Chapter 4 - When Another Man Took Her Hand
Dante found the first suitcase at 6:12 the next morning.
It stood beside Leah's bedroom door.
Closed.
Packed.
For several seconds, he simply stared at it.
Then he knocked.
"Leah."
No answer.
He knocked again.
The door opened.
Leah stood there wearing jeans and a cream sweater, her hair tied back.
Behind her, half the room had already been emptied.
Dante's face changed.
"What are you doing?"
"Packing."
"I can see that."
"Then we're making excellent progress."
"This isn't funny."
"I'm not joking."
He stepped into the room.
Leah moved aside.
"Where are you going?"
"The city."
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
His expression hardened.
"What happened last night?"
She almost laughed.
"Nothing happened."
"Cole?"
"This isn't about Adrian."
"Then what is it about?"
"Me."
That silenced him.
Leah walked toward the dresser and picked up a stack of books.
"For the first time in years, this is about me."
"Explain."
"No."
His eyes narrowed.
"No?"
"I don't owe you an explanation every time I make a decision."
"You live here."
"I did."
Dante stared at her.
Did.
One syllable.
It frightened him more than it should have.
"This is your home."
"No, Dante."
Her voice softened.
"This is your home."
"You've lived here twelve years."
"And I'm grateful."
"Stop saying that."
"Why?"
"Because you sound like a guest."
Leah looked at him sadly.
"Maybe because some part of me always was."
Dante took a step closer.
"No one here thinks that."
"I know."
"Then stay."
The word came too quickly.
Too honestly.
Leah's heart stumbled.
"Why?"
Dante froze.
There it was.
The simplest question in the world.
Why?
Because I need you.
Because every room feels wrong when you're not inside it.
Because I watched another man take your hand and wanted to tear the truth out of my own chest.
Because I have loved you so long that I no longer know where protecting you ends and fear begins.
He said none of it.
Instead:
"Because you're family."
Leah closed her eyes.
When she opened them, something had ended.
"Thank you."
Dante frowned.
"For what?"
"For finally making this easy."
She lifted the suitcase.
He caught the handle.
"Leah."
"Let go."
"No."
"Dante."
Their hands remained inches apart on the leather grip.
She looked directly into his eyes.
"You cannot keep calling me family whenever you're afraid of what comes next."
His grip loosened.
Leah took the suitcase.
At the front entrance, Mrs. Bellini cried.
Carlo pretended not to.
Raphael remained silent.
Dante stood at the top of the steps.
Leah hugged Mrs. Bellini.
Then looked at him.
Neither moved.
"Goodbye, Dante."
His face remained controlled.
"Call when you arrive."
Leah almost smiled.
Of course.
Even now.
An instruction instead of an emotion.
"I'll be fine."
She left.
The townhouse Bianca had given her was small compared with the estate.
Two bedrooms.
Old hardwood floors.
A narrow kitchen.
A balcony overlooking a tree-lined street.
Leah loved it immediately.
For the first time, silence belonged to her.
No staff waiting for instructions.
No security meetings.
No footsteps she could identify from three hallways away.
No Dante.
The first night was terrible.
The second was worse.
By the third, she slept eight uninterrupted hours.
Adrian called but didn't pressure her.
They met for coffee.
Then dinner.
Then a Sunday walk through a park.
He made her laugh.
He didn't ask where she was every hour.
He didn't confuse care with authority.
And yet Leah refused to use him as medicine for another man.
So after their third meeting, she told him the truth.
"I'm not ready."
Adrian nodded.
"I know."
"You know?"
"I have eyes."
She laughed.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
He smiled.
"I'd rather be your friend honestly than your boyfriend accidentally."
Back at the estate, Dante was becoming impossible.
He fired a florist.
Rehired him.
Sent back three breakfast trays.
Forgot two meetings.
Asked Mrs. Bellini where Leah kept the donor records.
She stared at him.
"You lived in this house before Leah."
"I know."
"Could've fooled me."
One evening, Dante entered Leah's old room.
Everything important was gone.
On the desk remained one photograph.
Bianca.
Leah at eighteen.
Dante standing behind them.
He picked it up.
On the back, Bianca had written something.
Some people spend their lives protecting the door because they're terrified to walk through it.
Dante stared at the words.
Then Raphael appeared in the doorway.
"There's something you should know."
Dante didn't turn.
"What?"
"The camera malfunction at the side entrance wasn't a malfunction."
Silence.
Dante slowly faced him.
Raphael continued.
"Someone deliberately disconnected it."
"When?"
"Twice last week."
Dante's expression became cold.
The same week Leah had been coordinating security.
"Who?"
"We don't know yet."
Dante looked toward the empty bed.
For the first time since Leah left, heartbreak was replaced by something else.
Fear.
Because whoever had disabled that camera hadn't been trying to get into the estate.
Security logs showed they had been watching someone leave it.
May you like
Leah.
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