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CHAPTER 45

Author: Nancy Grey
last update publish date: 2026-04-08 21:52:00

Andrea's POV

I woke up the next morning and Dante was nowhere to be found.

The bed beside me was cold, the sheets rumpled but empty. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, feeling the soreness between my thighs and the tenderness of the marks he'd left on my skin—physical reminders that last night had been real and not just another one of my dreams.

Then I noticed the note on his pillow.

I reached over and picked it up, recognizing his bold, masculine handwriting
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    Andrea's POVHe was in the kitchen, his back partially to me, attending to something on the stove. He was wearing dark sweatpants that sat low on his hips and absolutely nothing else. The full landscape of his tattooed back and shoulders was on display, the ink catching the warm kitchen light as he moved—shifting, reaching, the muscles beneath responding with that effortless fluency that his body always had.I stood in the doorway and simply looked at him for a moment. This man who had held me together through the worst weeks of my life. Who had stood in hospital corridors with his jaw clenched and his fists at his sides trying to contain his own grief so there would be room for mine. Who had whispered reassurances in the dark when the panic attacks came and never once made me feel weak for having them.He turned, sensing me there.The smile that crossed his face was immediate and unguarded in a way that I still wasn't fully used to. Dante didn't smile carelessly. When he smiled like

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    Andrea’s POV"Then we'll be there to help him figure it out. Dahlia." I turned to face her fully. "Whatever we walk into in that room, we walk into it together. Okay? You're not doing this alone."She nodded. Looked back at the window.I believed everything I'd said. I believed it completely.The hospital doors slid open and I felt it—that familiar rush of antiseptic air that had come to mean so many things over the past weeks. Fear, mostly. Hope, sometimes. The smell of waiting.But today it smelled different somehow. Or maybe I was different.Dahlia was already moving through the lobby before I'd fully processed walking through the doors. Dante fell into step beside me and I glanced at him, and he looked back at me with an expression that was still carefully controlled but had something lighter underneath it now."He made it," I said quietly, just to say it out loud."He made it," Dante confirmed.We reached the ICU corridor. The nurses who'd come to know us by now looked up with sm

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    Andrea’s POVWeeks passed like this. Slow and heavy, each day much like the last.And then everything changed on a Thursday afternoon.I was in the kitchen when the call came through.Dante was at the table across from me, working through a stack of documents that Luca's organization had generated in the weeks since the explosion. Someone had to keep things running, and that someone had quietly, inevitably become him. He hadn't complained once. Hadn't talked about the weight of it, hadn't acknowledged the exhaustion that showed itself only in the slight tension around his eyes and the way he sometimes sat very still for a moment before turning the next page.I'd been watching him more than I was watching my own laptop screen, which had a half-written chapter on it that I hadn't touched in forty minutes.My phone lit up on the table between us.Unknown number. Hospital prefix.We both saw it at the same time.I grabbed it so fast I nearly knocked over my coffee."Hello?""Is this Andre

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    Dahlia’s POVI woke up with the dawn like someone pulling a curtain back. The sunlight was soft and pale through the curtains, and for a few slow seconds I only felt the safe, warm quiet of the bedroom. Then the memory of last night slid back in — the bangs, the glass, Liam’s shout. My chest tighten

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    Dahlia’s POVThe car came to a slow stop in front of the boutique, its sleek glass walls gleaming under the sun. From the outside, it looked like something out of a magazine—tall white pillars, gold lettering above the door, and mannequins dressed in elegant go

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    Dahlia’s POVLuca looked up from behind his desk, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, without saying a word, he nodded at Dante. Dante understood immediately, closing the laptop in front of him and standing up. He gave me a polite nod before walking out of the office, leaving Luca and me a

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    Dahlia’s POVAnd then—suddenly—silence.Everything went still. The only sound left was the faint ticking of the car’s engine cooling and the thudding of my own heartbeat. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My body trembled uncontrollably, and I realized I was crying so hard that my whole chest hurt.T

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