Chapter 6 Cold Metal, Dead Heart

DANTE'S POV

I have always loved little metals, cold metals especially, the one that kills people in seconds, but this makes me more dead than living every second that passes by.

The wedding band sat in my palm. White gold just like she wanted, Simple. The band I'd slid onto her finger six years ago while promising things I meant, I told her I would protect her with my life, and kill anyone who tries to hurt a single strand of hair on her head.

She'd stopped believing those things.

I found the ring in the trash outside our building.

Discarded like it meant nothing.

Like we meant nothing.

My fist closed around it until the metal bit into my palm. The pain can't be compared with the one I feel inside currently. It's better than the hollow ache that lived in my chest now.

It's been a fucking month.

Thirty-one days since she'd pointed a gun at my head and walked out. Not caring of how I'd cope without her.

Thirty-one nights of sleeping in my office because our bed smelled like her and I couldn't fucking breathe in there.

"Boss." Marco's voice came from the doorway. Everyone has been careful around me lately, except Marco.

"The investigator called," he continued. "Still nothing. No credit cards. No phone activity. No..."

"Tell him to look harder." I replied impatiently, not bothering to look up.

"Dante, it's been a month. If she doesn't want to be found...."

"She's my wife!" The word came out rough, exactly how I feel inside.

Mine. She is mine.

"You signed the divorce papers," Marco said quietly. "Legally, she's not...."

I threw the glass on my desk. It shattered against the wall, raining crystal across marble, I got up shooting him a deadly glare.

Marco stared back without breaking eye contact. He'd seen worse from me these past weeks.

"Get out!." I could barely stand his running mouth,

He hesitated. "Dante...."

"Vaffanculo." I didn't bother to look up. "Get the fuck out, Marco."

The door closed with a soft thud. I slumped back into the couch, signing heavily.

How long will this take?

Silence pressed in, that loud emptiness that makes it hard to breathe. The kind that made you hear your own heartbeat. Your own thoughts.

I used to fill that silence with her, she would always find excuses to come into my office, humming sweetly, or dancing while I watched her. Her laughter. The soft sound of her breathing when she slept curled against my chest or on the couch where I sat currently.

Now there was nothing, nothing but silence echoing in my head.

I pulled up the security footage. Again. The same clip I'd watched a hundred times like some fucked-up masochist. Maybe I am.

Bella walking to the elevator. That stupid gun was hidden in her bag, I will fucking kill the person that give her that gun, I personally kept her away from that life, I taught her how to shoot just for self defense, not knowing she would use it against me

Those divorce papers in her jacket, the lawyer that drafted it will also lose his career and a leg, they should all wait till I find her.

Still watching the footage, her Back straight, Head high, just like a gorgeous model, my fucking model.

She didn't look back. Not once. That hurts more than a bullet wound.

She Left like leaving me was that easy

I paused on her face. Zoomed in.

Those eyes. Christ, those honey-brown eyes that used to look at me like I was something worth loving.

Now they'd looked at me like I was a monster.

"You murdered my family."

Her words still echoed. The accusation.

She was certain.

She actually believed I'd....

My jaw clenched, I shut my eyes tightly.

I didn't know what she'd found. Which of my secrets she found out, but I did it for her own good.

And I'd make her understand that, I would kill anyone who threatened to take her again.

Right after I found her, right after I got my hands on her again, I will explain it will she understands.

My eyes ran through her body, her perfect body flashed through my mind,

My body reacted to the thought. Heat and need rushing through my veins.

The kind I'd been drowning in alcohol to forget.

A month without touching her, without tasting her. Without feeling her come apart beneath me while she said my name like a prayer.

Fuck

A month of my hand and cold showers and memories that weren't enough, can never be enough.

I wanted her. I needed her. In ways that weren't healthy or sane, it physically hurts, my chest beating rapidly at the thoughts, sweat starting to form on my forehead.

I know I would burn the world down if it means I will get her back.

My phone buzzed. Nina Torres.

Finally! That gimmick.

I answered before the second ring. "Where is she?" I said immediately,

"Fuck you, Dante." Her voice shook with rage. "I hope you never find her." I rolled my eyes at the sound of her voice, I will find her.... It just hasn't happened yet.

"You know where she is." I wasn't asking a question,

"Even if I did, I'd die before telling you." Nina laughed mockingly "You destroyed her. The Bella I knew trusted and loved you" she paused "you killed that girl." She was obviously boiling in anger, "I don't know what you did but I'm glad she isn't yours anymore"

"She's still my wife." I said between my teeth.

"No. She's finally free." She pauses, sniffing, is she crying?. "And you have no idea what's coming for you."

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone for like two minutes, mind was blank.

What's coming for me?

Threat or warning?

At the point I'm not bothered, if what's coming involves Bella coming back I'm ready.

I pulled up the video again. Rewind to the week before she left.

I watched her move through our home like a ghost.

Making dinner. Painting.

Everything was perfect, what changed.

All of it a lie.

How long had she been planning this? How many times had I fucked her while she was plotting her escape?

The thought made something violent twist in my gut.

She'd let me fucked her while hating me?.

Suddenly, I felt the headache coming, I actually noticed she became more gentle. A few years ago, I thought she was just getting more mature. Was she plotting then?

Jesus Christ.

I'd been married to a stranger.

My office door opened again. Marco entered, face grim.

"What!" I snapped.

He handed me his phone without a word.

A photo. Grainy, taken from distance.

A picture of a strange woman, she was dressed...

But those eyes. I'd know those eyes in the dark.

Bella!. Tesoro.

I sat up immediately.

My hand tightened on the phone, my heart skipped a beat, beating rapidly. She is safe,she is around and she is alive.

She'd cut her hair. Why?

Focus!. I need to focus.

"Where?" My voice came out rough.

"Sicily. Three days ago." Marco's tone was careful. "She stays around there now."

I stared at the photo.

My soft, sweet wife who'd cried during sad movies was standing in Sicily with a gun and meeting with people I don't know.

What the fuck had she become?

"Get me on a flight," I said. "Now."

"Dante, if you go there without a plan..."

"The plan is simple." I looked up. "Find her. Bring her home. Remind her who the fuck she belongs to."

"And if she fights?"

I smiled slowly. Fight? That's not even a possibility.

"Then I'll enjoy breaking her in again." I shrugged dropping the phone on the desk

Marco's expression darkened. "There's something else. Lorenzo Vitale is back, he might declare war soon."

I grabbed my jacket. Not bothering to look at him, I have got something more important to going on.

"Where are you going?"

"Sicily." I checked my gun. "To get my wife back."

"Dante......"

"Handle Lorenzo" I ordered.

I headed for the door. She's mine. She'll always be mine.

I don't care if anyone wants to take my empire, Marco will handle it.

But Bella is coming home soon.

Even if I had to drag her home by that pretty throat.

Even if I had to fuck the fight out of her until she remembered.

She is mine. And I'm done wa......

Suddenly an explosion broke out. I instinctively reached for my gun, Marco drew out his gun also, rushing forward.

"What was that?" I asked, turning to Marco

" Lorenzo.... He is here."