Sold Back To My Mafia Husband Chapter 08
Scars That Never Heal
The music stopped after Bianca said it.
“I’m Elena now!”
Her voice cracked across the ballroom.
Every Don turned. Wives stopped smiling, and guards moved closer to their weapons.
Dante turned first.
Slowly.
Bianca looked like she wanted to drag the words back into her mouth, but it was too late.
She had lost control, and everyone saw it.
I stayed seated at the Rossi table.
Julian’s hand rested near mine. Not touching. Waiting.
Dante stared at Bianca. “What did you just say?”
Bianca’s lips trembled. “I meant—”
“No.” His voice dropped. “Say it again.”
She reached for him. “Dante, she’s trying to confuse you. She’s not your wife. She’s some Rossi trick.”
I stood.
Everyone watched me walk.
I walked past Bianca without looking at her and headed toward the terrace doors. I did not rush. I did not hide.
Behind me, Dante followed.
Of course he did.
Julian moved too, but I lifted one hand.
“Give me five minutes.”
His eyes held mine. “Three.”
I almost smiled. “Four.”
He nodded once.
The terrace was cold. I stopped near the railing and waited for Dante to speak. The glass doors shut behind Dante, cutting off the whispers inside.
For a second, he did nothing.
Then he said my name.
“El.”
I hated how my body still knew that sound.
I hated that part of me still remembered loving him.
He took one step forward. “I found out too late.”
I laughed once.
It came out flat.
“Too late?”
His face twisted. “Lorenzo lied to me. He told me you went over the cliff that night. He showed me blood, your ring, and a burned body. I searched for years.”
“You invested in his club.”
He went still.
I tilted my head. “Nine years, Dante. You owned part of The Velvet Underground for nine years.”
“I didn’t know you were there.”
“You didn’t look.”
His hands curled at his sides.
“I was building power,” he said. “For you. To avenge you. To take everything from the Vallis when the time was right.”
“The time was right when they took me.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Good.
I stepped closer.
“You shook Lorenzo’s hand.”
“I needed him close.”
“You called me Valli leftovers.”
His face drained.
“I didn’t know it was you,” he whispered.
“No. You just thought I was some other woman they destroyed. That made it fine?”
He flinched.
I reached for the clasp at my throat and pulled the black fabric down enough to show my shoulder.
His eyes dropped.
The skin there was ruined with burns, old knife marks, and a brand surgery could not fully erase.
“My throat closes every time a man stands too close behind me,” I said. “My hands go cold when I hear a lock turn. I still wake up reaching for a door that is not there.”
Dante’s eyes went glassy.
“Stop,” he said.
“No.”
I pulled the fabric back into place.
“You don’t get to look away now.”
He took another step and reached for me.
Before his hand reached my arm, my guard pressed a gun to his stomach.
Julian’s guard stood beside me, silent and steady.
Dante froze.
I looked at the guard. “It’s fine.”
The gun did not move.
Dante swallowed. “You’re marrying him?”
“That bothers you?”
“You’re my wife.”
I stared at him.
The nerve of him almost made me laugh.
“Your wife was on your floor covered in blood, and you told them to get her out because you didn’t want to see her face again.”
His jaw shook.
“I was wrong.”
“You were cruel.”
“I’ll fix it.”
“You can’t.”
“I can burn Lorenzo alive for you.”
“You should have done that ten years ago.”
His breathing broke.
Then Dante Moretti, Don of New York, dropped to his knees in front of me.
Right there on the terrace.
“El, please.”
The man I once worshiped knelt at my feet, and I felt nothing at all.
“I loved you,” he said. “I never stopped.”
“You loved being the man who mourned me. You loved the power you got from my story.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I bent close, my lips near his ear.
“You said you didn’t touch me because I was dirty. I should thank you for that. Every inch of you that touched Bianca would have made me sick.”
He shut his eyes.
I straightened.
“And since you love business so much, here is your real problem.”
He looked up.
I smiled.
“I cut your cash routes two hours ago. Your banks are frozen. Your port captains flipped. Your judges are answering Rossi calls now.”
His face changed.
For the first time, Dante looked scared.
I turned toward the ballroom.
“By sunrise, Dante’s operation was falling apart without a single shot at first.”
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