Page 43 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

Was that true? Dante let Valentina move into his apartment?

I didn't want to believe it. But Luca had no reason to lie.

I lifted my head, forcing my voice to stay steady. "That's just what you heard. I'll believe it when I see it myself."

Luca's expression was complicated—sympathy mixed with regret.

"Elena, you deserve someone who'll actually love you." He stood, setting his cup down gently. "I'm telling you this so you can see the truth. So you don't end up regretting it later."

He got to his feet. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

After Luca left, I sat in the pavilion for a long time. The afternoon sun was still warm, but I couldn't feel it.

I picked up my phone and texted Dante. "The suit design is ready. Come home for dinner tonight so I can take your measurements?"

His reply came quickly. "Alright."

Relief washed over me.

He was still answering my texts, and he hadn't made me wait. He still cared. I was sure of it.

Even if Valentina was staying at his place, maybe she just had nowhere else to go. Maybe Dante was just helping her out for old times' sake.

I found reasons that made sense. I rallied. I arranged for materials, planned dinner, and spent the rest of the afternoon preparing. I waited for Dante to come home.

When it got dark, I heard sounds from the front gate. I checked my outfit and hair, then walked out to the hallway to meet him.

I'd dressed carefully today—something elegant from the closet—and had Lucia help with my hair. I looked polished. Pretty.

Two people came through the door. I looked up, and my smile froze.

Dante stood there in a charcoal suit, his tie impeccably knotted. And on his arm was a tall woman with striking confidence: Valentina.

She wore a champagne-colored dress, her hair loose over her shoulders, a perfect smile on her face as she leaned in to say something to Dante. He tilted his head to listen, the corner of his mouth lifting in what almost looked like a smile.

I stood in the shadows of the hallway, watching them come in. Valentina's laugh echoed through the foyer, light and carefree, like she was the one who belonged here.

And I was the one who didn't.

Dante finally saw me. His gaze swept over my face for a split second, then moved on like I was nothing.

"Elena." His tone was flat, like he was assigning a task. "Valentina's never been to the manor. Have the kitchen prepare her favorites."

Valentina followed his gaze to me, her smile warm and gracious. "Hi, Elena. Dante invited me for dinner. I hope you don't mind the intrusion."

I stared at her hand on Dante's arm, her pale fingers curled tight around him. And Dante just let her. He didn't say a word.

My chest felt like someone had punched straight through it.

"This is our home." My voice shook. "Dante, what are you doing, bringing Valentina here?"

Dante's mouth curved into something mocking. He pulled Valentina closer and looked down at me. "Elena, I don't like women who play dumb."

He walked past me toward the dining room, Valentina at his side.

I stood there, watching them disappear together. Valentina said something to him. He leaned in to hear. The gesture looked practiced, natural—like they'd done it a thousand times before.

The sight stabbed through me. I wanted to scream, to throw something, but suddenly I had no ground to stand on.