**~ANASTASIA~**
The ride back to the estate is unnervingly silent. I sit in the back seat, trying to process what just happened and the whirlwind of emotions that has followed me from the rooftop. Alessio sits next to me, a stony presence that does little to ease my anxiety.
The silence between Dante and me is thick and suffocating, broken only by the soft hum of the engine. As we drive through the winding streets, my mind races with the image of Matteo Russo and the chilling scene I witnessed. I can still hear the echo of the gunshot and see the bloodied man lying lifeless on the rooftop.
When we finally arrive at the penthouse, Dante's anger seems to simmer just beneath the surface. He throws open the car door and pulls me out roughly, the motion jerking me to my feet. Alessio steps out and opens the door to the apartment, giving us a silent nod before stepping aside.
Dante guides me up the stairs with a firm grip, his anger palpable with each step. We enter the master bedroom, and he slams the door shut behind us. The sound reverberates off the high ceilings, making the room feel even more oppressive.
Dante's face is a mask of fury as he faces me. "What the hell were you thinking, sneaking off like that? Do you have any idea what kind of danger you could put yourself in?"
I cross my arms defensively, trying to meet his gaze without flinching. "You are in no position to yell at me, Dante. You are clearly the reason I left, so don't even do that."
Dante's eyes narrow, his voice a harsh whisper. "You could have been more mature about it and stay right here to talk it out, instead of running away like some 18 year old."
I glare at him, the frustration boiling over. "Oh, I should have stayed and talked it over? Can you even listen to yourself? You fuck a woman right under the same roof as your wife and this is what you say? Aren't you going to apologize and tell me that will not repeat itself again?"
His expression hardens. "This marriage was never meant to be about love or affection. It's a business arrangement. I married you for convenience, and nothing more. Yes, I will apologize for the disrespect, but don't expect me to coddle you. I'm not obliged to be faithful to you, Anastasia."
My chest tightens at his words. "I have my own life, my own choices. Do you think I want to be stuck with a man that will never respect me or in a marriage as complicated as this? I mean, I haven't even spent a week here and I'm already losing my fucking mind!!"
Dante sighs. "Look, I will assure you nothing of such will occur again in this house but I can't promise what will happen outside. I'm no sweet husband, Anastasia and I believe you understand that." He walks away from me to the table and starts taking of his wristwatch.
I scoff in disbelief. What was I expecting anyways?
"You should know that I'm not just going to sit around and accept this treatment."
He snorts and shakes his head. "Do what you want, Anastasia. I honestly don't care."
"So you're saying if I fuck some other man, you won't care?"
He pauses at my question and turns to me. I blink in confusion at the anger that flashes through his eyes and I step backwards when he approaches me.
My back hits the wall and traps me between his hands. "Look, Anastasia. I don't care what you do. As soon as the business is done, we will get a divorce and you can return to your old man for all I care. Just..." His eyes harden. "Don't become a whore in the process."
I scoff, "Well, I should be saying that to you instead."
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever you do, don't make things difficult for me and stay away from people you know you should stay away from."
"And how would I know the people I should stay away from?"
"Learning not to poke nose and mind your own business will be a great start." He moves away from me.
"I will not fuck you." I stare firmly. Even though this marriage is not by love or affection, he's a man after all and he has needs but I will never let that happen. I'm too annoyed and irritated by him to even let him kiss me. He can go to hell with his whores for all I care.
He stops in his track but does not turn around. "I'm not begging you to, am I?" He walks into the bathroom.
I'm about to explode from anger and I can feel tears threatening to fall down my cheeks. I walk over to the bed and sit down before reaching for my phone to call Mila.
"Hey sweetheart, I was about calling you. Are you alright?"
I lift my head to hold my tears from falling. "I... I just want to go home." The tears start streaming down my cheeks anyways.
"Oh honey, please don't cry. Don't let that asshole of a husband make you sad."
I sigh, "I... I just hate not having a control of anything. He can do what he likes but I can't?"
"Please tell me he apologized for what he did earlier."
I roll my eyes. "As if. He only apologized that I had to see it happen inside the house."
"Wait, what?! He's an asshole. He cannot treat you this way!"
I sniffle, "This is so annoying. I hate this place."
"Oh baby, please stop crying. Should I come over?"
"You know that won't be easy, Mila. Your father is capo, he will not allow you leave Russia like that."
"I can try to convince him, Anna. He will let me come if it's to visit you."
I sigh. As much as I want her here with me right now, it's not that simple. Our lives aren't like those of normal people. We can't just travel freely. We're always under heavy guard, and we have to tread carefully on each other's territory.
"Yes, your father likes me, and his boss is my papa. But your papa can't just let you come to Dante's territory without ensuring your protection."
Mila sighs. "You're right. If only Dante weren't such an asshole. All he has to do is agree to be in charge of my safety while I'm there."
I pause at her words. She has a point. Her father might allow her to visit if Dante guarantees her protection—but how do I convince Dante to agree?
I sigh, "I'll talk to him, Mila. I really need you here."
"Me too love. I have really missed you." Mila says.
I sigh. "We'll talk tomorrow Mila."
"Alright, love. Goodnight."
I end the call with Mila, my heart heavy with the situation around me. The room feels colder now, the silence punctuated by the sound of water running in the bathroom. I stare at the closed door, my mind racing with the implications of what Mila suggested. Getting Dante to agree to Mila's visit seems impossible, especially after the way he's treated me tonight.
But I need her here. I can't do this alone.
The bathroom door opens, and Dante steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is damp, droplets of water tracing the lines of his chest. He doesn't look at me as he moves towards the closet, but I know he's aware of my gaze. There's a tension in the air, a charged silence that neither of us seems willing to break.
I stand up, wiping the remnants of tears from my face. My heart pounds as I cross the room towards him. "Dante," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. "What is it, Anastasia?"
I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I want Mila to visit."
He raises an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing slightly. "Mila? Your friend from Russia?"
"Yes." I nod, trying to keep my voice steady. "I need her here with me but she cannot come without your... Your permission. You can ensure her safety, right?"
Dante's lips press into a thin line as he considers my request. "Why would I agree to that?"
Of course, here we go. "Well, because," I say, stepping closer, "you owe me that much. After everything…after today…you owe me this, Dante."
His eyes flicker with something—regret, maybe, or perhaps a flicker of understanding. He looks away, running a hand through his damp hair. "I don't owe you anything, Anastasia," he finally says, his tone colder than before.
Anger flares up inside me. "So that's it, then? You don't care if I'm miserable, as long as I play my part in your little business arrangement?"
Dante turns to face me fully now, his expression hardening. "You knew what this was from the beginning. I'm not here to make you happy. My job is to keep you safe and for your father to uphold his end of the deal."
I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. "And what about my happiness? My sanity? Does that mean nothing to you? To any of you?"
He takes a step forward, his presence looming. "Your happiness is not my concern, Anastasia. My concern is ensuring this arrangement doesn't fall apart and to ensure you don't cause trouble for me."
I stand my ground, refusing to back down. "Then consider this a part of that arrangement. I need Mila here. I need someone I can trust."
Dante stares at me for a long moment, the silence between us growing more intense. Finally, he sighs, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," he says, his voice clipped. "I'll make the arrangements for her to come. That's only if her father agrees by the way. I have no time to waste on convincing anyone. She'll be under my protection. She will stay in one of the apartments here and if anything happens, it's on you."
Relief washes over me, though his words are laced with a warning I can't ignore. "Thank you," I whisper, my voice trembling slightly.
Dante doesn't respond. He turns away, heading back into the closet. The door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, a mix of emotions swirling inside me.
I head to the bed, feeling exhausted by the day's events. The sheets are cool against my skin as I slide beneath them, pulling the covers up to my chin.
My thoughts drift back to the brief glimpse I caught of Luca at the club, and I can't help but wonder what he was doing there. Was he there to murder someone like I witnessed the third mafia don do? What kind of person is Luca, really? Do I even want to find out?
XOXO