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Chapter 38
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Jean
I wake up to the sweet buttery smell wafting into our hotel bedroom. I inhale deeply, the scent a welcome replacement to the obscene scents from my memories from last night.
Getting out of bed carefully, I pad through the room heading for the sweet welcoming aroma of food. My belly grumbles on cue, as I see Dante setting down two large coffee cups on the table.
“You got us take-out?”
Dante looks up at the sound of my voice, and it’s fascinating seeing him like this. So cozy, so domestic, but oddly it suits him.
His eyes linger on me longer than usual before he nods at my question, sitting down, one arm outstretched motioning for me to sit do
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Jean “You ready?” Am I? I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The dark blue gown Dante had picked for me hugs my body in all the right places. It’s modest compared to the white gown I wore during the last party, but the slit riding up to the top of my right thigh makes it dangerous enough. Like he had done for me before, Dante kneels in front of me to strap my thigh holster onto my left leg, exposing my legs to him. “
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The auction proceeds as scheduled, and for the first time since we came to Seoul, I feel at ease. The worry gnawing at me has been reduced to a light throb in the back of my mind. I watch the auction unfold uneventfully. I’ve been told to prepare myself, but so far things have been pretty mellow. Apart from the ridiculous bids and prices some of these items are getting sold at, nothing has seemed to surprise me. “How are you doing?” Dante asks as the bid caller closes another bid. “Okay,” I reply. “Just a little cold.”
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I’ve been wringing my hands together for the past ten minutes, palms sweaty, and legs bouncing reflexively up and down. Catching myself before I start biting my nails, I wipe my hands on my pants. “You okay?” Luca says, bringing me out of my intrusive thoughts. “You seem nervous,” he adds, nodding towards my sweaty hands. “Sorry,” I reply with a sheepish smile. “It must have been super distracting.” Luca ignores that and spares a glance at me from the driver’s seat. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know,” I admit, voice barely audible. “It’s fine, Luca. I’ll b
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“What’s this?” I ask Hana, dropping my bags on the floor just inside Dante and mine’s shared bedroom. We had just gotten back from Seoul and there’s nothing I want more than to sink into the bed and sleep off the fatigue, but there’s something about the way Hana’s looking at me that tells me not to. “It’s a letter, Miss,” she says, handing it to me. “It arrived about a few days ago. There’s no name or return address on it, but it’s addressed to you.” “Bianca?” I can’t help but choke out a sob, sinking to the floor cradling a postal envelope in my hands, careful not to crumple it. “Miss?” Hana drops ne
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To be dismissed like that, made to feel useless and weak like how Serafino made me feel, I never thought I’d feel it from Dante. And I sure as hell don’t want to be put in this position again. I want to help, in any way that I can. I want to be able to do something for the people who had helped me. Adeline, Hana, Killian, Luca, Daveed, and even Dante. These people have been so kind to me, and I want to be able to protect them too. I try to swallow down the hurt and frustration, unshed tears burning my eyes. I only get as far as the yard’s entrance before the burning feeling returns. I can hear them. Every man in that training center, preparing themselves
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“Stay here,” Dante says and I don’t argue. Besides his tone leaving no room for argument, I feel terrible. He had to practically carry me to the infirmary to get checked out. There’s no way I’m going anywhere for a while. And just like that, he disappears back into the woods. “Drink this,” a doctor says, her voice sweet and soothing. She’s pretty, but I don’t know her name yet. “What is it?” I ask, eyeing the brownish liquid in the cup. The doctor smiles sweetly before answering. “It’s just tea; to help you calm down. I checked you all over and apart from this big scratch on your right arm nothing else seems to be amiss.” Nodding n
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12 YEARS LATER. “Come on! We’re going to miss it! Hurry, Papa!” “Okay, okay. Slow down, sweetheart.” The man hastens after his daughter, weaving through a small crowd of people that had just arrived, same as them. The young girl complains, “We promised Lily we’d be on time—there!” she points to the entrance of the auditorium. “Lily!” Lily waves back frantically at her sister. “You made it, Rose!” Lily replies running up the remainder of the distance between them. “You missed the opening ceremony but the displays are out. Come on!” The twins leave their father behind, opting to rush inside the auditorium that was converted into a small gallery to display the artworks created by the students of the summer art program. The auditorium is large for a school with a population of only a few hundred, but the family decided that a private school was best for their kids. “Ah, you’ve finally arrived,” Jean greets her husband as he strides toward her. She looks as beautiful as ever with her
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Jean“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?” he asks when he notices the tear that escapes my eye. “I won’t have tears for our reunion, love.”I quickly wipe away the tears that managed to stain my cheeks and pull away from the man I used to call my husband.With my head still spinning, I manage to get out of work immediately with the promise that I would close the deal with the mysterious art donor.Dante—or rather, Gavin and I find ourselves behind the safety of my apartment doors soon enough.“Now,” I order just as the doors close behind us. “Explain yourself.”Gavin quirks an eyebrow at me, “Quite a warm welcome, love.” I sense the sarcasm in his voice which makes me roll my eyes at him.“When you explain yourself, I might reconsider.”“Why are you mad at me?” he asks almost in disbelief. “When everything I did, I did for you.”“For me?” I scoff loudly, returning the same energy and disbelief. “You left me alone for two years! Even when I asked you to come—” then shaking my he
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JeanI think it’s been three days since I learned about Dante’s death. Three days that I’ve stayed home, calling in sick for work because there’s no way I can hold myself together in public when I burst into tears every hour or so.It’s been three days since my world shattered.The television has been playing on the same news channel the whole time with me waiting for any developments. I dove into the deeper parts of the internet, looking for any information but there is none to be found.“This is it, huh?” I whisper to myself, clinging onto the fleece blanket wrapped around me as I stare out the window. The heavy rain doesn’t help my mood at all, but it gives me comfort that the sky weeps for my loss too.I go to sleep that night feeling a blackhole-sized void in my heart.~~~The next morning, I woke up with several texts from the gallery asking me to come back to work. I’ve informed them that I couldn’t come but it must be an emergency if even my head supervisor is leaving me voic
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JeanI don’t remember the bar being this stuffy, but I somehow find myself suffocating in the middle of a conversation with my colleagues. And suddenly the black dress I’m wearing is too short and too tight on my body.I shouldn’t have come tonight. It’s a full night at the club, and it doesn’t take long before I request to move to a private room. I’m met with various curious and lust-filled looks but I ignore them. Parisians know how to party, and oftentimes those parties involve more than just drinking and dancing, there’s always something more.I’m sure my colleagues assumed I was asking for more, but I simply needed to get away from the crowd.Lara invited way too many strangers, but I figured this party was more for them than it was for my work anniversary. But I go along with it. I’ll just have to find an excuse to leave a bit earlier than the rest of them.“Jean, why aren’t you dancing?” Lara pipes up hugging me from behind. I chuckle softly, she’s already buzzed. “Ditch these
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Jean I fumble with my coat as I reach for my phone in my purse. The rain hasn’t let up once since December rolled in. I would have preferred to stay in the office today, but the statement for Bianca’s tuition came in my email last night.I tried to call her, but Bianca’s phone seems to be turned off and I went straight to voice mail.“Hey, Bub. I’m on my way to the bank now to pay for your tuition and other fees. Let me know if you need anything else— Oh! And as usual, do you want me to release your trust yet or not? That’s all bye! Call me back!”The answer has always been the same. Bianca doesn’t want to touch the money our parents left us until she was making her own. And I took it upon myself to pay for her education despite her protests.But I still figured I’d ask her every four months or so. Bianca was sustaining herself by working part-time and getting free lessons by volunteering for every camp and workshop. But she grew up sheltered and pampered. As her big sister, I still
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DanteIn the end, Jean leaves like a thief in the night. She left no note except for the signed divorce papers on top of the living room center table. I watch from the balcony as Jean shoulders a small carry-on bag with only her essentials. Despite the thundering protests I feel stirring in my chest, I know that tonight is the night I lose her. From the corner of my eye, I spot a few men with guns trained at her, ready to fire at my command. Their previous orders were to not allow Jean out of their sight, which includes having to injure her if she gets taken away by enemies again. But this time is different.Luca stands beside me, watching the same scene unfold. “Dante, are you sure about letting her get away?”I understand his sentiments. The amount of time, money, and effort I’d put into making her mine, only to watch her walk away in the end.And I was sure. But as I watch her walk away, I find out that letting her go is the single hardest thing I’ve done in my life.“Yes, tell m
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DanteI let Jean cry in my arms. The contract was a way to keep us both tethered to each other, and now that it’s gone, there’s nothing officially tying us together. In a way, we both lost someone tonight.“What happens now?” Jean asks with the softest voice. She sniffles a bit before sitting up, but she doesn’t leave my lap.With us finally being at eye level, I can see how red Jean’s nose is, her cheeks are tinted pink as well. She’s beautiful, and I make sure to tell her just that.“Will you stay?” I ask instead, even though I know full well that Jean’s already made up her mind about this long ago.Her eyes soften as she takes me in fully. One of Jean’s hands comes up to cup my cheek, and she smiles ever so softly as she whispers my name.“Dante… I love you,” Jean starts and it’s the saddest I’ve ever heard her utter those words. I know there’s a but coming up. “I never asked for this life, and I—I don’t want any part of it.”Jean finishes talking, shaking her head from side to sid
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DanteThe day I’ve been dreading has finally come. The day that I let her go.I watch Jean silently as she stares out of the wall windows. With the rain softly pattering outside, it reflects my mood perfectly. Jean looks stunning even in sleep shorts and a pullover she stole from my closet. She looks so perfect in my clothes, in my penthouse… and in my life.Suddenly the folder in my hand feels heavier than it should be.I ground myself before approaching Jean, needing to be a hundred percent sure I can handle this conversation. Because once I start, there’s no going back.“Hey,” I whisper in her ear as I wrap my arms around her from behind. Jean leans into my touch, resting her head against my shoulder.“What is it?” she asks, a frown on her face as she turns in my arms to face me. She must have noticed my agitation. “Is everything okay?” Jean reaches forward and cups my cheek.“Yeah,” I reply simply, offering her a reassuring smile—at least I tried to. “Come here for a sec.”“Dante,
Fallen From Grace [Married to the Mafia Novel] Chapter 130
JeanUpon hearing those words, I notice that Dante had made himself scarce. Now that I think about it, he didn’t enter the living room with me and Bianca. He most likely left the penthouse to talk to Noah. How do I know that? Because there is no way in hell that Dante would have allowed Bianca to travel alone right when the investigation for the Regis family is about to start.But there’s something in the air that doesn’t quite feel like home.The woman in front of me may look like my little sister, Bianca, but she’s different. The last time I saw her she still had her baby cheeks and that wanderlust look in her eyes, but now that’s all gone.Her eyes no longer hold wonder in them but wisdom that only hardship and experience can mold. Her features look more angled, more mature.It makes me wonder if I somehow look the same to her or if I’ve changed in her eyes as she has changed in mine.I smile at my sister, albeit a little sad that I missed out on an entire year of her life. My baby
