Chapter 2 - The One Word That Kept Breaking Her Heart
The ballroom looked as though someone had trapped a thousand stars beneath a glass ceiling.
Crystal chandeliers scattered warm light across polished marble. White roses rose from enormous arrangements between tables. A string quartet played near the staircase while donors, attorneys, executives, politicians, and people Leah suspected preferred not to explain their professions moved through the room.
Leah had spent weeks helping coordinate it.
Yet entering as a guest felt strangely different.
Elena found her within three minutes.
"You came."
"You threatened me."
"I encouraged you."
"You arranged a date."
"I arranged proximity."
"That's worse."
Elena grinned.
Then her eyes moved over Leah's shoulder.
"Speaking of proximity."
Leah turned.
The man approaching them was handsome without seeming aware of it.
Brown hair.
Black suit.
Easy smile.
Nothing intimidating about him.
No entourage.
No men watching exits behind him.
No room becoming quieter because he'd entered.
"Leah Vale?" he asked.
"Unfortunately."
He smiled.
"Adrian Cole."
Elena looked delighted.
"I suddenly need to speak to someone on the other side of the building."
"Elena."
But she was already gone.
Adrian laughed.
"Should I apologize?"
"Depends. Did you know this was a setup?"
"She told me I was meeting the smartest woman in the room."
Leah raised an eyebrow.
"Then she's setting both of us up for disappointment."
Across the ballroom, Dante saw her laugh.
He was speaking with Raphael and two businessmen when his attention drifted toward the sound.
Leah.
With a stranger.
Raphael followed his gaze.
"Who's that?"
"I don't know."
"You look like you want to."
Dante returned his attention to the conversation.
"I don't care."
Raphael smiled.
That was his first mistake.
"Of course."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"Something amusing?"
"No."
Raphael took a drink.
"Absolutely nothing."
For the next hour, Dante became increasingly aware of things he supposedly did not care about.
Adrian brought Leah champagne.
Adrian made her laugh.
Adrian touched the small of her back while moving through a crowded doorway.
And Leah let him.
That bothered Dante most.
Not because Adrian was inappropriate.
He wasn't.
Because Leah looked comfortable.
She looked like a woman who had temporarily forgotten to make herself useful.
No clipboard.
No schedule.
No one demanding anything from her.
Dante had seen Leah happy before.
But too often, he realized, her happiness at home had been attached to accomplishing something for someone else.
With Adrian, she was simply standing there.
Existing.
Enjoying herself.
Dante hated how much that realization hurt.
Later, Leah stepped onto a balcony for air.
She had been alone for less than thirty seconds when Dante appeared.
She didn't turn.
"You've been following me?"
"No."
"Convenient."
"I needed air."
"So did I."
Silence settled between them.
Below, headlights moved along the wet street.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Dante said.
Leah glanced at him.
"Was I not supposed to?"
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
His jaw tightened.
"Who's Cole?"
There it was.
Leah almost smiled.
"Why?"
"Because I asked."
"That's not an answer."
"Neither was yours."
She turned toward him fully.
"He's Elena's friend."
"What does he do?"
"Why?"
"Leah."
"No."
His eyebrows drew together.
"No?"
"You don't get to interrogate me because I talked to a man."
"I'm not interrogating you."
"Really? Because you're missing only the desk lamp."
"You're exaggerating."
"And you're jealous."
Silence.
The word seemed to hit something.
Dante's face became unreadable.
Leah waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Say it.
Please.
Instead Dante said quietly, "Don't make this into something it isn't."
Her hope died so quickly she almost admired its efficiency.
"What isn't it?"
"You and me."
Leah swallowed.
Dante continued.
"You're family."
There it was.
Again.
The word that had followed her from seventeen to twenty-five.
Family.
Safe.
Impossible.
She looked away before he could see what it did to her.
"Right."
"Leah—"
"No. You're right."
Her voice was remarkably steady.
"We should probably stop confusing things."
Something changed in Dante's expression.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you don't need to worry about Adrian."
"I wasn't worried."
"Exactly."
She smiled.
And somehow that smile frightened him more than anger would have.
"Enjoy the gala, Dante."
She walked inside.
Adrian was waiting near the ballroom entrance.
"You okay?"
Leah looked at him.
For years she had waited for Dante.
Waited for a glance to become a confession.
For concern to become courage.
For almost to become enough.
Maybe Mrs. Bellini had been right.
Maybe the cage had never been locked.
Maybe Leah simply hadn't tried the door.
She offered Adrian her hand.
"Would you like to dance?"
Across the room, Dante watched him take it.
And for the first time in years, Dante forgot what someone was saying directly to his face.
Because Leah was dancing with another man.
And she wasn't looking back.
But upstairs, in a private office temporarily reserved for the foundation's legal team, Elena had just opened an old envelope addressed in Bianca Raviieri's handwriting.
On the front were five words:
May you like
For Leah, when she finally leaves.
---
