Chapter 61 The silk
The bag slid from Sienna’s trembling hands and hit the counter softly. Inside lay a gown, a deep sapphire silk that shimmered like midnight water and a pair of silver heels that caught the light. The kind of outfit that belonged in red carpets and royal ballrooms, not in her quiet, simple world.
Her throat tightened. “Dante, what is this?”
He smiled faintly, watching her reaction. “It’s for the gala.”
She blinked, shaking her head. “No. No, I can’t wear this. It’s.. it’s too much.”
He took a slow step closer, hands slipping into his pockets. “You said you didn’t have anything to wear.”
“I said I wasn’t going,” she reminded him, voice trembling between nerves and frustration.
He tilted his head, eyes warm but steady. “And I said you were.”
Sienna looked down at the gown again, its fabric catching the soft lamplight, smooth as water. It was breathtaking, and terrifying. It looked like something meant for someone else, someone who belonged in his world, who knew how to walk in heels like those and not look out of place.
She took a shaky breath. “Dante, you don’t understand. I’ll look ridiculous next to you. Everyone there will..”
He cut in softly, “Everyone there will see what I see.”
She looked up. “And what’s that?”
He didn’t hesitate. “A woman who makes me believe I’m worth saving.”
Her heart clenched at that. He said it so simply, as if it were a fact,as if her presence alone had rewritten all his broken edges.
But still, she whispered, “I can’t.”
Dante’s smile faded into something more serious. He took the dress from the counter, careful not to wrinkle it, and held it out to her. “You can. And you will. Not because of them. But because I want the world to see who you are to me.”
She stared at the gown, the fabric shimmering between them like a wall she didn’t know how to climb. “Who am I to you?” she repeated quietly.
He stepped closer, his voice low. “My choice,my peace, my woman, my everything. The person who made me walk again when I wanted to stay broken.”
Sienna swallowed hard, her hands curling at her sides. She wanted to believe him, she wanted to let herself exist in that moment of certainty but the fear still pressed against her chest like a weight.
She pushed the gown gently back toward him. “It’s beautiful, Dante. But I can’t accept it.”
He frowned slightly. “Why not?”
“Because gifts like this come with attention I don’t want.”
“You’re not a secret anymore,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t ask to be one!” she blurted, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “I just wanted peace. I wanted to help you heal and not end up on every gossip site again.”
The silence that followed felt sharp.
Then Dante exhaled slowly and placed the gown back in the bag. “Alright,” he said softly. “If you truly don’t want it, I won’t force you.”
Relief and guilt twisted inside her chest. “Thank you.”
“But,” he added, eyes glinting, “you’re still coming with me.”
She blinked. “What?”
He smiled, his usual dangerous, stubborn smile she knew too well. “You think I’d walk into a room full of people who used to worship Isabelle Laurent, without the woman who made me forget her name?”
“Dante, you don’t need to do this.”
“Yes, I do,” he interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “I’ve spent too long letting everyone decide who I should be seen with, what I should say, how I should feel. No more.”
He reached out, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “You’re not staying behind. Not this time.”
Her breath caught. “You can’t just..”
But before she could finish, he leaned forward and kissed her.
It wasn’t soft this time. It was slow, deliberate, the kind of kiss that left no space for hesitation. His hand found the back of her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair. She could taste the promise in it, the defiance, the wordless claim of a man who had finally decided to stop running from what he wanted.
When he finally pulled back, his voice was a whisper against her lips. “You’ll come with me.”
Sienna’s heart hammered so hard she thought it might burst. “Dante.”
He smiled faintly. “You think I’d ever let you hide from me again?”
Her voice trembled. “You can’t just order me to.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Then let me ask differently.”
His next words were barely a breath. “Come with me, Sienna. Let them see us together. Let them know you’re mine.”
She froze.
“Yours?” she echoed.
“Yes.” His hand slid down her arm, fingers tracing the inside of her wrist slowly. “Mine.”
Her eyes met his. “You don’t get to mark people like they’re possessions, Dante.”
He smiled not mockingly, but with a quiet sadness. “No. But I can love you in a way that makes the whole world know I do.”
Sienna swallowed hard, her voice barely there. “And what if I don’t want the world to know?”
“Then I’ll make sure they never forget anyway.”
She tried to steady her breathing, but he was too close, too steady, too certain.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering at her neck — right where the pendant rested. “You already wear my mother’s necklace,” he murmured. “That was her love. This ” his gaze dropped to the unopened bag, “will be mine.”
Sienna shook her head weakly. “You’re impossible.”
He grinned. “And you’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
She tried not to smile but failed. “You think you can just charm your way into getting what you want?”
He leaned closer, his voice low enough to make her shiver. “No. I think I can convince you to trust what you already feel.”
Her breath caught again, and for a long moment, neither of them moved. The air between them hummed, soft and charged.
Then she exhaled shakily. “You’re reckless.”
“I’m in love,” he corrected.
That shut her up.
She looked down at the necklace again, her reflection trembling in the small diamond. Every part of her wanted to run, to protect herself before the world tore her apart again. But another part deeper, quieter wanted to believe him. I wanted to see what it felt like to stop hiding.
He lifted her chin gently. “You’ll come with me?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’m scared, Dante. The world doesn’t forgive women like me.”
His eyes softened. “Then let them hate me instead.”
She blinked, startled.
He smiled faintly. “I’ve been hated before. I survived it. I’ll survive it again. But I won’t survive losing you.”
Her lips trembled. “You can’t promise that.”
He stepped even closer, his voice like velvet over fire. “Then I’ll show you.”
Before she could reply, his hands slid around her waist and pulled her gently toward him again. He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, stopped just before her lips.
“I’ll mark you as mine,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin.
Sienna’s pulse jumped. She looked up, startled, her voice barely above a whisper.
“How?”
Dante just laughed, which scared Sienna and made her wonder if he was going to stab her or draw something on her body as a mark.