Sinless

CHAPTER2

A Shattered Illusion

Dante’s POV

The past seemed to me like a story with a neat finale—a jagged, painful end—but an end nonetheless. Here she is, living right before me, though. Her presence shocks and starts something deep inside me—a raw sense of betrayal mixed with the strong need to defend what used to be mine.

Leaning across the street against the wall, I watch her through the diner window. She not truly has not seen me yet. Unlike what she used to do. Her eyes would constantly hunt me out in the past, driven naturally to anyplace I was. She is suddenly somewhere else, though, her eyes fixed on the young kid seated at her side. a young person. My pupil.

As I see it, a flurry of emotions slams into me. A daughter had always seemed to be just an abstract, far-off concept. Now, though, seeing her, I can sense her existence as a startling, scorching reality revealed.

Watching Aria kneel down and her face soften as she speaks to the small daughter, my hands twist into fists. I always knew her; I could read her like an open book, but I never knew this side of her—that of the mother. And it's frustrating.

—–

Crossing the street doesn't make me second-guess. Her eyes widen in disbelief as they capture mine across the glass. Rising fast, she steps out to meet me with a look combining dread and defiance.

We just look at one another for a few seconds, quietly hanging thick between us. She seems the same as she did years ago—guarded and attractive, but something else also stands out. She appears stronger somehow, and it both irritates and fascinates me.

You ran, I say at last, my voice low. The charge is clear, slicing through the street's noise.

Her eyes narrow, and defiance sparks. "I must."

Had to? I too echo, incredulity coloring my words. "I looked for you, Aria. years. And this is where I find you. Acting dead with a youngster I never knew about?

She turned away, reluctant to look back at me. I had my motives.

"Reasons??" I say again, a sour laugh breaking out. "Nothing justifies keeping my own daughter away from me."

Her shoulders stiffen, and for a brief instant I almost regret the ferocity of my voice. I cannot, however, just overlook this betrayal.

"Dante," she adds, sounding as if she is begging. I did it for her protection. To guard both of us. Being in your world, always looking over my shoulder, always wondering if it was the last day I would see the sun—you have no idea what it was like.

"Is that what you define me to be?" My voice is low and rough, I ask. "That I would damage our child, hurt you?"

She responds not, but her eyes tell enough. Although I have known the gloom all my life, her mistrust aches like nothing I have ever experienced.

+/-

I glance at a movement before I can answer. This is the girl, Sofia. Her inquisitive eyes wander between me and Aria as she stands at the diner door. Her dark and strong eyes reflect my own, and for a moment it feels as though I am staring at a bit of myself I never knew existed.

The image makes me feel vulnerable in an odd way; I rarely let myself indulge in this sense. My kid, this small girl, is part of me and yet a stranger. My heart contracts, a great protectiveness taking over.

"Mommy?” Sofia's little voice disturbs the quiet tensely.

Aria's face softens as she turns to face me; something inside me turns as well. She is a nice mother, one thing that stands out to me now among all my wrath and bitterness.

"Sofia, honey, return indoors. Mommy will be right there, Aria adds gently.

Sofia nods and looks back at me a second longer before vanishing back into the diner. The moment hangs weightfully with unsaid words.

"Aria," I say softly, my fury melting down and replaced with a frigid will. "This is not finished." One cannot simply grab my child and vanish. You owe me answers.

Her face gets hard, but under the defiance there is fragility. Perhaps I do. That does not imply I am allowing you to re enter our lives, though.

I am here whether or not you let me. I am entitled to be part of her life and know her. I stop, realizing how weighty my own words are. And I will battle for that right, Aria. Whatever it means.

She stumbles, and I see a flash of terror in her eyes. She sits her ground, though, raising her chin. "Dante, you once knew a different woman than this one. You cannot scare me any more.

Though the tension buzzes between us, I hold back from pushing farther. Not right now. I sense the barricades she has erected around herself, the anxiety still lurking beneath her fortitude. I will have to be wise and patient if I am going to knock those walls down. She will find me, not the monster she has created for her.

"Fine," I step back and reply. "But this is not the last. We shall chat shortly.

I turn and go, my head already working through the next actions. Not after approaching this near will I lose them once more. I will find a means back into their life, whatever it takes.

I leave my penthouse, not returning. Tonight the city seems alive, the streets humming with restless energy that reflects my own. I find myself meandering around the known lanes, mentally revisiting the meeting with Aria over and over.

I halt before a little tavern, the sidewalk dimly lit by its neon signs. Inside, I get a drink and slink back against the aged leather booth while the booze helps some of the stress fade.

A man drops into the booth across from me as I begin to relax. I know him right away—Luca, my confidante and most trustworthy buddy. His presence reminds me of the duties I left behind tonight, both welcome and unpleasant.

His voice a deep rumble, he replies, "Didn't expect to find you here." He is always able to read me too well and looks at me sharply.

"I need a break," I say, sipping another. "Things did not turn out as expected."

He arches his eyebrows. Regarding Aria, "this about"?

Surprised, I quickly looked at him. Although Luca has always known more than he reveals, this time his timing is absolutely perfect.

She's alive, I murmur, the words still weird to my own ears. And she is the mother of a daughter. My kid.

Luca's face changes to combine surprise with understanding. "That clarifies your recent ghostly behavior."

"She doesn't trust me," I remark coldly. She believes I remain the man I was before. I would use my own child to underline control.

Luca nods slowly. You cannot exactly point the finger at her. You have changed, Dante; nevertheless, the past cannot be completely deleted. Trust is also not something you can compel.

Though I don't let it show, the words really touch a nerve. "I'm not giving up." I will show her I am unique.

Luca backs off, a trace of a smile flickering at the margins of his mouth. "Just keep in mind, Dante, this is not a commercial negotiation. You are dealing with a formerly beloved woman. And a child—a small girl ignorant of you.

The stings from the reminder are real. Aria and Sofia are individuals, not objects to be acquired or lost; I cannot employ my typical strategies to reenter my life from here.

I nod slowly, a scheme starting to develop inside my head. You're right. I am not going away from this, though. Should I have to modify it, I will do so. All the necessary means.

Luca gives me a rare, encouraging clap on the shoulder. "Then you have my backing, manager. Though I can, I will help.

I sit back as he goes, my head whirling. I am aware that the route forward will not be simple. I have to be patient if I am to regain the confidence I lost. One thing I am sure of, though, is that Aria and Sofia are worth every struggle and sacrifice.

And this time I'll make sure they stay.