"No," I answered immediately, my voice steady despite the dangerous pressure of his fingers against my throat. "I don't feel pity for him. I don't feel anything for him."
Dante's dark eyes searched mine, searching for any flicker of a lie. He leaned closer, his chest pressing flush against mine, the scent of rain and dark tobacco completely enveloping me.
"Then why didn't you smile?" he demanded softly.
"Because destroying him didn't make me whole," I whispered, the truth slipping out in the quiet foyer. "I got my company back. I got my revenge. But the girl who believed in love, the girl who thought the world was kind... she's still dead. I was just mourning her."
Dante's tense jaw slowly relaxed. The terrifying, cold jealousy that had hardened his features vanished, replaced by a dar
