HELENA’S POV
“His body went into shock so we had to put him in a medically induced coma ”
“We’d have to monitor him closely ”
“Several head trauma ”
The doctor was speaking but I could barely hear him over the maddening noise in my head where I kept replaying Dante’s voicemail
I love you we can work it out
When had he sent the voicemail, was it before or after he had gone to Gianna’s hotel room? I didn’t seem to know how to stop the burning in my chest, or the endless thoughts that drifted in and out of my head.
I stood at the door of Dante’s hospital room, my heart pounding painfully in my chest as I watched him lying there, tubes and wires attached to his body. His face looked paler, his usually strong, commanding presence reduced to stillness.
I was confused. Conflicted. Just hours ago, I had resolved to leave him-leave everything about Algreen Cove behind. I wanted out, to start over, to free myself from the never-ending cycle of chaos. But now? Now, with Dante on the brink of death, I wasn’t so sure anymore. How could I leave him? How could I walk away when I still loved him-when I had always loved him?
Tears pricked at my eyes, threatening to spill over, but I wiped them furiously with the back of my hand. I couldn’t cry. Not here. Not now. I had to be strong, or at least pretend to be.
Just as I tried to gather myself, Matteo appeared beside me, his familiar scent-a mix of cologne and something inherently him-beginning to register in my head. He hadn’t said a word, but I knew he had been watching me for a while.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.
“As my cousin and king of Algreen Cove, yes,” Matteo replied coolly. “But as your husband? I’d hope not.”
I didn’t even look at him. I wasn’t surprised by his words. It was just Matteo being Matteo, his bitterness towards Dante barely masked. But his next question sliced through me like a knife.
“Why do you love him so much, Helena? When he does nothing but hurt you?”
I opened my mouth, wanting to say something-anything-but nothing came out. Because the truth was, I didn’t have an answer. Dante was the first man I had known. The only man I had ever truly known. He had hurt me, yes, but he was also the only person who had ever made me feel alive. It was twisted, and maybe even pathetic, but I loved him despite everything.
“So that’s why you’re conniving with Gianna?” I asked, my voice hardening. “So she can have him?”
Matteo shrugged. “They deserve each other. They are both soulless people”
I didn’t say anything. There was no point. Instead, I pulled away from the door, my feet moving automatically as I walked past him. Matteo fell into step beside me, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the sterile hospital halls. The cold night air greeted us as we stepped outside, stinging like drops of ice against my skin.
For a while, we walked in silence, the weight of everything pressing down on us. Finally, Matteo spoke. “It’s crazy,” he said, his voice softer now. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that kiss.”
I stopped walking, my heart sinking as I felt his eyes on me. I didn’t want to look at him because I knew what I’d see. His gaze would be intense, filled with emotions I didn’t have the energy to deal with. Not now. Not with Dante lying in a hospital bed.
“And be honest with yourself, Helena,” Matteo continued. “A little part of you knew it wasn’t him.”
He wasn’t entirely lying. That night, I had been drunk, out of my mind. I could’ve convinced myself that it was anyone, and I had been too far gone to care. But this? This wasn’t the time for whatever Matteo thought this was.
I turned to look at him, exhaustion pulling at me from all sides. It felt like Matteo was on the verge of saying something more-of professing his undying love-and I didn’t have the strength to deal with it. I just wanted to go home, slip into one of Dante’s shirt and imagined me holding him till I fell asleep.
“Look, Matteo, we can act this script another time, but I’m exhausted, okay?” My voice was tired, flat and I yawned to ease off the exhaustion.
“Goddammit, Helena,” he snapped, frustration leaking into his tone. “How do you want me to spell it out for you that I want you?”
I stared at him, stunned by the intensity in his voice. His anger rippled through the air, and I could feel the tension thickening between us.
“I’m married to your cousin,” I said, my voice low.
Matteo scoffed, his expression darkening. “Well, not if he’s dead.”
My eyes widened at his words, the chilling way he said it making my blood run cold. There was a dark glint in his eyes, something dangerous that glistened beneath the surface. I took a step back, the weight of his words settling in my gut.
“I’m going home,” I muttered, turning to leave. But before I could take more than a few steps, Matteo grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him with surprising force.
“Let go of me,” I hissed, trying to yank my arm free, but his grip tightened. His eyes burned into mine, a wild intensity flashing in them. Before I could say anything else, Matteo leaned in, pulling me closer, trying to kiss me. Panic surged through me, and I reacted on instinct.
I slapped him-hard. The sound echoed in the cold night air, and Matteo staggered back, his cheek reddening from the impact.
For a moment, neither of us said a word. Our heavy breaths filled the space between us, tension crackling in the air. Matteo’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening into something murderous.
“You’re going to pay for that, you fucking bitch,” he spat, his voice low and menacing and then he walked away from me. I wasn’t sure how to define it, but something ticked in his gaze something angry and murderous and I have never been so terrified in my entire life.