HER REVENGE

chapter 11

Chapter

Dante pov

The night was over and sunlight shone into the room. I turned to the other side of the mattress, tapping it to check on Alina. My fingers met cool fabric, no warmth, no body, just empty space.

I blinked, eyes wide open now.

Gone?

"What are you looking for?"

Her voice curled through the room, a familiar silk I could never confuse for anyone else’s. Curtains rasped against the rod as she tugged them aside, letting the sun spill its gold all over the floorboards.

She was standing tall, barefoot in one of my shirts again, holding the curtains like the sun belonged to her.

I chuckled under my breath.

"Good morning," she said, not turning.

"Good morning to you, Alina," I mumbled, voice still half-asleep, half-entrance.

She let go of the curtains, releasing the light like a weapon. It spilled over her face, across the ridge of her cheekbones, the arch of her brow, the slight swell of her lips,unsmiling.

That’s when I noticed it.

She wasn’t just standing there for the morning breeze or aesthetics.

Her feet padded across the floor as she turned, eyes scanning the table by the window. She picked up a brown file, thick and crooked like it had been handled too many times this morning already.

And then with no hesitation, no "babe, sit first" or "you may not like this"

She flung it.

It landed with a soft thud beside me on the bed, right where she would have laid.

"Check it out," she said, folding her arms. "Your assistant, what's his name again? Henry came over and dropped it. Said it was urgent. Oh, and... I got an email. Three of your investors pulled out."

I stared at the file. Still half-naked. Still half-dreaming.

"Wait. What?"

"You heard me." She walked toward the dresser, pulled out her hair tie and looped her hair up into a messy bun. "Three of the investors from the NavoTech proposal. The ones who signed just days ago. Gone. One after the other, like dominoes. This morning."

I grabbed the file, flipping it open with urgency that hadn’t even woken me yet. And then I stopped breathing.

"They actually signed off," I muttered, skimming the documents. "Pulled out, citing... market inconsistency and reputational damage? What the hell does that mean—"

"You're Dante. You tell me."

Her tone was flat, but her eyes burned.

She didn’t blink when I looked up.

"Alina... You’ve never cared about my investors."

She raised a brow. “You’ve never let me.”

That statement shut me up, for a second, the only sound in the room was paper rustling in my hand and her slow footsteps as she walked to the wardrobe, pulling it open like she was shopping for emotions she wasn’t allowed to show.

"You think I sit around waiting to be decorative?" she asked, tone low but sharp. "Just because I wear your ring doesn’t mean I’m blind to your empire burning at the edges."

"Burning?" I repeated, jaw ticking. "This is just a temporary glitch. We’ll bounce back. We always do."

"And what if we don’t?" she snapped, turning sharply. "Dante, do you know how many vultures are circling? I’ve heard whispers. The kind that doesn't come with polite warnings, and do you think, I would want my ex-husband to find out about this shenanigans"

"I can handle it."

"That’s what you said before the Bradwell leak, remember?"

My eyes narrowed. "That was different."

"Everything is different when it’s inconvenient for you."

There was a pause. Not out of fear, but out of exhaustion. A silence that didn’t ask for peace—it warned of war.

I shut the file and stood, letting it fall to the bed.

My muscles were already tense. My pulse was already pacing like I was halfway to the office.

"Your breakfast is ready."

I paused.

"What?"

She smirked, just a little. "Don’t look so shocked. I still do that sometimes, remember? Cook? Feed my husband? Even when he doesn’t tell me a damn thing."

"You made breakfast?"

"No, I summoned breakfast from the gods. Yes, I made breakfast."

I blinked at her. And for a second, it felt like I was looking at her through glass—sharp edges between us, reflections we hadn’t wanted to confront.

"Alina... thank you."

Her expression didn’t soften, but something flickered.

"Don’t thank me like I’m your assistant, Dante. I’m not here for gratitude."

I crossed the room, still bare-chested, steps slow like I was afraid I’d step on something sacred.

"You’re worried," I said. "Not just about the investors. About us."

She looked up at me. Eyes like oceans with a storm behind them.

"I married a man who built a kingdom out of fire," she said. "But I didn’t think I’d have to watch it burn while he pretended it was just smoke."

I reached for her hand, and for once, she didn’t pull back.

"You think I’m pretending?"

"I think you’re scared. And I think you don’t know how to let me in when you’re scared."

"Because I’ve always had to be the strong one."

"Then let me be strong with you."

I stared at her.

"You read the mail?" I asked quietly.

"Every line." She exhaled. "And then I checked their social media trails, their linked portfolios. They're all positioning themselves somewhere else. You were cut loose before the official withdrawal hit your inbox."

I ran a hand down my face.

Of course they were.

"Why didn’t you wake me earlier?"

"Because I wanted to see what you’d do when the kingdom started cracking."

"And what did you see?"

"A man still in denial," she said simply. Then, more gently, "But a man I still believe in."

I stepped closer, wrapped my arms around her waist, let her forehead press to my chest.

"You shouldn’t have to carry this," I said.

"And yet I am. Because I’m not going to let this family fall apart while you play God."

I kissed the top of her head.

"I’ll take my bath and head straight to the board," I muttered.

She stepped back. "You’ll eat first."

"Alina—"

"You will eat," she repeated, walking toward the door. "You won’t save an empire with an empty stomach and a spinning head. Eat, shower, go. Let them see a man who still holds the reins—not one chasing the flames."

"You think they’ll believe that?"

She turned, hand on the doorframe, eyes cold and brilliant.

"They’ll believe what you make them believe. And Dante..." she added, her tone almost teasing now. "Wear a dark suit. Black. Makes you look scarier."

I smirked. "You like scary?"

"I married you, didn’t I?"

Then she left, and I stood there, surrounded by sunlight, tension, and the smell of threat in warm air.