice tight, "you think I didn't feel the same? I tried to understand why you left, to forgive the sudden void—but I couldn't. Every day without you felt… incomplete. I wanted to reach for you, to fix things, but I didn't know if you'd let me. And I was scared. Scared of losing you again."
Her breath caught. She had always been the strong one, the one to hold everything together, but now she felt fragile, trembling with the realization that he had suffered too, silently, just like her.
"Why didn't you?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Why didn't you reach for me when it mattered?"
Dante stepped closer, closing the distance in a way that made her heart race. His hand brushed hers, tentative but electric, and she felt the spark shoot straight to her chest. "Because I thought I'd be rejected," he admitted, voice low. "Because I thought you'd already moved on. Because… because I didn't know if I could survive losing you twice."
The words landed like a soft confession, a truth neither of them had dared speak before. Alexis's pulse pounded in her ears, and she realized her hands were trembling slightly. Her logical mind screamed at her to retreat, to maintain control, to remember the cameras, the contestants, the absurdity of this reality show. But her heart… her heart didn't care.
"Dante…" she breathed, stepping closer, so close that the space between them was almost nonexistent. The warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his eyes held hers with a mixture of longing and apology—it was dizzying. "I… I've missed you."
He closed the final fraction of space between them, his forehead resting lightly against hers. "I've missed you too," he murmured, voice thick with emotion. "Every single day."
For a heartbeat, they simply stood there, hearts pounding, breaths mingling, completely untethered from the world. The unspoken years of pain, regret, and longing seemed to hang in the air, suspended between them like a fragile thread.
Then, almost instinctively, they leaned closer, lips hovering in that tantalizing space between hesitation and surrender. Alexis's breath hitched, chest fluttering violently as her hands found their way to his shoulders. Dante's hand moved to the small of her back, holding her carefully, reverently, as if she were the most delicate thing he had ever encountered.
And then—
A sudden sharp sound from the hallway snapped them apart. Both of them stepped back, hearts racing, foreheads flushed, breath uneven. Cameras. Or maybe a producer. Or perhaps one of the rival contestants. The magic of the moment shattered in an instant, leaving only the heat between them and the realization of how dangerously close they had come.
Alexis's hand lingered near his, almost brushing his fingers, a silent promise that this wasn't over. Dante's gaze softened, filled with longing and a quiet understanding that spoke louder than any words.
"I… I should go," Alexis whispered, voice trembling. She stepped back, finally letting reason regain a fraction of its footing.
Dante's hand brushed her cheek ever so lightly, a fleeting touch, and she shivered. "Later," he said simply, and the single word carried more weight, more promise, than anything else he could have said.
As she walked away, heart hammering, Alexis realized something profound. The walls she had built, the armor of self-protection, were finally cracking. And for the first time in years, she didn't feel the urge to rebuild them. Because with Dante, maybe, just maybe, it was worth the risk to let herself fall.
And he… she could see it in the way he watched her retreating figure, the slight furrow in his brow, the gentle bite of his lip… he felt it too.
The air between them was thick with unspoken confessions, shared pain, and the intoxicating promise of something dangerously beautiful. They had crossed a threshold tonight, one that neither could ignore, and the slow burn of their love—long dormant, nearly lost—had been reignited.
The world could wait. The cameras could wait. The chaos of the show could wait. For this moment, for this connection, for this chance… nothing else mattered.
⸻