Elara's POV.
I stood outside Dante's study. I had spent an hour in front of the mirror practicing my expression.
I knocked softly.
"Enter," Dante's voice came through the door.
I pushed the door open. He was sitting behind his desk, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He didn't look up immediately. When he finally did, his expression shifted from cold indifference to a flicker of surprise.
"Elara," he said. "You should be resting."
"I couldn't sleep," I whispered. I kept my hands clasped in front of me, making sure he could see them shaking. "I needed to talk to you."
Dante set his glass down. "About what?"
"About everything," I said. I took a few steps into the room, keeping my head bowed. "I haven't apologized. Not properly."
Dante stood up. He walked around the desk until he was standing a few feet from me. "Apologized for what?"
"For failing you," I said. I forced a sob to catch in my throat. "The contract. The child. You paid for a son, and I wasn't strong enough to protect him. I lost the only thing that mattered to this family."
Dante was silent for a long moment. "The Petrovs took the child, Elara. Not you."
"But I was the vessel," I said. I looked up at him, letting a single tear fall. "I was supposed to be healthy and safe. Instead, I let them take me. I let them give me those pills. I destroyed your future, Dante. I know why you left the hospital. I know why you couldn't look at me."
Dante stepped closer. He reached out as if to touch my face, then pulled back. "I left because I was going to kill everyone in that city if I stayed."
"I thought it was because you hated me," I said. "I thought you were going to send me away. I saw Isabella, I heard her. She said I was a mistake."
Dante's jaw tightened. "Isabella speaks too much."
"Is she right?" I asked. "Am I a liability now? Because if I am, I'll go. I'll sign whatever papers you want. I'll waive the ten million. I just... I can't bear the thought of you looking at me with disappointment."
"I don't want you to go," Dante said. His voice was lower now.
"Then let me try again," I whispered. I moved into his space, placing my hands on his chest. I could feel his heart beating steadily. "I know the contract said one year. I know I failed the first time. But I want to make it right. I want to give you the heir you need. Not for the money. For you."
Dante looked down at me. The suspicion was there in his grey eyes, but beneath it was a raw, aching need. He had lost his son, and he was grieving. Grieving men are easy to manipulate.
"You're still recovering, Elara," he said.
"I'm a doctor, remember?" I gave him a small, sad smile. "I know my body. I'll be ready soon. Just don't shut me out. Don't go back to her."
"I am not with her," Dante said.
"She was in your room, Dante," I said, my voice cracking perfectly. "She was touching you. It felt like I was being replaced before I was even out of the hospital bed."
Dante sighed, a heavy sound of frustration. "It was a moment of weakness."
"Prove it," I whispered. I leaned my head against his shoulder. "Let me stay with you tonight. I don't want to be alone in that big room anymore. I keep seeing the warehouse when the lights go out."
Dante hesitated. I felt his muscles tense. Then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around me.
"Fine," he said. "You can stay."
We walked toward the east wing. I felt a pair of eyes on my back as we moved down the hallway. I didn't turn around. I knew Isabella was watching and I bet she was fuming.
We entered Dante's suite.
"I'll get a shirt for you to sleep in," Dante said.
"Thank you," I replied.
I sat on the edge of the bed. It was massive, draped in dark silk.
A few minutes later, Dante returned and handed me a black t-shirt. I went into the bathroom, changed, and splashed cold water on my face.
Everything was working, he believed me.
When I came back out, Dante was sitting on the sofa by the window, staring at the grounds.
"You're not coming to bed?" I asked.
"In a minute," he said.
I climbed into the bed and waited. After a while, he settled in beside me.
"Dante?" I whispered.
"Yes?"
"Do you really think we can have another one? A son?"
"We have to," he said.
"I'll be better this time," I promised. "I'll be stronger. I won't let anyone touch me."
Dante turned onto his side, facing me. He reached out and traced the line of my jaw with his thumb. "I believe you."
I closed my eyes. Inside, I was cold. Every second I spent in this bed was a second I spent gaining his trust back and every ounce of trust he gave me was a weapon I would use to destroy him.
Soon after, I felt Dante's breathing go deep and rhythmic. He was fast asleep.
I carefully slid out of bed. I didn't turn on the lights. I moved to the desk where he had left his phone and his watch. I didn't take them, that would be too obvious.
Instead, I looked for his keys. They were sitting on the nightstand on his side.
I picked up the heavy key ring. I found the small, silver key that Lorenzo told me unlocked the private filing cabinet in the basement, the one where the physical logs of the shipping manifests were kept.
I slipped the key into the pocket of my t-shirt.
I would have a copy made by tomorrow afternoon. Lorenzo had a contact who could do it in an hour.
I climbed back into bed, inching close to Dante until my back was against his chest. He turned in his sleep, his arm draping over my waist, pulling me tight against him.
"Elara," he muttered into my hair, still half-asleep.
"I'm here, Dante," I whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
It was the biggest lie I had ever told.
As I lay there in the arms of the man who had planned to discard me like trash, I felt a strange sense of calm. The fear was gone, the guilt was gone. There was only a goal, one I wouldn't stop until I'd achieved.