Chapter 2 - THE DRIVE INTO THE DARK
My hand froze on the chrome handle of the car door.
Behind me, Dante’s heavy footsteps clicked against the marble portico.
The cold autumn wind whipped my hair across my face.
Anthony, our veteran driver, stared straight ahead through the windshield.
His jaw was locked tight.
He knew better than to interfere when Dante was angry.
“Elena,” Dante’s voice cut through the night air.
Sharper now.
Warning turning into command.
“Get in the car, and we are going home right now.”
I didn’t turn around immediately.
I let the silence stretch between us.
Every second I made him wait was a brick pulled from his fortress of absolute authority.
When I finally turned, Dante stood three feet away.
His charcoal jacket was unbuttoned.
His tie was slightly crooked.
His gray eyes burned with a dangerous mixture of shock and fury.
“You’re making a scene,” Dante muttered, glancing toward the glowing doors of the Halcyon Grand.
“I’m making a choice,” I replied softly.
“Don’t test me, Elena.”
“Why?”
“You know what happens when you push me.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
“What happens, Dante?”
“Do you lock me in the master bedroom?”
“Do you cancel my credit cards?”
“Do you remind me that without your name, I’m nothing?”
Dante flinched.
Just for a fraction of a second.
His pupils dilated.
“Nobody said you’re nothing.”
“Your friends did,” I said, looking straight into his eyes.
“And you agreed with every word by smiling.”
“I was playing a part,” he hissed, stepping closer.
“Men like Nico Valenti respect dominance.”
“They don’t respect a man who publicly devalues his wife, Dante.”
“They pity him for losing control.”
Dante’s chest heaved.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“Get in the car.”
“No.”
“Elena—”
“I’m staying at the townhouse on Madison,” I said, pulling my wrap tighter around my shoulders.
“Anthony, take me to Madison Street.”
Anthony swallowed hard.
He looked in the rearview mirror, catching Dante’s murderous glare.
“Mrs. Caruso—” Anthony started.
“Do your job, Anthony,” I interrupted, my voice steady and cold.
“I am still half-owner of Caruso Atlantic Holdings.”
“Drive.”
Anthony reached over and unlocked the rear door.
I slid inside the leather cabin.
Before Dante could grab the door frame, I pulled it shut.
The heavy door locked automatically with a satisfying mechanical thud.
Dante slammed his palm against the tinted window.
His face was contorted with rage.
I didn’t flinch.
I didn’t look away.
I simply pressed the button to roll the privacy partition up.
Dante vanished behind dark glass.
May you like
“Drive, Anthony,” I whispered as the car pulled away from the curb.
For the first time in eight years, I didn’t look back.
