Page 66 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

His gaze was too soft. I was drowning in it.

"I'll go change."

In the end, I gave in.

I changed into a light blue cotton dress—loose around the waist, hem falling just below my knees. Perfect for a pregnant woman. Comfortable and easy.

Outside, the poinciana leaves rustled in the evening breeze. The streetlights had just flickered on, casting warm orange light down the road. Dante pulled up in a car—complete with a driver. We sat in the back, hands locked together.

It was strange. We'd done far more intimate things, but just holding his hand like this made my heart race like it might burst.

The restaurant was on the side of town that faced the ocean—a two-story white building with a terrace set with white-clothed tables and chairs. When we walked in, the place was empty. Dante had rented it out.

The sea breeze drifted in from the terrace, salty and damp. A candle flickered on the table, the flame swaying gently in the wind.

Dante sat across from me, cut his steak, then switched plates with me. "Take your time."

I gripped my knife and fork, looking at him expectantly. "Dante, are we... on a date?"

"Aren't we?"

Dante smiled—a rare, gentle expression that didn't fit a man in his position. He took care of me through the meal, poured me a non-alcoholic drink, and reminded me to protect the baby.

I ate slowly, carefully. Morning sickness made me cautious.

"I've never told anyone about my mother," Dante said. His hands folded together. His gaze drifted toward the ocean.

"Her name was Isabella. She was young when she married Salvador. He didn't love her. He married her to produce an heir, and Isabella didn't belong to any faction."

"After I was born, Isabella became worthless to him. Salvador locked her up in the manor. Wouldn't let her work. Wouldn't let her have friends. My mother loved to paint, but Salvador said the lady of Moretti Manor didn't need to paint. He forbade her from touching a brush."

I set down my knife and fork, listening intently. Dante's expression was full of sorrow. I could feel his pain, slipping into the story he was telling.

"When I was little, I'd see her hiding in her room, crying. She'd stare out the window for hours. All day sometimes." Dante paused, his brow furrowing. "Until one day, she jumped out of that window. No one knew."

The sea breeze seemed to stop. The candle flame stood still, reflected in Dante's eyes.

"She didn't leave a note. Death was her escape. She abandoned me. She abandoned Salvador." Dante's hands curled into fists. "It was all Salvador's fault. That's when I started hating him. He controlled Isabella. He controlled me. My whole life, everything I did was under his control."

"That's why I resisted you so much. You represented his control over me." Dante's gaze landed on me, but it wasn't cold like before. "It wasn't that I hated you. I hated Salvador."

"Dante..."

I couldn't help but say his name. I stood, walked over to him, and wrapped my arms around him. His head pressed against my stomach. He held me like a wounded child.

"Elena, I've always resisted marriage. I was terrified my wife would end up like my mother." He looked up at me. "But you changed that. You're kind. Capable. When you face problems, you fight back. You solve them. You gave me confidence."

He'd laid bare his deepest wound. And all I felt was heartache. My resistance to Dante melted away.

"Dante, you won't become Salvador," I said, stroking his face. "You're not the same person."

Dante stood and pulled me into his arms, kissing my cheek. "Thank you, Elena."

He lifted me onto the table and bent down to kiss me. I drowned in his tenderness, couldn't help but wrap my armsaround his neck. Dante kissed me deeply. He sucked on my tongue until it went numb. He was breathing hard when he finally pulled back, staring into my eyes the whole time.

"Elena, I can't leave you. So if you decide to stay here, I'll stay with you."

His tone was serious. Certain. Like he'd already made up his mind to be with me.