CHAPTER 10: THINGS THAT SHOULDN'T MATTER
1065 Words
Restlessness did not suit Dante Moretti.
It clung to him like something foreign.
Something unwelcome.
Something… weak.
And yet...
It was there.
Unrelenting.
The estate was silent.
Too silent.
The kind of silence that made people uneasy without knowing why.
Guards stood in formation, their backs straight, their expressions blank. but their eyes…
Their eyes shifted.
Careful.
Watchful.
Because something was off.
"...He seems upset," one of them murmured under his breath, barely moving his lips.
Another scoffed quietly.
"Is it because of a woman?"
A pause.
Then a third voice, older, more certain...
"It's always because of a woman."
They fell silent immediately after.
Because the air shifted.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
As if something unseen had just passed through them.
No one dared to look toward the study doors.
Inside.
Dante sat behind his desk.
Still.
Too still.
A file lay open before him, untouched.
Ink dried on a pen he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
His mind…
Was elsewhere.
Again.
It had been happening more often.
Annoyingly so.
Unacceptable.
He exhaled slowly, leaning back into his chair, eyes closing for just a second...
And there it was.
That same image.
Uninvited.
Unwanted.
Her.
Not the Elara he knew.
Not the one who clung.
Who followed.
Who looked at him like he was the center of her existence.
No.
This version…
Was different.
Walking away.
Smiling.
Living.
Without him.
His jaw tightened.
His eyes snapped open.
A knock came.
Precise.
Measured.
"Enter."
The door opened quietly.
Martha stepped in.
Composed as always.
Unshaken.
She carried a tray with a single cup of tea, steam rising gently from its surface.
Routine.
Unchanging.
As if nothing in the world had shifted.
"As always," she said calmly, placing the cup before him.
Dante didn't respond.
His gaze lingered on the steam for a second too long.
Martha noticed.
Of course she did.
She always noticed.
But it didn't matter.
Her duty was not to question.
Only to report.
She straightened slightly.
"Your daily report."
A pause.
Then—
"Miss Elara Voss…"
She stopped.
Just briefly.
Breathing even.
Controlled.
"…She seems to be doing quite well for someone whose engagement got annulled."
There it was.
A crack.
Small.
Almost invisible.
But it existed.
A shift in posture.
A subtle stillness that hadn't been there before.
Dante masked it instantly.
Too quickly for most.
Not quickly enough for her.
Martha continued as if she hadn't noticed.
Because acknowledging it would imply it mattered.
And her job…
Was not to assign meaning.
"I heard she's currently studying medicine at the Royal Medical Academy."
Silence.
"People say she's good."
A pause.
"Nice."
Another.
"Outgoing. Full of life."
Each word landed.
Carefully.
Deliberately.
"No longer the rude, petty, pampered princess."
Something changed.
Not outwardly.
Not dramatically.
But internally...
Something fractured.
His jaw hardened.
The line of it sharper now.
Colder.
More defined.
A full minute passed.
Maybe more.
The silence stretched.
Uncomfortable.
Heavy.
Martha said nothing further.
She had already said enough.
Dante's fingers curled slowly around the teacup.
Warm.
Too warm.
The heat seeped into his skin.
Grounding.
Annoying.
Real.
"Leave."
His voice was low.
Soft.
But it carried something beneath it—
Something sharp enough to cut.
Martha bowed.
Turned.
And left without another word.
The door closed behind her with a quiet click.
Silence.
Complete.
Oppressive.
Dante stared at the door long after she was gone.
Then...
His grip tightened.
The cup trembled slightly in his hand.
Just slightly.
Then—
It shattered.
The sound was sharp.
Violent.
Porcelain hitting marble.
Tea splattering across the wall in uneven streaks.
Fragments scattered across the floor.
The room echoed with it.
And then—
Nothing.
Again.
Dante stood there, unmoving.
His hand still raised slightly from the throw.
His breathing steady.
Too steady.
He dragged a hand through his hair roughly, exhaling through his nose.
"…Why."
The word was quiet.
Barely there.
But it lingered.
His gaze dropped to the shattered pieces.
Then away.
As if even looking at them irritated him.
"…Why am I bothered."
No answer.
Of course not.
He scoffed softly under his breath.
Cold.
Dismissive.
"And besides…"
A pause.
His voice lowered further.
"I never loved her."
The words felt right.
Logical.
Correct.
So why...
His chest tightened.
Slightly.
Annoyingly.
"…Why do I feel like I've lost something…"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
His brows drew together faintly.
"…precious."
The word didn't sit well with him.
Precious?
Elara?
Ridiculous.
Absurd.
And yet...
It refused to leave.
He turned abruptly, walking toward the window.
The curtains shifted as he pulled them aside.
Outside...
The estate stood exactly as it always had.
Unchanged.
Controlled.
Perfect.
Everything where it should be.
Everything… except—
His thoughts drifted again.
Unbidden.
To laughter.
Soft.
Carefree.
Not directed at him.
Not waiting for him.
Not needing him.
His hand tightened against the curtain.
A knock came again.
Hesitant this time.
Dante didn't turn.
"Speak."
"Sir…"
The guard's voice faltered slightly from behind the door.
"There's… been a report."
Dante's expression didn't change.
"Continue."
A pause.
Then...
"Miss Elara Voss… was seen earlier today."
Stillness.
The guard swallowed audibly.
"…She wasn't alone."
Something in the room shifted.
Subtle.
Dangerous.
Dante's grip on the curtain tightened slowly.
Too slowly.
"…Explain."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Witnesses say… she was with a man."
A beat.
"Laughing."
Silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
The kind that warned before something broke.
Dante's reflection stared back at him faintly through the glass.
Cold.
Controlled.
Unmoved.
But his eyes...
His eyes darkened.
Sharpened.
Something unfamiliar flickering beneath the surface.
Something dangerous.
"…Who."
The question came out softer than expected.
But it carried weight.
Enough to make the guard freeze outside.
"We… we're still confirming his identity, sir."
A pause.
Then—
"He appears to be from the Royal Medical Academy."
Dante's expression stilled completely.
No movement.
No reaction.
Nothing.
And somehow...
That was worse.
"Find out who he is."
The words were quiet.
Measured.
Deadly.
"Yes, sir."
Footsteps retreated quickly.
Too quickly.
Dante remained where he stood.
Looking out.
But no longer seeing the estate.
No longer seeing anything in front of him.
Only...
That image.
Her.
Laughing.
With someone else.
His hand dropped from the curtain slowly.
His head tilted slightly.
Just slightly.
As if considering something.
As if calculating.
As if deciding—
"…Interesting."
The word was soft.
Almost thoughtful.
But his eyes...
They no longer looked empty.
They looked awake.
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