Chapter 9

Dante Cavallaro POV

Twenty-four hours had passed without sleep.

I sat in my study, a glass of whiskey resting untouched on the mahogany desk.

The house felt massive around me, hostile in its silence.

Every shifting shadow looked like her.

Every groan of the floorboards sounded like the phantom echo of her footsteps.

The door clicked open.

I looked up, expecting Vitale with news from the trackers.

It was Sofia.

She strolled in with an air of possession that made my stomach turn.

She was wearing a silk robe.

My wife's robe.

Red rage flooded my vision, tinting the world in violence.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice a low, vibrating growl.

"I heard she left," Sofia said softly.

She rounded the desk, invading my personal space.

She placed a hand on my shoulder.

Her fingers felt like spiders crawling over my skin.

"I'm sorry, Dante. But maybe... maybe it's for the best."

"For the best?" I repeated, the words tasting like ash.

"She wasn't right for you," Sofia cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "She was too hard. Too cold. You need someone who appreciates you. Someone who needs you."

She leaned down.

The scent of vanilla was suffocating, cloying and artificial.

It made me want to gag.

"I'm here, Dante," she whispered against my ear. "I've always been here."

She moved to settle onto my lap.

I stood up so abruptly that my chair flew backward, crashing against the wall with a deafening crack.

Sofia stumbled, barely catching herself on the edge of the desk.

"Dante?"

"Take that robe off," I commanded.

Sofia smiled tentatively, her fingers drifting to the belt. "Of course, I-"

"Take it off and put on your own clothes," I roared, the sound tearing from my chest. "And get out of my house."

Sofia froze.

Her face crumbled, the mask of seduction slipping.

"What? But... she's gone! We can finally-"

"There is no 'we'!" I shouted. "There never was!"

"But you chose me!" she screamed, her voice shrill. "You defended me! You bought me the penthouse!"

"I bought the penthouse for Elena!" I slammed my fist onto the desk, rattling the glass of whiskey. "I used your name to keep it off the books so my enemies wouldn't blow it up with her inside! You were a signature! A pen! Nothing more!"

Sofia recoiled as if I had struck her physically.

Her eyes narrowed, hurt morphing into venom.

"And the dress?" she hissed. "You let me wear it."

I narrowed my eyes, the non-sequitur catching me off guard.

"What?"

"The green dress," she said, malice leaking into her voice, desperate to claim a victory. "I tried it on. I rubbed my perfume on it. I told her I had worn it. That's why she slapped me."

The world stopped spinning.

She told me she wore the dress. She told me-

Elena's desperate words from that night echoed in my mind, haunting me.

I hadn't listened.

I had looked at the crocodile tears on Sofia's face and ignored the burning truth in Elena's eyes.

I walked around the desk.

I towered over Sofia, letting my shadow consume her.

She shrank back, real, primal fear finally entering her eyes.

"You provoked her," I said, the realization settling like lead in my gut. "You staged the accident in the kitchen. You poisoned my marriage."

"I did it for us!" Sofia cried.

"Get out," I said. My voice was deadly quiet, far scarier than the shouting.

"Dante, please-"

"If you are not out of this house in two minutes," I warned, "I will forget the debt I owe your dead husband. And I will treat you like the enemy you are."

Sofia scrambled back, tripping over her own feet.

She turned and ran out of the room.

Moments later, the front door slammed, shaking the house.

I was alone.

Truly alone.

I looked at the empty desk where Elena's resignation letter had lain.

I had chosen honor over love.

And now I had neither.

I pulled out my phone.

I dialed Rocco.

"Did you find them?"

"We got a hit on a credit card," Rocco answered immediately. "A burner account Aria set up years ago. They bought tickets."

"Where?"

"Las Vegas."

I hung up without another word.

I walked to the window and looked out at the dark, sprawling grounds.

Las Vegas.

The city of sin.

She thought she could run.

She thought she could hide in the neon lights.

She was wrong.

I wasn't a husband anymore.

I was a hunter.

And I was coming to claim my prize.