Chapter 4

Harper’s POV

Since the surgery wasn’t happening anytime soon, it was time for the casino tour—scouting the location, taking in the layout.

“Babe, I want to come too. I’m so bored at home,” Gianna pouted, clinging onto Dante’s arm.

If there was one thing Dante hated the most, it was distractions during serious work. I figured Gianna might finally get her first real taste of rejection today.

But instead, he smiled. “Of course. Mi amor.”

Right. I forgot. Gianna was the mighty Dante’s exception.

So at the end, the three of us—plus two guards—all piled into the black SUV. Gianna slid into the passenger seat without hesitation. I was wedged into the back, crushed between two guards built like refrigerators.

The drive was mercifully short. Twenty minutes, tops.

The second I stepped out, I drew in a breath.

"This way,” Dante said, already tugging Gianna along by the hand.

There weren’t many people inside today. But judging from the layout, the place had potential. Five stories tall, with the kind of grandeur you only see in overly ambitious blueprints. At full capacity, it could hold ten thousand people—easily.

“I thought this floor could be my office,” Dante said suddenly, glancing at me. “Close to the action downstairs, but still near the meeting rooms.”

I didn’t respond.

“And I can even add a nursery next to this office,” Dante added, his gaze lingering on me. “After you give birth, I can help with the baby here. Just like I promised.”

Too bad there won’t be a baby anymore. And worse—this office won’t be yours either, Dante.

“This floor does make a good office,” I said, circling the space.

Suddenly, two gunshots cracked near the elevator—followed by a wave of screams and frantic shouting.

Out of instinct, my eyes searched for the only familiar person in the chaos—Dante. And for a moment, he was looking at me too. Our gazes locked.

“I—”

Next second, Dante’s attention snapped back to Gianna. “Harper, find somewhere safe. I’ll come back for you once I get Gianna out.”

Two seconds later, the two of them vanished into the crowd.

And suddenly, I was alone—stranded on this unfamiliar floor with no one beside me.

“Mrs. Moretti, this way!” A guard came up from the fire exit and barked.

I shielded my stomach instinctively as I moved.

I was finally approaching the main gate after five minutes. From a distance, I saw Gianna, curled into Dante’s arms, sobbing like a frightened child. “I’m so scared.”

Dante was murmuring to her gently, soothing her. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. “We are safe, see? We are safe now.”

I watched him promise her the world with that low, comforting voice I hadn’t heard in ages—the same voice that once asked if I was alright, back when I’d been kidnapped and he came to save me.

“Mr. Moretti,” the guard called, breaking the moment.

Dante turned—and saw me. His gaze flicked to mine. “Sorry, my wife Gianna is my priority… I have to get her out first before I protect anyone else.”

Wife.

If Gianna was truly your wife… then who was I to you? Just anyone else, huh?

A memory hit me then—one I hadn’t thought about in years. When Dante and I had just gotten married, he took me along to one of his negotiation meetings. It went south fast. The other mafia leader pulled a gun and threatened the entire room.

I’d seen plenty of chaotic scenes, but nothing this raw. So I panicked.

It was the first time Dante ever snapped at me. “Don’t fucking show your weakness in front of others.”

Watching him with Gianna today—seeing how gently he soothed her, how quickly he lowered his rules whenever she so much as furrowed a brow, how he dropped everything the second she wavered—made it all suddenly, painfully clear.

Dante never loved me the way he said he did. Maybe he cared. A little. Though I doubt it was ever about me. More likely my family name and my money, or just the comfort of routine.

And this constant stream of excuses and hollow promises about “taking care of me”… just how stupid did they really think I was?