Chapter 5
“The shirt,” Valentina admitted, “was Marco’s mistake.”
Isabella looked back.
“What?”
“My suitcase was delayed. Marco told one of the staff to find something comfortable. Someone misunderstood.”
“And you didn’t correct it?”
Valentina looked embarrassed.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because when I walked downstairs and saw you looking at me…”
She paused.
“I realized you were the first person in years who looked at me like a person instead of a negotiation.”
Isabella did not know what to say.
Valentina picked up her bag.
“You should know something.”
“What?”
“Dante has always been good at protecting people.”
She smiled sadly.
“But he has never been good at realizing that protection without communication can feel like abandonment.”
That sentence stayed with Isabella long after Valentina left.
Dante did not call her for three days.
That was the hardest part.
Not because she wanted him to chase her.
But because she expected him to.
She expected flowers.
Security outside her apartment.
A dramatic speech.
Something.
Instead, there was silence.
Until the fourth morning.
When she arrived at her studio and found him sitting outside.
No guards.
No expensive car blocking the street.
Just Dante Moretti wearing a dark coat and holding two coffees.
She stopped.
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting.”
“For?”
“To talk.”
She looked at the coffee.
“You know I don’t forgive people because they bring caffeine.”
“I know.”
That answer surprised her.
He looked tired.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
“I spoke with Marco.”
“And?”
“He admitted he made the mistake with the shirt.”
Isabella nodded.
“And?”
“I fired him.”
She frowned.
“Dante.”
“Not because of the shirt.”
He looked at her.
“Because he told me yesterday that he didn’t think he needed to inform you about the situation because I would handle it.”
A pause.
“I realized everyone around me has been treating you like someone who needs to be protected instead of someone who deserves to be included.”
Isabella said nothing.
Dante stepped closer.
“I was wrong.”
The simplicity of it affected her more than a long speech would have.
“I spent years believing love meant keeping someone safe from the ugly parts of my life.”
He swallowed.
“But I forgot that keeping someone outside the truth is another kind of loneliness.”
Her expression softened slightly.
“I don’t need you to be less powerful, Dante.”
“I know.”
“I don’t need you to stop caring about people.”
“I know.”
“I need you to stop making decisions about my life without me.”