Chapter 48 A different story
Just like Sienna had predicted, the next morning came like a slap. Not the soft kind that wakes you gently, the kind that burns.
Sienna blinked at the blinding glow of the phone screen on the nightstand, still half-asleep. A dozen notifications pulsed across the glass like tiny bombs waiting to go off. She sat up and looked at the bed. Dante wasn't there. She reached for her phone groggily, rubbing her eyes and froze.
BREAKING NEWS: “Dante Varon’s Illegitimate Brother Revealed Scandal Behind Racing Dynasty.”
Then another headline followed, it was sharper and uglier. “Varon Heir Admits Mother Was Driven Away by Mistress.”
Her stomach turned cold. She scrolled further. The article quoted exactly what Dante had told her the night they were at the safehouse, it was written word for word. Every private confession. Every wound he’d trusted her with.
She couldn’t breathe.
Her first thought wasn’t about the press. It was him. He’d see this. He’d think. “No… no, no, no.”
Meanwhile, Dante sat alone in his study. The phone lay face down beside him. The silence pressed down heavily.
His father’s cold voice still echoed in his head. “Is this your version of recovery, son? Exposing family secrets to a stranger?”
Dante clenched his jaw.
He could still see Sienna’s face when he’d said the moments they shared that night.
He trusted her with information Isabelle never knew. He thought she was human, he felt he was talking to someone who loved him. He slammed his fist against the desk.
The sound startled him. He looked down, realizing his hand was bleeding again. But he didn’t even feel it.
Sienna's voice trembled as she tried to call him, but before she could dial, the sound of cane against marble reached her ears.
Dante.
He was already there storming through his room, still in his night clothes, his phone clenched in his fist like a weapon. His jaw was set, face pale, eyes blazing with the fury she hadn’t seen in weeks.
He tossed the phone onto the table, the screen lighting up with the last call showing he had a call with his father.
“Dante”
He cut her off, voice low but dangerous. “He called me,my father called asking if it was part of my healing process to humiliate the family name.”
His laugh was short. “Tell me, Doctor. Was that what you had in mind? A therapy session for the world to enjoy? Will this give you an award?”
Sienna’s breath caught. “What? No! I didn’t”
He took a step closer. “Then how did it get out? Those were my words, Sienna. My mother’s story. My family.” His voice cracked on the last word, and that hurt more than the anger. “You’re the only one who knows about it. My dad would never let it out, it would ruin his empire.”
She shook her head, panic flooding her chest. “I swear to you, I didn’t tell anyone. I’d never..”
“Don’t lie to me!” He slammed his right hand against the table. The sound echoed through the villa like a gunshot.
The air was thick, choking.
Sienna felt tears burn her eyes, but she didn’t look away. “You think I’d ever do that to you? After everything.”
“Yes,” he said, the word cutting like glass. “Because you’re just like everyone else. You listen, you pretend to care, and then you twist the knife.”
She stepped forward, shaking. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” He turned away, dragging a hand through his hair. “I should’ve known better than to trust you. I should’ve known you’d sell me out the second it got hard.”
“Sell you out?” Her voice cracked. “You think I’d trade your pain for what attention? Money? I was trying to help you, Dante.”
He laughed bitterly, still not looking at her. “Help me? You destroyed the only thing I had left. You destroyed my mother’s name. My brother’s privacy. My family’s le…”
“Your family never cared about you!” she snapped, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “They only care when they can use you.”
He turned sharply, eyes wild. “And what do you care about, Sienna? Tell me!”
She froze, unable to speak.
He waited for a beat, then said softly. “That’s what I thought.”
Then, quieter, almost to himself:
“I regret ever loving you.”
The words hit harder than any scream.
She felt something inside her go still. The room blurred, his face fading into a mess of light and sound. She swallowed, forcing herself to breathe. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered.
But he didn’t answer. He turned his back to her, that was the end of the conversation, the space between them became colder than winter. He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him
Sienna stood in the room in a daze. Then, she hurried to the wardrobe and pulled out everything that belonged to her. She packed her things slowly, folding, and zipping until she was fully packed. She took a deep breath. Her hands shook, but her face was blank.
She’d spent a few weeks fighting for him, breaking herself to hold him together.
Now, she couldn’t even hold her own heart steady.She didn’t cry anymore. There were no tears left. Only the heavy ache that comes after.
She whispered to herself, voice barely audible, “Maybe this is what he wanted all along. An excuse to hate me.”
The villa was silent as she stepped into the hall, suitcase wheels whispering against the marble. Every picture frame, every familiar corner suddenly felt foreign.
She reached the main corridor and then she turned to look at the house again, then she left, closing the door behind her.
Sienna stepped outside quickly, trembling. She wanted to scream but exhaustion held her still. She’d lost Dante. She’d lost everything.
Maybe love wasn’t supposed to heal. Maybe it was supposed to hurt, to show you where the wounds already were.
She was outside not knowing that inside the mansion, someone else was already dialing
Isabelle’s number again.
“She’s leaving,” the voice said softly. “What should I do next?”