Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife #1) - Sienna Blake Page 0,65

two. It illuminates our past, our history, the very intertwining weave of our two lives. There’s no joy that Dante and I both don’t share. No pain that we don’t live through together. A realisation strikes me with such force I double over, sucking in air.

Dante and I are two parts of the one soul.

He is my soul.

How can a full belly be satisfying if my soul is left hungry? How can I truly be warm if my heart is left cold? What sapphires could please me more than Dante’s eyes? What symphony as rich as his laughter? What finest silk could compare to being wrapped up in his arms? All the world could crumble and wither into ash, but if he were still alive, I’d still be happy.

Suddenly the rain and mist inside me clears. Everything is clear and fresh, like the first day of spring.

I look up from my hands, twisted together in my lap. Natassia is frowning at me, asking if I’m okay.

“Oh, Natassia,” I breathe, “I’ve been such a fool.” My blood rushes with purpose, my veins swollen with clarity. “I need to find Dante.” I fling myself from my seat and begin to run, my soul feeling like it has remembered its wings, now taking flight.

I stagger back from the desk, the papers slipping from my hands, scattering like scared doves. The realisation of what I’ve done feels like death’s blow.

I have been the fool.

I had all these chances to listen to her—truly listen to her—but my ears rang with insult. I had all these chances to see the truth, but I kept myself blind with revenge, clinging onto my bloated pride. I had all these days to grab onto her, to reach for our future, but my hands were too filled with hate.

It’s not furniture and stuff that fills a home, but laughter and voices and love.

All those things had been in my grasp. I let them slip through my fingers. I let her slip through my fingers.

I’ve lost her.

I’ve lost her forever.

I have only myself to blame.

63

____________

Dimitri

I pull all the pages together and read the rest of the manuscript. It’s good writing. Raw and wild and passionate. It’s Alena all over. My heart squeezes with every page, my eyes sting with pride. I always knew she had it in her. Always.

“You can do anything, Alena.”

I read all the way to the last page in one sitting. After I finish I sink back into the chair that she once sat on.

In Alena’s story, “Ana” falls pregnant and has a boy that she names Dante Junior. She gets her money. The next time her husband is away on business, she takes her baby and “Emma” with her to the USA. She finds Dante, begs his forgiveness. And…

Ana gasps as she gazes up at me. “You…you forgive me?”

“Of course.” I brush my lips across hers. “After all, that’s what love is.”

This was what Alena dreamed of. This was what she wanted. Me, as part of her family.

What I wouldn’t give to have this fairy-tale ending. I would give my entire fortune. Everything I own.

Life is not like fairy tales.

I am not the prince who gets his princess. I am just a short-sighted fool.

There is a knock on my door. “You called for me?” Javier’s familiar voice fills Alena’s old office, where I now spend my days.

It still smells faintly of her. I run my thumb over the ink smudge on the wood. It’s the size and shape of Alena’s thumb. My thumb now rests where hers once did.

Javier stands in front of her desk. “Dimi?”

She used to call me Dimi. I look up. “How is she?”

He blinks. “Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you’ve been keeping tabs on…” I work my throat around the knot. “Alena.” Her name sends another stab of hurt through me.

Javier nods. “You know me too well.”

“So?”

“She’s doing okay. She has a job now, administration work at the school. It doesn’t pay much, but they’re getting by.”

I nod. “She’s a survivor.” She can survive anything.

Even…me.

Alena doesn’t want me anymore. I could not give her a family. I would be damned if I wasn’t going to give her the only other fairy tale she’s ever dreamed of.

“Javier, I need you to do something else for me.”

“Yes, sir?”

I nod to the pile of papers on the desk. “Find a publisher for this manuscript.”

Javier frowns. “You wrote a book?” He steps up to the desk. His eyes widen when he sees Alena’s name on