HELENA'S POV
I stared at the invitation on my phone to the masked ball, the same time Vivianna's excited text trickled in.
"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING??" and I'm not exaggerating, her texts was in all caps. The masked ball had always a special occasion in Algreen Cove, like Halloween just that instead of costumes and trick or treating, we had a large ball party or something from the Victorian era and the only requirement to attend was a mask – an artfully crafted mask that provided the essence of the celebration.
"I just got the invitation like a second ago" I texted back. I was standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water.
"So? We plan dresses like a year before"
"A year ago, I had no plans to come back to Algreen Cove" I sent back, suddenly realizing how much everything had changed since I came back for Vivianna's wedding. The text bubbled for a few seconds, then stopped and picked up again just when another text popped in my phone my pulse raced. The suddenness of it sent a small jolt through me, and I froze for a second.
My heart thumped a little harder in my chest, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach as I opened the message. A picture of a child appeared, and I swallowed hard when I saw what it was.
A boy, no older than six, dressed in a little soccer uniform with grass stains on his shorts and a ball tucked under his arm. His light brown hair was ruffled, probably from running around, and his wide, innocent eyes glistened with excitement. Beneath the photo, the caption read: "Mason at soccer practice, prepping for the big game".
My breath hitched in my throat as I stared at him. Mason. My son that was no longer mine but I still had the grace to watch him grow through pictures like this.
I zoomed in on his face, tracing the familiar curve of his jaw, the same strong, sharp features I knew all too well. His eyes… they mirrored Dante's. The same dark, intense gaze, though softened with the innocence of a child. The resemblance was undeniable-the arch of his eyebrows, the straight nose, the hint of mischief playing at the corners of his lips. It was like looking at a smaller, younger version of Dante, and it made my chest tighten painfully.
I scrolled through the other pictures, the most recent one being his fifth birthday where he wore a party hat and a football cake sitting before him. A heavy feeling settled on my chest as I scrolled through, the French family that adopted him had been graceful enough to send me updates on his life, I couldn't hold him to my chest, or kiss him goodbye to school but this was enough – knowing he was alive and well.
Just then, I wondered how much longer I'd have to keep this secret from him. It would have been easier, if I was far far way in Paris, but everyday I stayed with Dante, it reminded me of the dark looming secret that hovered over me anywhere I went.
Just then, I heard footsteps approaching, and I quickly pressed the side of my phone, locking the screen. I turned around, startled to see Dante standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His presence was like a shadow, tall and dark, filling the room with an intensity that made the air around me crackle.
"Jesus, you scared me," I muttered, my voice shakier than I intended.
He eyed me suspiciously "What are you doing?"
"Drinking water" I gestured toward the glass of water on the counter, trying to focus on anything but the rapid thumping of my heart. His gaze lingered on the glass, and I followed it, noticing the faint smudge of my lipstick on the rim. Dante shrugged, his expression unreadable as he walked towards here I stood and then he picked up the glass, and brought it to his lips-placing his mouth right where mine had been. His eyes never left mine as he took a slow, deliberate sip.
Fucking hell
A prickling sensation ran down my spine, heat pooling low in my stomach. There was something incredibly sensual, almost possessive, about the way he acted, about the way he was drinking from that glass. It wasn't just the act itself, but the way he made me feel with just a look-a reminder that he was always in control, even in these subtle, everyday moments.
He was still dressed in a suit, which meant he was just arriving home. His cologne drifted toward me, that dark, intoxicating scent that seemed to wrap itself around my senses and pull me in. It was overwhelming.
The tension between us was thick, palpable, filling the small space. But beneath it all, last night's conversation still hovered in the air. I'm going to destroy you, Helena, he had said. And God help me, I wanted him to. I could still feel the aftermath of it all-the bruising intensity of his words, the way he made me burn with need and anger all at once and then Gianna – which had put a stop to my female boner.
couldn't take it anymore. The heat between us, the suffocating weight of everything unsaid. I turned abruptly, ready to leave before I did something I regretted. But I stopped halfway
"Can you have Matteo stop following me around?" I spun back to face him, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't need a bodyguard, and I'm pretty sure Matteo has better things to do with his time than gallivant around town with me."
Dante barely blinked, his expression unchanging as he placed the glass back down. "No."
My eyes widened in frustration. "Do you know how backwards it is that you think I need a chaperone in this day and age?"
He just shrugged again, completely unbothered by my protest. "I don't care."
I huffed, my frustration boiling over, and his nonchalance driving me crazy. I turned again, ready to storm out, but before I could leave, Dante's voice stopped me in my tracks.
"About the masked ball. You're coming with me."
I froze, turning slowly to face him, my eyes narrowing. "I'm going with my sister," I said, defiance in every word.
Dante smirked, the corners of his mouth curling up in that infuriatingly smug way of his as he walked past me, his shoulder brushing against mine and then he spoke his voice low and commanding.
"Matteo will take you for your dress fittings,"
Like he didn't hear a word I said.