DANTE's POV
"Aren't you going to look for her?"
Matteo's sharp voice cut through my focus but I caught the concern under it, the kind that never made him speak lightly.
I didn't look up immediately. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, the screen glowing with emails, reports, the endless chain of problems that demanded my attention.
"She said I was locking her up," I murmured, my eyes fixed on the laptop. "Let her roam freely. Isn't that what she wanted?"
Matteo shook his head slowly, his disapproval radiating from him like heat. "You think it's safe out there? For her to be wandering the streets so late at night? What if something happens? What if—"
I finally lifted my gaze. His piercing eyes were fixed on me.
I shut the laptop with a deliberate snap. The sound reverberated through the room, startlingly loud in the silence.
"I've got work to do, Matteo," I said with a flat voice, almost clipped.
I've had enough.
"She isn't a child. She made that very clear. She'll handle herself. I have responsibilities, more pressing than worrying about someone making their own choices. So please… walk yourself out."
He cursed under his breath, low and guttural. "Madonna, Dante… you always push people away with that attitude. You make them think you're heartless, like nothing can touch you."
I stood, my chair scraping lightly against the floor. "I'm final on this, Matteo. Walk yourself out. I don't need lectures or your whyning. And I certainly don't need someone who doesn't understand the world I navigate."
His jaw tightened, disbelief written all over his face.
"You're impossible."
He cursed one last time, muttered something under his breath, and stormed out. The door slammed behind him, leaving a ringing echo in the spacious room.
Silence returned.
I remained seated for a moment, staring at the dark screen of my laptop. My reflection stared back at me.
I reached for my phone.
No messages.
No calls.
The battery icon blinked faintly, mocking me with its calm indifference.
She said she wanted freedom.
She said I was suffocating her.
She ran away.
Fine.
Let her breathe. Let her run.
I placed the phone face down on the desk and reopened my laptop.
My gaze shifted to the wall clock.
It was almost midnight.
"Alessio, join me for the meeting?"
Alessio poured the coffee smoothly, not spilling a single drop. His hands were steady. Always steady.
"You seem… tired," Alessio observed.
"I was up working."
He went silent for a brutal minute.
"Oh… working?"
My gaze flicked up briefly.
Alessio held it for a second before looking away. Unlike Matteo, he knew when to stop pushing but I knew there were words he was holding back.
He would unleash it soon enough.
"Let's go."
We stepped into the elevator. The doors closed with a mechanical hum.
꧁ ❀ ꧂
The meeting ran longer than I expected.
By the time I stepped outside, the city had changed.
It was much louder.
There were shouts, cries, Torches flickering against the buildings.
I barely paid attention.
Public punishments weren't uncommon in the lower districts. Thieves. Informants. Traitors. Small chaos didn't demand my attention.
Until my phone rang.
One of my men.
I answered without a word.
"Boss," he said, voice tight. "We found her."
I sucked in a breath.
"Location."
"East square. They've labeled her a thief. Making an example. The crowd is growing."
I froze.
"She's tied up. There's a child too."
The noise outside the car sharpened.
East square…
I watched through the tinted window.
The crowd. The firelight. The square.
"Stop the car."
The driver obeyed immediately.
Alessio leaned forward. "Dante? What's going on?"
I was already opening the door.
The cold night air hit my face, but I barely noticed. The noise grew as I approached. Angry voices, murmurs, accusations.
My bodyguard met me at the edge of the crowd with two armed men. He cleared a path without asking. People moved instinctively.
I moved forward until…
I saw her.
Amalia. My wife.
Tied to a wooden chair in the center of the square.
Blood dried along her temple. Lip split. Dress torn at the shoulder. She wasn't glowing like the last time I had seen her. She looked…drained.
Beside her, two others…Camelia. My former associate. And a little girl. Trembling but silent.
The crowd roared.
"Thieves!"
"Make them pay!"
"Burn them!"
I didn't hear them. I only saw her.
Her eyes found mine.
Instant recognition flashed in her eyes.
It flickered across her face before she could bury it.
Alessio stepped closer. "We need to free her. Now."
I didn't move.
A man in front raised a gun, showing it to the crowd.
"These women stole from the community! There are consequences!"
Her gaze never left me. She saw. She knew. She knew I could end this with one word. One gesture. One command. One shot.
Alessio whispered my name.
"Dante?"
I didn't answer.
The man fired a daunting shot in the air.
The little girl cried.
Camelia shut her eyes.
Amalia didn't. She kept staring at me.
I remained calm. But inside, my mind was a battlefield.
Do I save her…or not?
She ran away and made a mockery of our contract.
She wanted freedom. She wanted life beyond me. She wanted to see the world without my walls.
So why should I care?
The man aimed the gun at her head.
The crowd cheered.
Alessio stepped forward. My arm shot out. Stopping him from making a move.
"Don't move," I said, my voice low, steady, but sharper than steel.
Alessio froze, staring at me like he didn't recognize the man before him.
Amalia's eyes never wavered. They burned into mine with a question she dared not voice. She knew I could stop this… but would I?
Every muscle in my body screamed to act. My fingers twitched. My jaw ached from the tension.
I felt it all at once: Alessio's silent frustration, the metallic click of the gun cocking again, the child's stifled whimper, the crowd's roar rising like a wave ready to drown us, Camelia's hands clenching the chair, her eyelids squeezed shut.
I could put an end to it all and yet…
I stayed still.