Chapter 4
Crash.
The glass of water in Dante’s hand slipped and shattered against the floor.
In the next breath, he crossed the room in two strides and yanked me into his arms, holding me like I might vanish if he loosened his grip.
His familiar scent wrapped around me—warm spice, faint leather—but instead of comfort, it made my stomach churn.
I shoved him away, silent, refusing to meet his eyes.
“You weren’t supposed to leave,” he snapped, his voice a low growl of panic masked by anger. “I told you to wait for me.”
Realizing how harsh he sounded, he exhaled and softened, raising his hands to sign: *Next time, tell me where you're going. If there's danger, call me right away. Don't scare me like that.”
I stared at him blankly, then signed back with flat fingers: I'm tired.
Rolling onto my side, I turned my back to him and shut my eyes.
He hovered there for a moment, uncertain. Then he leaned down and brushed a kiss against my forehead. “Get some rest. I’ll grab some water.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Only then did I open my eyes.
His phone vibrated nonstop on the bedside table.
A message from Stella.
“Neriah, do you really believe one word from me wouldn’t make Dante drop you like trash and run back to me?”
A second later, the message was unsent.
But the damage was done.
My gaze drifted to the corner of the room. Hidden behind the curtain, a nearly invisible camera.
My blood ran cold. I snapped.
Grabbing the water glass, I hurled it across the room. It shattered against the lens with a satisfying crack.
When Dante returned, he froze in the doorway. Shards of glass littered the floor. Fury and heartbreak radiated me off in waves.
He rushed to my side, trying to calm me down, his hands signing frantic apologies.
Then his phone rang.
Caller ID: "Wife."
His eyes darted to the screen, then to me. He answered and turned away, signing as he lied to my face: It’s just someone from work.
“I’ve told you; I don’t love Neriah,” he said into the phone, tone gentle—affectionate. “I only love you. Don’t be jealous. I’ll be there soon.”
I sat in silence, my heart bleeding out.
When he hung up, he looked at me with guilt painting his face. “There’s a problem at the company. I’ll be back soon.”
I said nothing.
As the door shut behind him, I whispered to the empty room, “I won’t wait anymore.”
The next morning, I signed my discharge papers and took a cab downtown. My destination: the nearest jewelry shop.
I sold every necklace, bracelet, and ring Dante had ever given me.
But fate wasn’t done with its cruel games.
On my way out, I walked straight into Dante and Stella—shopping for baby supplies.
She looped her arm around his and smirked when she saw me.
“Honey, we don’t have enough yet,” she said sweetly. “Let’s go buy more.”
Dante’s face turned to a stone. Panic flashed in his eyes as he quickly signed: She’s pregnant. I’m just helping her out. She’s my sister—don’t get the wrong idea.
Before I could respond, Stella reached for my hand, pulled it lightly—and threw herself backward onto the marble floor.
She collapsed, gasping, as blood began to stain her white dress.
“Neriah!” she screamed, voice trembling. “Why did you push me?! My baby—”
A crowd gathered.
Dante’s face twisted in rage. Without a word, he slapped me—hard.
The impact made my ears ring.
Then he bent down, scooped her into his arms, and disappeared.
I stood there, stunned, blood trickling down the side of my mouth.
Later, I hailed a cab to a local charity and donated the cash from the jewelry sale. Every dollar.
I didn’t want a single trace of him on me anymore.
Two hours later, I sat in the airport lounge, waiting for my flight. My phone buzzed.
A message from Dante.
I was just upset. Please rest. We'll be together soon.
I stared at it, then hit the record.
“Dante,” I said, voice calm, emotionless. “We’re done.”
I hit send, then removed the SIM card, dropped it in the nearest trash bin, and blocked his number forever.
Three hours later, I arrived in Greensburg. The cool evening air greeted me as I stepped off the plane.
Waiting outside baggage claim were Bureau Chief Morris and Nancy Blanchard, my old friend from the academy.
Nancy sprinted toward me, hugging me tight. “My God, Neriah—what the hell happened to you? You’re skin and bones.”
I held her for a long moment, letting her warmth seep in.
Back at my temporary apartment, I sat on the edge of the bed and installed a new SIM card. As soon as it activated, a message came through from a former colleague.
Neriah, you misunderstood everything. Dante really does love you.
Watch the video. Please.
My hands trembled. But my heart? It was numb.
