Chapter 182 What Dante Said

Chapter 182 What Dante Said
Isabella POV

I looked up to see the stunning blue eyes that contained my whole world.

Strong and powerful, he invigorated me with strength just by looking at me, the t-shirt he wore had been soaked with sweat around his neck and armpits because he’d been working hard in the warehouse. A line of sweat covered his brow and when he was hot and sweaty, he looked even sexier than usual.

I came around the bar and moved into his chest, feeling my lifeline right under my fingertips. He was my strength as well as my weakness. He was my rock, the crutch I leaned on when I needed it most.

His hand moved to the back of my neck, and he stared down at me, concern in his eyes.

I thought I heard footsteps again, and I feared that asshole was coming back to insult me once more but then I realized it didn’t matter if he were…because Dante would kill him and I wouldn’t stop it from happening.
“Baby, what is it?”

His fingertips slipped beneath my jaw, gentle but firm as he tilted my face upward, making it impossible for me to keep avoiding his gaze.

I swallowed, suddenly embarrassed by how emotional I felt. “It’s stupid…”

His eyes narrowed immediately, not in anger, but in quiet disbelief. “Nothing you say is stupid. Tell me.”

I hesitated, my lips pressing together as I tried to find the right words and saying it aloud somehow made it feel even more ridiculous, but the ache in my chest was still there.

“Well… there was this guy who came in today, and he was an ass.” I let out a shaky breath. “He said our wine wasn’t very good, then he stared at my paintings and said… not very nice things.”

His expression changed slightly, his attention sharpening on me. “Said I sucked… like my family’s wine.”

My voice became quieter toward the end. “I know I shouldn’t let it bother me because his opinion doesn’t matter…”

I paused, blinking away the tears threatening to spill again. “But it hurt.”

For a moment, he simply looked at me then his eyes softened.

Instead of telling me to buck up like he normally would or brushing it off and telling me I was stronger than this, he gave me something I hadn't expected from him as his fingertips moved slowly across my cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle.

“Your paintings represent your soul,” he said quietly. “And if anyone insults them, it’s like insulting your feelings, emotions, beliefs…”

His thumb brushed lightly over my skin. “It’s not stupid that it hurt you.”

Something inside me loosened at his words and I turned my face into his palm, instinctively leaning into the warmth and strength of his hand.

I treasured the simple comfort of his touch, allowing myself to stay there for a moment instead of fighting the emotions that had been building inside me. “But he’s wrong, baby,” he continued.

I lifted my eyes to him. “Because he doesn’t possess your creativity, your beauty, and if it doesn’t exist inside him, then he can’t spot it when he sees it and his opinion is invalid because your artwork speaks to people.”

He paused, his gaze never leaving mine. “I don’t know shit about art, but it’s made me feel so many things.”

My throat tightened. “You painted me down to my very soul.”

There was something almost vulnerable in the way he said it, and I felt my chest ache for an entirely different reason. “How many people could do that?”

I watched his eyes as he spoke, searching his face and finding nothing but sincerity in those pretty eyes of his, there was no teasing or an attempt to flatter me just because I was upset.

He genuinely believed what he was saying. “You have a gift, baby and soon, you’re going to have your own gallery, and one day, people are going to be auctioning off your work for millions.”

I stared at him, barely breathing as I listened.

“When you’re dead and gone, generations into the future, people will treasure your work because it captured the beauty of your life.”

His fingers remained against my skin as he looked at me. “It’ll make you immortal.”

I felt my eyes sting again, but this time the emotion wasn't the same.

He cupped both of my cheeks, his palms warm against my skin as he gently turned my face upward a little more until I had no choice but to meet his gaze fully. “Don’t listen to him.”

I gave a slight nod, feeling better as he wiped away my tears with the pads of his thumbs. “No man deserves your tears...not even me.”

My hands gripped his wrists, feeling the strength transfer from him to me. “Thank you…”

He moved his lips to my forehead and gave me a long kiss, his warm mouth resting there for a while. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. You shine like the sun and don’t ever let anyone take away your light. A real man should never tear down a woman, but lift her up.”

“That’s what you do for me.”

He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me into the air, pulling me against his chest so we were face-to-face. “Yes, I do.”

My arms wrapped around his neck, and I pressed my forehead to his as my legs wrapped around his waist. “I love you.”

He closed his eyes as he held me, our heads pressed together. “I love you too, baby.” He held me that way for a while, letting me cling to him for comfort. Minutes passed before he returned me to the ground. “I should get back to work. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do.”

“They’re really putting you to work, huh?”

“Yep. Who doesn’t love free labor?”

I smiled at him. “Thanks for doing this…I know you have a million other things you should be doing.”

“Yes.” He rested his fingers against my chin and lifted my gaze. “But this is the only thing I want to be doing.” He gave me a soft kiss on the lips before he turned away. He held his wide shoulders with perfect grace as he walked away, his strong physique possessing a strong posture.

I watched him go until he turned the corner then I heard the sound of footsteps again and I turned toward the door to see who it was. I caught a glimpse of my father’s long-sleeved black shirt before it disappeared in the crack of the partially open door.

I wondered if he’d been watching that entire exchange. My father wouldn’t eavesdrop on me because he respected me too much but when it came to Dante, everything was different.