LOGINDante’s pov, “Is that so,” I say, “I’m crying in my office.” The words leave my mouth as I let my eyes move to the table, to my seat that’s now being occupied. Lena’s in it, lifting her chin up like she dares me to say something. I don’t. I’m not playing her games today. I walk past her without a word and take her seat instead, dropping into it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She blinks at me. “That’s my seat.” “True,” I say, reaching for the bread. “Apparently we’re rearranging tonight.” “Dante…” “Care to explain yourself, or should we just sit here and admire how well you wear my chair?” Her jaw tightens. Diego who is sitting beside her, has gone very quiet, very interested in his plate. I catch his eye for half a second and he quickly looks away. “I don’t owe you an explanation for where I sit,” Lena says. “No,” I agree. “You don’t. Just like you don’t owe me one for all the secrets you’ve been keeping from me.” Her face shifts
Lena’s POV I sit on the bed in the guest room, my discarded dress lying like a rag on the floor. I’m in sweatpants and an old tee. My hair is all messed up and my eyes are red. I’m totally wrecked. I hear a knock on the door. It’s probably Maria. I pull a pillow over my face. “Go away, Maria,” I yell. I just need ten minutes to be mad, without anyone trying to fix me. She says nothing and then silence follows. A few minutes later I hear another knock. “Uhm... Lena? It’s Diego.” My stomach twists. “Maria sent me to check on you,” he continues through the door. God, I instantly feel like the worst person in the world. I just yelled at a grieving kid. I drag my hand down my face and get up. I make my way to the door on my bare feet and open it. He’s just standing there in joggers and a hoodie. He doesn’t look up, he's staring at his shoes like they’re fascinating. “Hey,” I say. “You didn’t have to come.” He shrugs. “She said I should.” “Well, Maria’s nosy.”
Lena’s POV I put on my jasmine perfume, and it fills the entire room. I’m standing in front of the mirror in a black silk dress. It falls to my knees and hugs me in all the places and I love it. The door suddenly opens behind me and I don’t have to look to know it’s him. His presence always changes the air. Dante’s strong arms come around my waist and he presses himself to my back and buries his face in my neck. “Jesus,” he mutters against my skin. “You’re going to kill me tonight.” I lean back into him. “Is that a complaint?” I ask, tilting my head so he can see me in the mirror. “Don’t flirt with me when we have to leave in twenty minutes.” “Who’s flirting?” I smile. “I’m just getting ready.” His hands slide up, resting just under my breast. “You look beautiful,” he says. “Thank you.” I turn in his arms to face him. And God he looks handsome. He’s tailored suit fits him so perfectly. The top buttons of his shirt are undone and I reach up and smoot
Lena’s POV I sit on the couch as Maria spreads fabric swatches across the coffee table and lines up three different vases like soldiers. “So the white roses for the center,” Maria says, tapping one vase. “And then maybe the peonies for the corners? I think Dante will like that.” I snort. “Dante doesn’t know the difference between a peony and a weed.” “Exactly,” Maria grins. “Which is why you should get the expensive ones. He’ll never know.” I’m about to answer when the front door opens. Maria and I both look up. Dante walks in and behind him is a boy. Thirteen, maybe fourteen. He has a duffel bag in his hand. My breath stops when I get a good look at his face. God. He’s the spitting image of Dante. A younger, smaller version of Dante. Same jaw, same eyes. How is that possible? My brain stutters. He looks exactly like him. “Morning,” Dante says. “Morning,” I say slowly. My eyes flick back to the boy.
Dante’s POV My phone lights up again on the desk. And the name flashing on the screen ruins my mood. *Camila: 24 hours are up. decide now I’m not waiting anymore.* I don’t answer. I just stare at the text for ten minutes, like if I look long enough the words will change. It’s either I leave Lena, or I take in Diego. But I can’t bear the pain Lena is going to feel when she finds out I have a son with another woman. I drag a hand down my face and my chest suddenly feels tight, like someone’s squeezing it. If Lena finds out… God. She’ll look at me like I’m a stranger. She’ll be so hurt. Which makes it so much worse. Because she’s been asking about a baby. She wants our kid. How do I tell her I already made one with someone else? I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. My heart is racing and I can’t get it to slow down. The door opens behind me and I hear soft footsteps. I don’t have to turn to know who it is.
Lena’s POV The car smells like expensive cologne and male ego. I’m in the backseat, between Marco and the window. “Port inspection,” Marco says again, like if he says it enough times I’ll change my mind. “Lena, you don’t have to do this. Let someone who can actually handle these things take over.” “I am someone,” I say, not looking at him. “And Dad made me Don. If he thought I couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t have.” “And he would also want you alive.” I finally look at him. “I can handle it, Marco. I’m not a child.” “You’re my sister.” “And I’m also Don,” I say. “Which means I don’t get to hide. My phone buzzes. I check and it’s an unknown number. I open it. It’s a photo of our car, taken from above. And attached to it is a text: We are always watching. My blood instantly goes cold. I maintain a calm expression even though I’m internally freaking out. “Who’s it from?” Marco asks startling me out of my thoughts. “Spam,” I lie. “You were saying,” I s




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