HELENA'S POV
I was so goddamn furious
The whole ride back had been unbearable, the tension that brewed within us, Dante had his jaw set, not saying a word, while I sat beside him, my fists clenched in my lap, trembling from the whirlwind of emotions that swirled inside of me.
He had swooped me off the ground so easily; it had been so effortless, like I weighed nothing in his arms. Despite the anger boiling inside me, there had been a split second where I felt... helpless. The way his grip was so firm, the way he just tossed me over his shoulder like I was some package he had to deliver. I hated that feeling-like he had control, like I was powerless. It made the fury burn even hotter.
We didn't exchange a single word as we walked into the house. I stormed past him, heading straight for the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I needed space. I needed air. I needed anything but him that moment.
The next morning, I woke up still angry. The ache in my chest lingered, and my head thrummed with an annoying frequency. I groaned, pulling myself out of bed, and I could hear the loud pangs of pans and pots coming from the kitchen and the faintest smell of someone cooking. I quickly slipped into my robe to go downstairs so that he could apologize for yesterday even though I knew the last thing Dante would do will be to apologize. I made my way downstairs, padding softly through the long flight of stairs, But as I rounded the corner into the kitchen, my steps faltered and standing right there dressed in a little pink dress and a tine apron, cooking and wiping down the counter like she owned the place, was not Dante-but a woman.
I blinked, taken aback. It took a moment, but then I recognized her – it was her, Dante's secretary who did not want me to get into Dante's office five years ago. She just looked just as stuck-up as ever, her blonde hair tied up in a messy ponytail, her bright blue eyes scanning me with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady despite the storm of emotions brewing inside me.
She glanced at me with a smirk, her short pink dress hugging her figure in a way that screamed fuck me. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes.
"Well, apart from being secretary I also cook and clean for Dante" I could be delusional but I could swear she almost sounded condescending "I didn't realize you were – back"
Then her eyes flicked to my hand, A mocking smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I didn't realize you two got married again. Dante usually tells me everything that goes on in his life" She paused, and then with a sly grin, she added, "Only in a business setting, of course. Or am I missing something?"
My mouth fell slightly open, only slightly it was barely noticeable, but I felt my blood simmer, she oozed arrogance and it infuriated me, there was a certain haze in her eyes like she wanted me to know she had been dillydallying with Dante and my presence now wasn't going to put an end to it and barely the thought of that produced a raw, hot feeling in my chest. The way she stood there, head up and confident that at least she had owned a part, like he was a prize to share – it infuriated me so bad, it took all my strength that this marriage was just for show and I shouldn't feel anything for him.
I was about to turn and leave, wanting nothing more than to get away from her smug face, when her voice stopped me. "You don't think he's totally over Gianna, now, do you?" she said, her tone sweetly venomous. "Because that would be very silly of you. Wasn't that why you left him in the first place?"
Her words felt like a punch to the throat – sharp and painful and nearly knocking the breath out of me. The memories were still fresh in my head – of how I had found them together, how he had moaned her name in my ears when he fucked me.
I blinked rapidly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break. I ignored her, turning to walk away, but she wasn't finished. "Gianna will be back, you know," she called after me, her voice smug. "And when she is, he'll throw you away again. Just like last time."
I stopped again, and her words caused me to clench my fist so tight I could feel my nails digging into my flesh. Slowly, I turned to face her, our gazes locking in a death stare. Hateful words swirled in my mind, sharp and ready to cut her down, but I forced myself to stay calm. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction – I wasn't that person.
"You missed a spot," I said coldly, nodding to the counter she had been cleaning. "You might want to pay more attention to that."
I stormed out of the kitchen, my heart pounding. My mind was spinning, and before I knew it, I was googling her on my phone – Gianna Fernandes, Dante's high school sweetheart who was now an uprising actress in New YorK City. I stared so hard at her pictures I was scared I might conjure her to step out of it, she was so poised and so tall and maybe Dante liked them tall while I was an average height of five foot seven, her hair was jet black and she had sported different hairstyles over the years that fit her sharp cheek bones perfectly and God – I could never compete with that.
I kept scrolling through her articles until my eyes caught a particular interview she had on the red carpet for the premier of one of her movies and the interviewer had asked if she had ever been in love and she bore a pensive look before she responded.
"Yes I have been in love, the best times of my life" she said.
"Oh where is he now, what happened" the blonde interviewer asked her back.
"Well, I left him five years ago to pursue acting in New York and I haven't seen him since"
"Do you think you're ever going to go back"
Then she blushed, with her manicured index finger over her lips "Shhh – it might be a surprise"
My chest tightened. Why did I care? Gosh, I shouldn't care so much, but I do and my chest tightened at the feeling, how do I stop feeling this way? Why did it feel like someone was gripping my heart and squeezing it? I had no claim to Dante, no reason to feel this way. But I couldn't shake it, no matter how hard I tried. I told myself again and again-this was just for show. I had no feelings for him. I couldn't.
By evening, I had grown restless. I needed to get out of the house, clear my head. So, I dressed and headed to the dance studio. Ballet had always been my escape, my way of processing everything. But tonight, it wasn't working. I twirled and leaped, trying to lose myself in the movement, but all I could think about was him – Dante, his touch, his power. And despite everything-despite how much I hated him for how he hurt me-I missed him. I craved him. I wanted to be in his arms, even though I knew it would destroy me. Every part of me ached for him, yearned for him.
Frustrated, I huffed and grabbed my things, storming out of the studio. But as I stepped outside, I froze.
Dante was there, standing by his car, his eyes softer than I'd ever seen them. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, my heart pounding in my chest.
Before I even realized what I was doing, my legs propelled me forward.
Straight into his arms.