MATTEO'S POV
The cool night air brushed against my skin as Helena clung to me, her fingers wrapped tightly around my arm. Her flushed cheeks and wide, sparkling eyes were magnetic, like I was seeing her for the first time. Her laughter still echoed in my head, the sound of it rolling through the haze of the raunchy time we'd shared inside the club. The pulsing lights, the music, the feel of her body pressed against mine-everything about tonight felt like a dream.
She looked up at me, her lips parted, slightly swollen from where she'd bitten them while dancing. My breath hitched as the urge to pin her against the nearest wall and kiss her until we both forgot our names overtook me. But I didn't. Not yet. Not here. Instead, I held her steady, guiding her toward the car as her voice broke the moment.
"God I'm starving" she said again, her voice light and airy.
I smirked, trying to shake the wild thoughts coursing through my head. "Starving, huh? All that dancing must've done a number on you."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile never wavered. "Yes, Matteo. I need sustenance, or I'll pass out right here on the sidewalk."
"Well, we can't have that," I teased, opening the car door for her.
Once inside, I started the engine, my fingers gripping the wheel tighter than usual. Her laughter filled the space, soft and intoxicating, and I stole a glance at her. She was gazing out the window, the streetlights illuminating her features. God, she was beautiful, and for the first time in years, I felt something close to joy.
I drove us to a nearby 24-hour fast food joint, the kind of place I wouldn't typically be caught dead in. But for her? I'd make an exception. We ordered fries, burgers, and chicken, piling the greasy goodness into a bag before heading to the food court overlooking the river.
The night was peaceful, the sound of the water lapping against the shore soothing in a way I hadn't expected. Helena sat beside me, her face lit by the faint glow of the streetlamps, and we ate in comfortable silence.
"This view is beautiful," she said, her voice soft as she gazed at the rippling water.
I nodded, watching her rather than the river. "It is."
For every reason, I was happy. She was here with me, laughing, eating, living in this moment that felt stolen from reality. But deep down, I didn't know how long it was going to last. Not when Dante was still very much alive, a free man, and legally her husband. That truth hung over me like a storm cloud, darkening the edges of this fleeting happiness.
I thought about the case I could take up against him, with all the evidence I had in my pocket. If I used it, Dante would be locked away for good, and I'd finally have Helena to myself. But then what? It was one thing to fall in love with my brother's wife, but turning him into the police? That was a betrayal of an entirely different kind. Both were unforgivable, but I had to pick my battles wisely.
Helena's laughter snapped me out of my thoughts, and I smiled at her. She was licking her fingers clean of ketchup, completely unbothered by the world around her. For a moment, I let myself believe we could have this.
But then, as if the universe was hellbent on proving me wrong, a voice I knew all too well cut through the night like a dagger.
"Well, if it isn't the latest couple in town-my half-brother and my wife."
Dante.
I didn't need to turn around to recognize his voice, but I did anyway, just as Helena stiffened beside me. Her face paled, her eyes darting toward him with panic, and I instinctively pushed her behind me, standing between her and the devil himself.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.
Dante smirked, his hands buried casually in his pockets as if he didn't have a care in the world. "I'm here to take my wife home."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Helena said from behind me, her voice shaking but resolute.
"Well, you heard her," I added, my tone sharp.
Dante's smirk widened, his gaze dark and calculating. "I don't remember asking. I'm telling you to come right now."
Helena didn't move, her grip tightening on my arm.
Dante's eyes narrowed. "Look, this little game is over, and I'm sick of it. You're coming home with me whether you like it or not."
"And then what?" Helena snapped, stepping out from behind me. "What happens if I come with you? Does it magically erase every batshit crazy thing you've done? Does it erase you selling me for your company?"
Dante's expression hardened. "I did it for us to protect everything I built, everything that this betraying bastard trying to take away from him, the same person you're now frolicking around town with. And besides, no one forced you. I guess you've been wanting to fuck him and jumped at the first opportunity that crawled your way."
Helena scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "Go home, Dante."
"Go home," I echoed, my tone firm.
But Dante didn't budge. He stood there, his hands still in his pockets, his gaze locked on mine. For a moment, we were in a silent battle, a war of wills, but Dante was the first to look away.
"I'm not going to say it again, Helena. Let's go."
When she didn't move, he sighed and pulled out a gun.
The air shifted, the tension snapping like a live wire. My muscles tensed, but I didn't flinch, keeping my eyes locked on Dante.
"What the hell are you doing?" Helena yelled, her voice high with panic.
"You better come with me now, or I'll shoot him. I'll kill him right here and now, and this little rom-com will turn into a painful tragedy," Dante said, his tone deadly calm.
"Then what are you waiting for?" I smirked, my voice defiant.
His hand hovered around the trigger, his determination written all over his face. But before he could make a move, Helena screamed.
"Stop!" she yelled. "Fine, I'll come with you."
I turned to her, shock and anger flooding my veins, but she didn't meet my gaze. Her eyes were fixed on Dante, her expression unreadable.
"But first, you'll have to catch me," she said, and before anyone could react, she turned and jumped into the river.
"Helena!" I shouted, my heart plummeting as I lunged toward the water's edge.
Dante grabbed my arm, his gun still pointed at me. "Stop. She can swim."
"No, she can't!" I snapped. "She has screws in her hip because of you, you damn idiot! I'd expect you to know that-loving husband."
Dante's face fell, his grip loosening for just a moment, and I took the chance to dive in after her. The icy water swallowed me whole, but I didn't care. I had to find her