HELENA'S POV
Algreen cove had always been a different kind of city, a place where darkness thrived under neon lights, and secrets were traded more frequently than smiles. It was an endless canvas painted with crime, gang fights, and the silent orchestration of drug lords. Yet, despite its reputation, there was one thing Algreen Cove did well: parties. Celebrations where the rich and the reckless intertwined, their laughter drowning out the gunshots echoing down the alleyways. Someone could be gunned down on Down Street, but if you ventured a block over, you'd find a party so wild it made you forget the town's sordid realities.
Tonight was one of those nights, and the host was my sister, Vivianna. Just for the sake of wearing a pretty dress and prancing around as the evening's party co-host, she would use it as a smokescreen. But I knew better. The tension simmering underneath the surface was palpable, electric, like the hum of a storm before it cracked the sky open. The D'Angelo men were preparing for war after what happened at the restaurant, and this hastily assembled party was just another piece of a larger puzzle. A distraction, a ruse. And now I had to attend because Vivianna had begged me to and also because I wanted to see him, one last time before I left.
So, I found myself standing in front of the mirror in my black sleeveless dress, fitted at the waist and spilling just above my knees with an air of elegance. The dress hugged my figure perfectly, accentuating the curve of my hips and dipping slightly at the back. I applied a red lip, a touch bold, and brushed back the dark waves of my hair before stepping into the night.
As soon as I entered the grand hall of the party, Vivianna appeared out of nowhere, her bright eyes lighting up as she latched onto my arm. "Helena! There you are." She squeezed my hand and pulled me inside. Her gold dress shimmered, matching the decadence of the room-crystal chandeliers casting fragmented light over the well-dressed crowd, drinks clinking, and conversations buzzing like bees in a hive.
"How's life as a married woman when your husband doesn't remember you and he's parading his ex-girlfriend around town, maybe?" Vivianna's tone was as sharp as the cut of her dress. I met her eyes and forced a smile, though inside, I felt a familiar pang. Déjà vu.
I let my eyes drift across the room, skimming over men in tailored suits and women in sequined gowns, each one wearing the kind of smile that never reached their eyes. Some were already on their second glass of champagne. I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't looking for Dante when Vivianna's voice brought me back to reality.
"If you're looking for Dante, he's not here yet," she said, an eyebrow raised knowingly.
"I wasn't looking," I lied, snatching a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. The crisp bubbles hit my tongue, but the sensation felt hollow.
"You know what would turn this party around? You dancing," Vivianna teased. Her voice was hopeful, almost pleading.
I looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. "What?"
"Come on. You haven't performed in so long. It'll be fun, and this party needs a little shake-up." Her smile faltered as she added, "Please, Helena."
I shook my head, taking another sip from my glass. "Maybe if you want to shake up the party you could start by telling everyone you're pregnant," I countered smoothly.
Her face turned white, eyes widening as she tried to compose herself. "How did you-?"
"Vivianna," I said, a small smirk playing on my lips, "you're a raging alcoholic on any given day, and tonight, your hands are empty. Plus, your nipples are practically poking through your dress." I lifted an eyebrow knowingly.
She blinked, a defeated look washing over her features. "Fine, I was going to tell you and Mama after I spoke to Paulo. I didn't realize you could sniff out a pregnant woman."
I leaned in, letting the moment rest between us. "You haven't told Paulo?"
"I'm still processing it," she admitted, her voice quiet. "So, what are you saying about the dancing sis?"
"A hard no, Viv." I glanced over her shoulder as I bobbed my head to the thumping bass of the music.
That was when I saw him-Dante, stepping through the crowd like he owned the place. And maybe he did. My heart leaped before it crashed like waves against a jagged shore. On his arm was Gianna, her fiery blonde hair catching the light and that familiar wicked smile on her lips.
Vivianna's eyes followed mine, and she squeezed my arm. "I'm sorry, Helena."
"There's nothing to be sorry for." I forced a tight smile and pulled another glass of champagne from a tray. The cool, fizzy liquid barely settled my nerves. I wasn't going to let Dante ruin this night, not when I'd decided to leave Algreen Cove tomorrow. I turned my back on them, determined to melt into the crowd, to disappear into the rhythm of the music and the murmur of the night.
But my plan unraveled when Gianna approached me, her heels clicking like the sound of a predator stalking its prey. "Helena," she purred, eyes glistening with a dangerous gleam.
I let out a sigh, my irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "What do you want, Gianna? Tired of being paraded as the trophy girlfriend already?"
She chuckled, low and throaty. "Jealous, aren't we? It's not you anymore, and unlike you, I have a career."
"As what? A B-list actress with a few mediocre movies to your name?" I shot back, crossing my arms. "I'm Helena De Luca, and I'm the sole heir to my father's billion-dollar company. And for the record, Dante and I are still married."
Her smirk didn't falter. "But there's no proof, is there?" She leaned in as if sharing a secret.
I rolled my eyes and took another long sip from my glass, hoping if I ignored her long enough, she'd go away. But Gianna was relentless.
"I want you to leave town," she said, her tone cutting like a blade.
I scoffed. "What?"
"You heard me." She stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "I want you to leave. Dante's seeking answers that should stay forgotten. He's mine, and I won't lose him again, especially not to the likes of you."
I laughed, cold and humorless. "Or what?"
The gleam in her eyes darkened, and she leaned in even closer. "I know about the child, Helena. Dante's child, the one you gave up for adoption five years ago." My blood ran cold. "Don't underestimate my ability to craft a narrative. How would the world react if they learned that you abandoned your child to chase a failing ballet career? Think about what your mother would think, depriving her of the opportunity to have a grandchild, incredibly selfish of you"
I couldn't breathe, my fingers digging into the delicate stem of my glass. "How did you-"
"I had a private investigator dig into your past," she interrupted, her smile venomous. "At first, you were spotless, too clean but I knew there had to be something, but then I got a break. A letter from Paris mailed to Dante's house, your mistake, not mine because you could've changed the mailing address. And right there was a picture of a boy, his resemblance to Dante undeniable. A D'Angelo through and through."
Anger simmered under my skin, clawing to get out. I wanted to hurt her, to drag her across the polished floor until she begged for mercy. Instead, I clenched my jaw. "You wouldn't dare."
"Oh, but I would," she said. "Leave town, Helena. Quickly."
I swallowed hard, every cell in my body on fire with rage and fear. "I'm leaving tomorrow," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Good girl," Gianna said with satisfaction, walking away with that same triumphant smile.
And just as I gathered myself, fighting the urge to shatter the glass in my hand, my eyes found Dante across the room. A fresh cut marked his lip, and the moment he spotted me, a small, tired smile appeared. He looked like he was about to come toward me, but I tipped my glass back, downed the champagne, and spun on my heel, walking away without a backward glance.
If tonight was the last night in Algreen Cove, I wouldn't let it break me.