Chapter 52 Ashes of Love

Chapter 52 Ashes of Love
Jasmine:

My hands still shook when I got back to the hotel. I could still feel the knife sliding into Nikolai’s stomach, still see the look in his eyes.

He was disappointed. It should have made me feel better. Stronger even. My father was dead because of him. This was revenge. This was justice.

So why did it feel like I’d stabbed myself too?

Dante closed the door behind me quietly while I stood frozen near the entrance. My breathing came unevenly beneath my coat, and my fingers were stained faintly with dried blood.

His blood.

“You’re shaking,” Dante said softly.

“I’m fine.”

It was a lie. The second the words left my mouth, something inside me cracked open.

A broken sound escaped my throat before I could stop it, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe properly anymore. My knees weakened. Dante crossed the room quickly and caught me before I hit the floor.

And then I broke. Completely.

“I loved him,” I sobbed against his chest. “God, Dante… I loved him so much.”

His arms tightened around me silently.

“And he killed my father.” My voice shattered. “He killed him and I still—”

I couldn’t finish. The grief was too ugly, too confusing for someone of my newly attained status.

Dante stroked my hair slowly while I cried against him like a child.

“You don’t know that for certain,” he said quietly.

“Yes, I do!”

“He never admitted it.”

“He didn’t deny it either!”

Dante sighed heavily.

“That doesn’t mean—”

“He hated my family!” I yelled, pulling away from him. “His mother died because of us. His father’s in a coma because of us. What else was he supposed to do?”

Dante looked at me carefully.

“Maybe love you anyway.”

The words hurt more than they should have.

I turned away sharply, wiping furiously at my tears. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

Silence settled between us. Then Dante stepped closer carefully.

“Elena…”

I looked up at him. And suddenly I was so exhausted, so lonely. So desperate for comfort that when he cupped my face gently, I leaned into it without thinking.

Then I kissed him.

It happened fast. It was messy, broken, but it stopped me from thinking about how much I loved Nik.

His lips moved against mine stunned. It seemed like he was hesitating before his hands slid around my waist. He kissed me back harder, almost like he’d wanted this for years and finally lost the strength to resist.

Well… maybe he had.

He carried me toward the couch slowly, kissing me between every step while my fingers tangled into his shirt desperately.

I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel. I just wanted something that hurt less than Nikolai.

Dante laid me down carefully, his hands trembling slightly as they moved over my body. He kissed my neck, my jaw, whispering soft Italian words against my skin.

“Bella ragazza…”

Beautiful girl.

I closed my eyes. And imagined dark eyes. Cold hands. Whiskey on his breath. I closed my eyes and imagined Nikolai. My chest tightened painfully. 

Dante lowered his mouth, while his hand slid beneath my shirt, and before I could stop myself, I moaned his name.

“Nikolai…”

And just like that, everything stopped. Immediately. Dante stood, frozen above me.

The silence afterward felt devastating. My eyes opened instantly in shame.

“Dante—”

He moved away from me so quickly it felt like rejection.

“No,” he muttered harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “No, no, no…”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered immediately, sitting up. “God, Dante, I’m so sorry.”

He laughed bitterly under his breath.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. I was sad… and heartbroken.” I explained through shaky breath. “Saying his name like that is so disrespectful towards you, I shouldn’t have—“

“You don’t get it, Elena!” He interjected, a little louder than he should have.

I stood still, startled with my eyes wide.

“Do you know how long I’ve loved you?”

I stared at him silently. Dante looked away, jaw tight with emotion.

“Since we were bambini.”

Kids.

“I loved you before New York,” he continued quietly. “Before the modelling. Before you became Jasmine instead of Elena.” He swallowed hard.

Pain twisted in my chest.

“Dante…”

“You know what the worst part was?” he interrupted. “Watching him touch you, kiss you.”

I looked down immediately.

“At the masquerade ball… the first time I saw you with him…” He laughed softly, but there was no humour in it. “I meant every word I said.”

I remembered it instantly.

“He’s lucky to have you.”

“I was jealous,” Dante admitted. “Every time I saw him look at you, I wanted to rip him apart.”

His voice lowered.

“But you looked happy.”

That hurt most of all. Because I had been.

I looked at him carefully. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Dante smiled sadly, “because you never looked at me the way you looked at him.”

The truth sat painfully between us. I  stood slowly from the couch and fixed my shirt with trembling fingers.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again.

This time Dante nodded quietly.

“I know.”

Neither of us spoke for a while after that. Finally, I cleared my throat softly.

“We leave for Italy in the morning.”

Dante stared at me for a moment before nodding once.

“Yeah.”

But the air between us had changed now. And we both knew it.

Morning eventually came, grey and cold. I wore black. It felt appropriate somehow. Dante loaded the final bag into the jet while I stood near the runway stairs staring at the pale sky overhead. My chest still felt hollow. I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Nikolai bleeding. I saw his face when I stabbed him. He looked heartbroken. Then I’d remember Dante. Thanks to me, things were now awkward.

Just then, my phone vibrated suddenly in my pocket. It was an unknown number. I frowned slightly before answering.

“Who’s this?”

“Elena.”

My breath caught instantly. Nikolai. He sounded like he was in pains, weak. But it was still him.

“Why didn’t you finish the job?” He asked.

I closed my eyes tightly.

“It was on purpose. You deserve a more bitter end than that.”

“You stabbed me.”

“You killed my father.”

“I didn’t kill Lucien.”

My chest tightened painfully. Liar.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

I so badly wanted him to be innocent. But I couldn’t this man, not even for the slightest.

“You lied to me from the beginning,” he continued quietly. “Elena Vorn.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“I protected you.”

“You used me!”

His breathing sharpened slightly.

“I loved you.”

The words nearly destroyed me. But I gripped the phone harder.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “But you loved revenge more.”

“I would never do anything to hurt you, Jaz… and you know it.” He admitted softly, almost like he was ashamed to say it.

I shook my head immediately even though he couldn’t see it.

“You don’t get to say things like that anymore.”

“Jasmine—”

“No.”

My voice cracked sharply through the line, and the jet engines started roaring louder nearby. Dante was watching me carefully from the stairs now.

I wiped my eyes quickly.

“This is over, Nikolai.”

“If this becomes war… I won’t survive it without destroying myself trying to keep you alive.”

My chest ached so violently I almost couldn’t breathe. I forced the pain down anyway. Then I said the only thing left to say.

“Prepare yourself, Nikolai. Protect yourself if you have to.”

I looked towards the jet, towards the blood waiting for us both.

“The Godmother is prepared for war.”

Then I ended the call.