Chapter 41
The courtroom was a stage, and I was the king presiding over a farce. The elders those wrinkled, power–hungry relics–thought they could judge me, strip me of my birthright over a lovers‘ spat. Pathetic. I sat on my chair, smoke curling from my cigarette, watching them squirm in their self- importance. My wife’s stunt at the club had given them an excuse to flex their dusty authority, but I wasn’t worried. They couldn’t touch me, and they also know i
Still, the sight of Elara walking in, her black dress clinging to her curves, sent a jolt through me. She looked pale, fragile, like a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering. Part of me wanted to pull her into my arms, to crush her against my chest and crase the guilt etched on her face. But I couldn’t. She needed to learn, to understand the weight of her actions. So I kept my gaze fixed ahead, cold, deadly, even as my blood simmered beneath the
surface.
When she sat beside Nero, I caught his smirk from the corner of my eye. My brother, always stirring the pot.. I could guess what he was whispering
to her.
Elara’s wide–eyed desperation was almost amusing. She was so innocent, so easily manipulated. I’d have to deal with Nero later, but for now, I let it play out
Then the elder called her forward, and my pulse quickened. She was supposed to go to the witness box, but instead, she turned toward me. My little vixen. Her heels clicked with purpose, and before I could react, she slid onto my lap, her arms wrapping around my neck like she owned me.
My body tensed, every muscle locking as her warmth seeped into me. Fuck. The way she moved, the way her ass pressed against my thigh, it took every ounce of control not to grab her hips and pull her closer. A fucking week away from her feeling like enternity.
Her fingers trailed along my jaw, her nails grazing my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I wanted to devour her, to claim her right there in front of everyone, to show them exactly who she belonged to. But not yet Control is the key.
She was playing a dangerous game, and she didn’t even know it. As if without warning, she cupped my face and kissed me. Hard. Possessive. Her lips crashed against mine, demanding, insistent. It was a declaration, a fuck–you to the entire room.
My blood roared, heat flooding my veins. I wanted to kiss her back, to tangle my fingers in her hair and ravage her mouth until she begged for mercy. But I didn’t I sat there, still as stone, letting her pour her frustration into me. She bit my lip, a sharp sting that sent a jolt straight to my groin. Fuck, she was testing me. My hands itched to grab her, to flip her over and take her right there on the throne. But I held back. Barely.
She pulled away, breathless, her eyes searching mine for a reaction. I gave her nothing.
The car ride back home was silent. She was playing with her fingers while Dante couldn’t wait to get home,
As soon as he stepped in his room, he went to take a relaxing bath, leaving her alone.
* I regret yelling at her that day. Seeing her sad and tearful eyes made my heart ache. I know she was desperate to talk to me. But just wait a little, my wife.” He was lost in his thoughts when the door creaked open, and Elara slipped inside. Dante frowned, his brows knitting together as he turned to face her. She stood there, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands, her eyes darting around the room, avoiding his gaze.
“What
are you doing here?” He asked while continuing his shower. He was naked, water dripping from his powerful frame, but he made no move to cover himself.
Elara stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… just..” She trailed off, her fingers twisting together in nervousness and guilt.
“Since when do you stutter?” he snapped, remembering her performance in front of the elders, though his tone lacked the bite he intended. He stepped out of the shower, the water pooling at his feet as he moved toward her. Elara gasped, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of him. every curve of his torso, the scars that mapped his skin. She couldn’t help but stare, hear flooding her cheeks and a familiar ache stirring in her
core.
“You didn’t answer me, wife, Why an
are you here?” His voice was lower now, almost a growl, and it sent shivers down her spine. She bit her lip, still refusing to meet his eyes, her gaze fixed on the floor,
Dante closed the distance between them, his hand shouting out to catch hers, stopping her from backing away. “Do you want to take a bath with your husband?” he asked, his tone half–teasing, half–serious. Elara’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she thought he might be mocking her. But when she finally dared to look up, she saw something else in his eyes desire.
Before she could respond, Dante reached up with his free hand and tugged at the tie holding her hair in a bun. It came loose, her dark locks tumbling down to frame her face and cascade over her shoulders. She shivered at his touch, her body reacting instinctively
But she surprised him, as without warning. Elara stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his naked torso, pressing herself against him. Her head rested on his bicep, and Dante felt the tension drain from his body as her heartbeat thudded against his chest. She closed her eyes, a soft hum of contentment escaping her lips as she revelled in the warmth of his embrace. It had been a week since they had been this close, and she had missed him terribly.
Chapter 41
“Are you still angry with me?” she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the sound of the running water. Dante didn’t answer immediately, his hands tightening around her waist as he let her words hang in the air,
“I apologise for my reckless behaviour,” she continued, her voice trembling. It was stupid of me. I admit it. I was an idiot. I promise I won’t do anything like that again. Just… please don’t be mad at me. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over, and Dante felt his resolve crumbling.
“Sometimes I let my envy take over,” she confessed, her voice cracking. “When I saw her near you. I lost it. It felt like a disrespect to me, to our marriage. Gifting a woman to a man who’s already married it mocked my virtue. I’m sorry. I should have handled it better.”
Her eyes filled with sorrow and regret, finally met his, pleading for the forgiveness she so desperately sought. Dante’s heart ached at the sight, and he knew he couldn’t stay mad at her. Not when she looked at him like that.
“Shh,” he murmured, placing a gentle finger on her lips to silence her. With his thumb, he wiped away the tears that had begun to fall, his touch tender despite the roughness of his hands. He didn’t say anything else. Elara’s breathing slowed, her body relaxing against his as the storm of emotions began to subside within her.
Suddenly, his eyes turned dark and cold. “Are you really sorry for your actions, wife?” Dante’s voice was dangerous. His grip on her waist tightened.
Elara swallowed hard, her throat becoming dry. She nodded her head. “Words” He commanded
* 1-6 am”
Show me how sorry you are, Mrs Romano… strip”
