Chapter 47 Memory Flash
Sienna didn't waste time as she walked towards Dante's room. She was just too scared to go back to her room. Her mind was flooded with thoughts. What if she went back to her room and Isabelle came back to murder her?
She shook her head and opened the door of Dante's room. The sea outside the villa whispered through the night.
But Dante didn’t hear it. He laid on the bed, hands clenched, chest rising and falling too fast. Sweat ran down his neck, his breath sharp and uneven.
He dreamt of the crash, not in pieces anymore. This time,it was sharper.
He saw the headlights.It was raining. Then, he heard a metal twisting.
A voice shouting his name. He recognizes the voice. It belongs to his brother, Luca.
He gasped, forcing himself to breathe. “Stop. Stop it.”
Across the room, Sienna stirred. She’d been dozing on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. The sound of his voice pulled her awake, instantly
“Dante?”
He didn’t answer, his eyes were still closed
She rushed to him, kneeling beside the bed. “Hey, it’s me. You’re safe.”
He flinched when she touched his arm, as if the memory still burned under his skin. His heartbeat thundered as he opened his eyes.
“Dante, look at me,” she said softly. “You’re not there. You’re here.”
His eyes finally found hers, wild, lost, terrified. “I can’t..” His voice broke. “I saw it again. Everything about the crash, the lights, the road,the voices. Luca was there.”
Sienna steadied her tone, even though her heart was pounding. “You’re safe. You’re breathing. You’re here with me.”
He blinked hard, trying to focus on her voice. Slowly, his breathing eased. The tremor in his hands began to still.
“Good,” she whispered. “That’s it. Just breathe.”
For a moment, neither spoke. The storm outside thrashed against the windows, lightning flickering across the room.
He sat up, drained. “I keep seeing it. Every time I close my eyes.”
“What do you remember?”
He swallowed. “The headlights, shouting, Luca calling my name. Then.” He stopped, frowning as if the memory itself hurt. “Then everything went black.”
Sienna hesitated. “You said you heard Luca’s voice. Are you sure it was him?”
He nodded. “I know his voice. I’d bet my life on it.”
The words hung there, heavy and final.
Sienna’s mind churned. Luca. Why would Luca be there that night?
She didn’t ask Dante. She wouldn't want to make him restless with questions.
Instead, she reached for his hand, resting it gently between both of hers. “You’re remembering more. That’s progress, Dante.”
He gave a hollow laugh. “Progress feels like punishment.”
“It’s healing,” she said. “It hurts before it helps.”
He looked at her then. There was something new in his gaze, a softness that didn’t belong to the man who used to lock everyone out.
“How do you do that?” he asked quietly.
“Do what?”
“Stay.”
Sienna blinked. “Because you need someone to.”
“Not like this,” he murmured. “Not after everything Isabelle’s done.”
Her name cracked the air like thunder.
Sienna felt the familiar sting at the sound of it. That name carried too much, fear, disgust and humiliation.
She remembered the headlines, the comments, the pitying looks. The Temptress Therapist. The Nurse Who Fell for Her Patient.
All Isabelle’s doing.
Sienna swallowed the lump in her throat. “You don’t need to talk about her.”
“I do,” he said. His tone was calm but raw. “Because I’ve spent years pretending she didn’t break me.”
She sat beside him on the bed. The wind rattled the windowpane, but neither of them moved.
Dante leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “When we were together, I thought she loved me. I really did. She had this way of making me feel like I was the only one who understood her. But it was always a game. Everything had a price.”
Sienna listened quietly, her fingers twisting in her lap.
“When my mother left,” he continued, “Isabelle filled that space. She wanted control, not love. When she couldn’t control me anymore, she made sure no one else could have me either.”
Sienna looked at him, the way his jaw tightened when he spoke, the way his eyes flickered between anger and regret.
He wasn’t just remembering Isabelle’s cruelty. He was remembering the boy who’d let her in.
She said softly, “You were young. You wanted to be loved.”
He met her gaze. “So did you.”
Sienna froze.
For a heartbeat, she forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t accusing her, he was trying to understand her.
She looked down at her hands. “I wanted to believe that love could fix what I’d lost.”
“What did you lose?” he asked.
Her throat tightened. She rarely spoke about it even with her colleagues. The memory was a wound she’d learned to walk around.
“My family,” she said slowly.
He turned toward her. “I’m sorry.”
She smiled faintly, the kind of smile people wear when they’ve practiced hiding pain. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
Her eyes met his again. “No,” she admitted. “It’s not.”
They sat like that for a while, two broken people holding pieces of their past, unsure how to fit them together.
Hours passed. The storm began to fade. But neither of them could sleep.
Dante lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Do you ever wonder if people like us, people who lose too much ever get to be whole again?”
Sienna looked at him from the couch. “Maybe not. But maybe we get to build something new.”
He smiled faintly. “You really believe that?”
“I have to,” she whispered. “Otherwise, what’s the point of helping people?”
He turned his head, studying her in the dim light. “You helped me.”
“You helped yourself,” she said.
He shook his head. “No. You kept showing up, even when I didn’t deserve it.”
Sienna felt warmth spread through her chest. She tried to look away, but he kept talking.
“Every time Isabelle tore me down, I thought that was love, but it was pain dressed as loyalty. But you stayed without wanting anything back.”
“Don’t,” she said softly. “Don’t compare us.”
He didn’t. He just looked at her and she felt something in her heart shift.
The clock ticked toward midnight. The air in the room felt different now.
Dante’s eyes were heavy but alive. “I keep thinking about that night,” he murmured. “Not the crash. Before that.”
“What about it?”
“I remember a call from Isabelle. She was angry, she said I’d ruined something for her. I didn’t understand what she meant. And then, I was on the road, the lights, Luca shouting. I don't remember anything,. it's as if that memory was wiped out.”
His breath quickened.
Sienna moved closer. “Hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to force it.”
He nodded, but his eyes were far away again. “She wanted me to drive that night. She said we needed to talk. I didn’t know she’d be following.”
Sienna froze. “She was there?”
He nodded once, slowly. “I think so.”
A shiver ran through her. The idea of Isabelle lurking in the dark, watching, and planning to ruin him made her skin crawl.
She didn’t know whether to believe it or not. But she believed the fear in his voice.
He whispered, “Maybe she never wanted me alive.”
Sienna’s stomach twisted. “Don’t say that.”
“I mean it,” he said, eyes dark. “If she couldn’t have me, no one could.”
Silence filled the room.
Then Sienna spoke softly, but firmly. “You’re not hers, Dante. Not anymore.”
He turned to her, his expression unreadable.
For a long moment, they just looked at each other like two people standing at the edge of something neither could name.
The air between them pulsed with everything they weren’t saying.
He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly across hers. “If I lose everything again.” He hesitated, searching her face. “Promise me you’ll still be here.”
Sienna’s throat ached.
She wanted to promise. She wanted to tell him that nothing, not Isabelle, not the world could make her walk away.
But before she could speak, thunder boomed outside, shaking the window.
A single flash of lightning illuminated the wall and for a brief, chilling second, Sienna thought she saw something there.
A shadow. A figure, just outside the glass.
She gasped, standing quickly. “Dante”
He turned, following her gaze.
But when they looked again, it was gone.
Only the storm remained.
“I don't think we'll wake up to a good headline tomorrow morning.” Sienna said casually.
Dante glared at her, he said nothing
but rested his head on her shoulder. He wished he could remember everything that happened that day of the crash. He had things he wanted to know, who caused the crash? And why did the person want him dead?