After Six Years Together, He Called Me His Bedmate

When my mother called and told me to meet Dante Moretti's prospective bride that evening, Dante was asleep beside me, one arm locked firmly around my waist. Thinking our parents must have gotten something wrong, I gently woke him. "They said Ms. Costa is back, and she's being set up with you." Without opening his eyes, he gave a sleepy hum and pulled me closer. "Perfect. Pick out a suit for me this afternoon. Elena likes black, so don't choose a tie that's too flashy." My whole body went rigid. "Then what are we?" Dante opened his eyes as though I had asked something ridiculous. "Sofia, we eat together, drink together, and share a bed. That's all." He pinched my cheek, his tone careless. "You didn't actually think I was going to marry you, did you?" ****** Six years after Dante Moretti and I began living together in secret, I finally learned the truth. I had never been his girlfriend. We lived in a penthouse overlooking Central Park. Every corner of that place carried traces of the life we had built together. I had always thought of it as our home. But to Dante, it was nothing more than a convenient place for us to eat, drink, and sleep together. The Rizzo and Moretti families had always been equals in power and influence. Our fathers were close allies, and our mothers had been best friends for decades. We grew up on neighboring estates, went to school together, got into trouble together, and survived our families' darkest years side by side. After my 18th birthday, Dante and I crossed a line we'd never crossed before. The next morning, he told me he'd had too much to drink and warned me not to misunderstand what happened. But then there was a second time. And a third. He held me in the middle of the night and told me he missed me. He kissed me when the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve. Before every long trip, he left me the keys to the penthouse and access to his private safe. We did everything a couple would do. I thought the only reason he refused to make our relationship public was because of the complicated ties between our families. I was wrong. He kept me hidden because he had never loved me. "You come back to me every night. We live together. How is that not a relationship?" I couldn't accept it. I couldn't let go of the years I'd spent believing we were something real. Dante sat up and calmly buttoned his shirt. "Living with you is convenient. I don't have to worry about meals, I don't have to pretend when I'm drunk, and we work well together in bed." He paused, then looked at me. "But marriage is different. I know you too well, and you know me too well. If we spent our entire lives together, we'd already know exactly what the next day would look like. Wouldn't that be boring?" He said it like he was discussing something completely ordinary. My eyes fell to his wrist. A faded red cord was tied there. I had braided it for him when we were 16. He had worn it for years without ever taking it off, and I had once believed that was his way of holding on to me. Now I realized he probably hadn't even thought about it anymore. It was simply something he'd gotten used to. After putting on his jacket, Dante leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead before leaving. "Come back early tonight. Elena just returned to Northmara, and she'll feel uncomfortable around so many elders. Keep her company." That evening, I returned to the Rizzo estate. My parents were discussing their plans to move back to Asteridge. For the past six months, they had tried countless times to convince me to go with them. I had refused every time. When my mother saw me, she brought it up again carefully. "The family business in Asteridge needs someone to take charge, and your father wants to retire there. Are you really sure you don't want to come with us?" This time, I nodded. "I'm coming with you." My father looked surprised. "Have you really thought this through? Once we sell our remaining business here, we won't be coming back for a long time." I looked out at the dark city beyond the window. Then I answered quietly, "I've made up my mind."