Chapter 1 - THE TEAR HE COULDN'T FORGET
“There are bandages in the kitchen.”
Dante stopped.
“Excuse me?”
Elena shifted the folded linens against her hip.
“Your hand, sir. You're bleeding.”
He looked down at his knuckles as though he'd forgotten they belonged to him.
“It's nothing.”
“My mother says that's what men call injuries when they don't want to admit they hurt.”
For a moment, Dante simply stared at her.
Then he laughed.
Not the polite laugh he offered businessmen.
Not the cold amusement that preceded a threat.
A genuine laugh.
Elena blinked.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”
“No,” he replied. “You probably shouldn't have.”
She lowered her eyes.
“But you're right.”
He looked at his hand again.
“Where are these bandages?”
Ten minutes later, Dante Moretti sat at the kitchen table while a woman he'd known for less than an hour cleaned the cuts across his knuckles.
Margaret stood by the doorway, watching with astonishment.
Nobody touched Dante Moretti without permission.
Yet Elena had simply placed a first-aid kit on the table and told him to sit down.
And he had.
“Does this hurt?” Elena asked.
“No.”
She pressed antiseptic against the deepest cut.
His jaw tightened.
“Liar,” she murmured.
Dante looked at her.
She froze.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
That was how it began.
Not with roses.
Not with promises.
With a bandage and a conversation in a kitchen after midnight.
During the weeks that followed, Elena discovered that Dante was a man of contradictions.
He could terrify a room without raising his voice.
Yet he always thanked the kitchen staff.
He controlled businesses worth hundreds of millions.
Yet he sometimes ate dinner standing over the sink.
He could order armed men across the city.
Yet he had no idea how to make coffee without burning it.
One evening, Elena found him in the kitchen at two in the morning.
He stood before the coffee machine, staring at it with open hostility.
“Having trouble, sir?”
He glanced at her.
“This thing hates me.”
She smiled.
“It's a machine.”
“Then it's a very personal machine.”
She showed him how to use it.
He watched carefully.
Then asked:
“Why are you awake?”
“Couldn't sleep.”
“Why?”
She hesitated.
“My mother had another appointment today.”
His expression softened.
“Is she all right?”
Elena nodded.
“For now.”
Dante leaned against the counter.
“Margaret mentioned the medical bills.”
Elena stiffened.
“I don't want charity.”
“I wasn't offering charity.”
She looked at him.
“Then what?”
He considered his answer.
“A better insurance arrangement for the household staff.”
Two weeks later, every employee at the estate received expanded health benefits.
Elena knew Dante had done it because of her.
But he never mentioned it again.
That made it harder not to fall in love with him.
Then Vanessa Bennett arrived.
Beautiful.
Wealthy.
Confident.
And determined to become Mrs. Dante Moretti.
Vanessa's father, Richard Bennett, controlled a powerful investment company.
He had been negotiating a merger with Dante for months.
The engagement was announced shortly afterward.
Elena remembered the day she heard.
She had been arranging flowers in the drawing room.
Margaret entered carrying a newspaper.
“Mr. Moretti is engaged.”
Elena's hands stopped.
“To whom?”
“Miss Bennett.”
Elena stared at the roses.
Then nodded.
“That's wonderful.”
But it wasn't.
Not for her.
Because three nights earlier, Dante had found her crying in the greenhouse after a difficult call from her mother's doctor.
He had sat beside her.
Said nothing.
Then quietly offered his hand.
She had taken it.
And for one impossible moment, she had believed the man who frightened an entire city might feel something for her.
Now, at his engagement party, she understood how foolish she'd been.
Back in the ballroom, Dante watched the service door close behind Elena.
Vanessa touched his arm.
“Darling, you're making a scene.”
He looked at her.
“No.”
His voice was cold.
“You did.”
Richard Bennett stepped closer.
“Dante, perhaps we should discuss this privately.”
Dante looked toward the door Elena had disappeared through.
Then back at Richard.
“There's something I need to understand first.”
Richard frowned.
“What?”
Dante's expression hardened.
“Why does your daughter seem so determined to humiliate a woman who has done nothing to her?”
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“Honestly, Dante—”
He interrupted.
“And why did Elena's former employer suddenly accuse her of theft three months before she came here?”
Vanessa's smile vanished.
Richard went completely still.
May you like
Dante noticed.
And in that instant, he realized the engagement wasn't the only thing built on a lie.
