Chapter 113 I Went Back
Dante POV
Two week went by, and Isabella didn’t call me.
I spent my time working, trying to stay busy so I wouldn’t have to acknowledge the pain deep inside my chest.
I hadn’t gotten laid almost a weeks, and I was starting to lose my mind, my hand was losing its effectiveness. I needed Isabella mouth, pussy, or ass something..I was entitled to go out and pick up some woman or pay for sex, but I didn’t want that.
There was only one woman I wanted and everyone else would just be a letdown.
I was the kind of man who was brutally honest, and I didn’t regret saying the truth to someone’s face but I regretted telling Isabella how I felt about her. Even though she felt the same way, it was the wrong move.
I’d still be waking up next to her every morning if I’d just kept my big mouth shut but now I was living in hell.
I stayed at my place in Rome, wanting to be close to her instead of far away in Lake and a part of me agreed with Isabella that we should just forget about each other and move on.
I would always hate her, regardless of how
much I loved her but I didn’t want a future as a husband with kids. All I wanted was her but forgetting a woman like that was impossible.
She cast a spell on me that would never fade away even though she wasn’t mine anymore, I still considered her to be my property. When her GPS had headed to that restaurant, I feared the worst, that she was going on a date.
I should have stayed home and let my rage simmer in privacy but, no, I snapped.
I didn’t want some other dog sniffing around my woman, yes she's my woman.
My only other option was to change Isabella mind but damn, she was so stubborn, so fucking stubborn that it drove me mad.
When a week turned into fourteen days, my patience cracked and my dick was hard all the time, and I missed her like crazy. I didn’t just miss the sex, but I missed talking to her.
I missed existing in silence with her. She was one of the few people in this world who really understood me, who accepted me for who I was.
If our families didn’t hate each other so much, I’d be buried between her legs right now, fucking nightmare.
After everything I did to her, keeping her as a prisoner while holding her family’s lives over her head, I should just leave her alone and let her move on.
If that’s what she wanted, I should step aside and let her leave but I wasn’t a good guy. I never pretended I was and Isabella knew exactly what I was.
A possessive, overbearing psychopath, It was seven in the evening when I walked up the stairs to her apartment. I wanted to unlock the door with my key and let myself inside like I owned the place, but I didn’t have the right to do that anymore.
As much as it annoyed me, I raised my fist and knocked.
I could see that the lights were on through the blinds in her window, so I knew she was home. She probably hadn’t eaten dinner yet. I pictured her sitting on the couch with the TV on, painting her nails or scrolling through
her phone.
It was too late for her to be painting, not when it was already getting dark. My knuckles tapped against the flimsy wood, the sound echoing because my fist was so dense. After three knocks, I dropped my hands to my sides
and stood there, waiting for my woman to open the door and face me.
When she took her time, I knew she knew I was on the other side of the.door. She was trying to fight her urge to let me in, trying to be strong and ignore me but she wasn’t naïve enough to believe I would actually walk
away without a fight. I was there now and I wasn’t leaving.
It took her nearly a full minute to finally unlock the door and open it. Her shoulder-length black hair was pulled over one shoulder, revealing the slender neck I’d smothered with kisses countless times. She wasn’t wearing
makeup, exactly the way I liked her. Her eyelashes were naturally thick and full, curled toward the ceiling. Her green eyes were bright, contrasting against her olive skin and dark hair.
She was in a long sleeved sweater that reached her knees, with a pair of white tube socks on her feet. She didn’t have any bottoms on, and I imagined what kind of panties she wore. Maybe a black thong or a lacy bikini bottom.
She shouldn’t have answered the door like that, not if she was going to try to get me to leave.
Silence descended, and we stared at each other. My breath came out as vapor because I’d been standing in the cold for a few minutes. It had stopped snowing and spring was quickly approaching, but the icy aftermath remained behind.
She kept one hand on the door, like holding the handle was enough to keep me out. “I can’t let you in, Dante…”
“I don’t need you to let me do anything.” I pushed my hand against the door and opened it wider so I could step inside.
Her hand dropped from the handle, and she immediately looked away, knowing she was powerless against me when I was determined.
I shut and locked the door behind me, looking down at her as she stepped back and tried to put space between us. She tucked her hair behind her ear, the nerves getting to her.
The sun was gone, and we were alone behind
closed doors and that meant only one thing would happen.
She crossed her arms over her chest, her shoulders rising and falling quicker now that the tension increased. An invisible shadow passed over both of us, packed with unbridled heat.
We could barely stand in the same room
together without feeling this surge between us. It was impossible for me to look at her without thinking she was mine. She broke eye contact and looked at the ground, the only way to avoid my piercing gaze. “Dante, you shouldn’t be here.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’re just making it harder...”
“I said, I don’t care.”
She sighed then lifted her gaze to mine.
“I can’t do this anymore and we need to finish what we started. We’re both in this relationship even if we have no relationship. I have the freedom to pick up a beautiful woman and do dirty things with her in my bed, but I don’t want to. Jerking off worked for a while, but that’s wearing off.
We can be in two different places, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t together. We can try to
get over each other, but that’s not going to happen either. So stop fighting it, Isabella and let it be.”