Chapter 3: The Night That Should Never Have Happened

Elena's POV

He didn’t let me utter Kevin’s name.

The moment my back touched the bed, Dante braced his hands on either side of my head and looked down at me, his dark eyes piercing into me.

“Not him,” he whispered, his voice deadly quiet, but gave no room for arguments. “Not in this room, not while you’re with me. If you stay, you stay for your own reasons.”

I managed to plop my head up and down slowly.

“Now, say them,” his chest vibrated against my tummy.

My heart was still racing from everything that had happened downstairs, the image of Claire’s bare shoulder, the necklace, Kevin’s soft voice, it all still sat under my skin.

But looking at Dante, something else rose higher.

“I want to destroy the girl who waited,” I said, the words came out rougher than I expected. “The one who checked her phone for his replies, the one who made herself smaller so he would be comfortable. I want her gone.”

His gaze didn’t soften, but something behind his eyes tightened.

“And?” He asked.

I swallowed hard, lifting my hands and resting them against his chest. I could feel the heat off him through the open shirt.

“And I want you,” I said. “I’ve wanted you longer than I've ever been willing to admit. Even when I wasn’t supposed to look at you that way, I did.”

For a second, he just watched me. Then he nodded once, as if I had passed some private test.

“Then look at me,” he said. “While you choose this.”

I did, then pushed the remains of my wedding gown off my shoulders and let it falll, the expensive fabric pooling around my hips.

I shifted my body, gently pushing him over till I climbed over him without waiting for any permission.

I straddled his thighs, the heat off his body rising to meet mine. His hands settled on my waist firmly, but not forcing anything.

He was still giving me the chance to stop.

I didn’t take it though.

And when I lowered myself and planted my lips on his this time, there was no hesitation left. He met me with equal hunger, one hand sliding up my back, the other gripping my hip hard enough to leave a mark.

We moved from the edge of the bed further into it, the sound of our lips against each other and our heavy breathing filled the quiet penthouse.

He rolled us such that I was beneath him, then again so I was on top, never quite letting either of us settle into a single position for long.

Every time I tried to close my eyes, he made me open them again.

“Here,” he murmured against my lips. “With me. Not running from anything.”

I nodded breathlessly. “With you.”

What started with fire slowly withered down, the revenge I had in me didn’t quite disappear, but it stopped being the only thing driving me.

When he lowered his head and dragged his lips down my throat, across my collarbone, and lower, I stopped thinking about the suite downstairs.

When he left slow, deliberate marks across my skin, neck, and the upper curve of my chest, the soft skin of my stomach, I stopped thinking about the wedding that would never happen.

My hands found his hair, his shoulders, the hard line running down his back. I pulled him closer instead of simply accepting what he gave.

At some point, he paused, breathing hard, his forehead resting against mine.

Before he could ask again, I caught the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

"Yes," I breathed against his mouth.

The low sound he made vibrated through me as I wrapped my legs around him... and lips at his ear.

I wasn’t using Kevin as a reason any longer, I wasn’t using anyone. And when it ended, I was shaking and damp with sweat, my body heavy and loose in a way it hadn’t been in years.

He stayed inside me for a long moment afterwards, breathing against my neck before carefully shifting us so that I ended up in his lap, my bare back against his chest and the sheet tangled around our hips.

My phone started ringing on the table.

I knew who it was without looking over at it. Dante’s arm was still around my waist, I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing against my spine.

I reached out, picking up the phone and answering the call, and put it on speaker without saying a word.

Kevin’s voice filled the quiet room.

“Elena. Where are you? You need to come downstairs right now,” he said roughly. “People are starting to notice, my mother is asking questions. You can’t just—”

He stopped when he realized I wasn’t responding.

“Elena,” he said again, tighter this time. “Answer me.”

I stayed silent, then Dante’s thumb moved slowly across the skin of my hip, as if he was reminding me he was still there.

Kevin’s tone melted, the authority in it cracking first into frustration, then into something closer to panic.

“Please, just tell me where you are, we can fix this. I was wrong, okay? I panicked,” his voice cracked. “Claire means nothing, you’re the one I want to marry. Come back and we’ll pretend tonight never happened.”

In the background, Claire’s voice cut in. “Don’t beg her. You’re making it worse.”

Kevin ignored her. “Elena baby. Please.”

I looked down at my own body, at the marks Dante had left on my skin, at the way I was still sitting naked in his lap, leaning into his heat against my back.

There was nothing left to say that the silence wasn’t already saying clearly. So I hung up.

For a moment, the room was quiet again, except for our breathing between us. Then my eyes fell on my wedding gown discarded near the foot of the bed, on the expensive white fabric wrinkled and abandoned.

Something in my chest finally gave way, pulling the tears out hard and sharply. It was messy, painful, the kind that came from finally understanding that a years-long relationship had ended in a single evening.

Dante didn’t tell me to stop, he didn’t try to kiss the tears away or turn the moment into something else.

He simply reached up and began taking the pins out of my hair, one by one, letting the strands fall loose around my shoulders.

And when the last pin was gone, he rested his hand lightly against the back of my neck and waited.

I looked down at my left hand, at the faint mark the engagement ring had carved into my skin. I had already dropped the ring into the champagne glass downstairs, but for a split second, I could see it around my finger..

Then slowly, I rubbed my thumb over the empty spot, as if making sure it was really not there.

Outside, the city kept moving, and downstairs, a wedding that would never happen was still falling apart piece by piece.

But in this room, the only sounds were my shaky breathing and the calm, steady beat of Dante’s heart against my back.

My phone started vibrating again on the nightstand, but this time, Dante reached past me and picked it up, answering it without putting it on speaker.

His voice was calm, final, and completely unbothered by whatever reaction it would cause.

"She is staying here tonight."

A beat of silence.

"And Kevin? Don't come to this floor again."