Chapter 11
Dante visited Elena the following evening.
He asked first.
She agreed.
No lawyers.
No bodyguards inside.
Her apartment was smaller than he expected.
Not poor.
Not luxurious.
Normal.
A couch.
Books.
A half-built crib still in its box.
Dante looked at it.
“You need help?”
Elena immediately said, “I can build a crib.”
“I meant carrying the box.”
She almost smiled.
“Probably.”
They sat at the kitchen table.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Dante said:
“I’m sorry.”
Elena looked at him.
“For what part?”
“Not noticing.”
“You got fake messages too.”
“I know.”
“That matters.”
“It doesn’t erase that Thomas had too much control over my personal life.”
Elena stared at him.
Dante continued.
“People around me learned that if they spoke confidently enough, they could act like my authority belonged to them.”
“That wasn’t your plan.”
“No.”
“But it was my system.”
She looked down.
That distinction seemed important to her.
Dante did not ask whether she still loved him.
Did not ask whether they could start again.
Did not suggest moving into his estate.
He asked what she wanted from him as the likely father of her child.
Elena had thought about it.
“Medical decisions are mine until the baby is born.”
“Yes.”
“You can come to appointments if I invite you.”
“Yes.”
“No security following me unless there is an actual threat.”
“Yes.”
“No money without paperwork I understand.”
“Absolutely.”
“If we confirm paternity after birth, we get a formal parenting agreement.”
“Yes.”
She looked surprised.
“You’re making this easy.”
“No.”
Dante looked at her.
“I’m trying not to make it harder.”
That answer stayed between them.
Then Elena asked:
“Did you love Victoria?”
Dante took time before answering.
“Yes.”
Elena looked away.
“Do you still?”
“No.”
“How can you know that fast?”
“Because love without trust becomes a memory very quickly.”
Elena did not respond.
Dante understood there was a second layer to the question.
If he could stop loving Victoria so quickly, what had his feelings for Elena been?
He did not try to solve that tonight.
Before leaving, he helped open the crib box.
He held two wooden side panels while Elena read instructions.
They assembled exactly one-third of it incorrectly.
Elena laughed.
“You run companies.”
“Not cribs.”
“Apparently.”
For twenty minutes, the story stopped being about conspiracy.
May you like
Dante needed that.
So did she.
