Chapter 41
ELODIE’S POV~
I didn’t plan on fighting for Liora’s custody. I’d already made my peace with that. She was Dante’s daughter as much as she was mine, and if he wanted to raise her under his pack’s roof, I wouldn’t stop him. Still… when she turned to me with those soft amber eyes that mirrored his and asked me to peel her shrimp, I couldn’t say no.
“Alright,” I said quietly, setting my chopsticks aside.
The table was filled with laughter and clinking glasses, but everything sounded distant to me like I was hearing it through a wall. I tried to focus on peeling the shrimp, to pretend I didn’t feel Dante’s presence sitting right beside me, cold and distant as ever. I could feel him without even looking, his scent, that sharp cedar and faint smoke I used to crave. Now it only made my chest ache.
The elderly lady, his grandmother, stopped talking mid-sentence. Her gaze dropped to my hands, and the warmth in her eyes faltered. “Elodie,” she said softly, her tone both confused and disapproving, “where’s your ring p>
The room went still. Even Amber stopped talking. I froze, my fingers tight around the shrimp, my mind blank for a moment before I forced a faint smile.
“I must’ve left it at home,” I murmured, trying to sound casual. “I was in a hurry, Nonna p>
My lie hung in the air. I didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, especially not Dante’s.
In truth, I’d taken the ring off the night I packed the divorce papers. It had felt like cutting off a piece of myself. That thin band had been the last thing tying me to a man who no longer looked at me the same. I’d slipped it into the envelope beside the divorce agreement, knowing it was over even if the world hadn’t caught up yet. In the past I always wore the ring like my life depended on it, everywhere I went. Even to sleep. Even Amber had once mocked me because of it but now? No more.
His grandmother didn’t press further, but her sigh was heavy enough to fill the silence. “Ah… I see,” she said, smiling faintly as if she believed me. But I saw the way her eyes softened, sad, disappointed, like she could already sense the truth.
No one else said anything. They just went back to eating, pretending everything was fine. But I could feel Dante’s gaze on me, sharp, and unreadable. It lasted only a second before he turned away, but it left me breathless all the same.
Dinner dragged on in forced politeness. Amber chatted with Stella about some gala at the Bellini Pack, laughing too loudly. Nonna kept shooting hopeful glances at Dante and me, like she still thought we could be saved, as if a miracle could rebuild what was already dead.
When the plates were cleared, we all moved to the living room. The air smelled faintly of coffee and cinnamon from the desserts laid out on the glass table. His grandmother insisted Dante and I sit together on the couch. I hesitated, but I didn’t have the strength to argue.
So I sat. Beside him. The space between us felt like a wall.
It was the first time in months we’d been this close. My pulse betrayed me, skipping just from being near him. His scent wrapped around me. Once, that smell used to make me melt. Now, it just reminded me of how far gone we were.
He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even look at me. He sat there, scrolling through his phone like I wasn’t even in the room. I tried to focus on my fruit pudding, small bites, and tried so hard to not care. I hardened my heart. But my throat was tight.
Nonna sat across from us at the long marble table, her silver hair perfectly pinned, her eyes gleaming with pride as she looked between Dante and me. “You two make such a perfect match,” she said softly, voice trembling with emotion, like she still believed in something that no longer existed.
Her words fell heavy. I managed a small smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach the eyes. Dante didn’t bother to fake one. He just leaned back in his chair, wine glass in hand, silent as ever. Nonna never noticed the tension. She saw what she wanted to see, a picture-perfect couple. Handsome, composed Alpha and his quiet Luna. The illusion she’d built around us was beautiful… until you looked closer.
Because beneath that illusion, there was nothing left.
We looked perfect, yes. But that was all we were, an image.
Amber caught my eye from across the table, her mouth curling into a half-smirk. She didn’t say anything, but I could read the judgment in her gaze, the same silent mockery she’d held for years. I swallowed the lump in my throat and focused on my glass of water, tracing the rim with my fingertip.
Nonna’s voice broke through again, soft and affectionate. “You’ll stay the night, yes? It’s been so long since we’ve had everyone here together p>
Dante nodded politely. “Of course, Nonna p>
And that was that. Decision made.
By eight, he had disappeared into the study with Nonna to discuss “business.” I didn’t bother asking what kind, it wasn’t my place anymore, even if I was still technically his mate. Instead, I helped Liora upstairs. She clung to my hand, small and warm, her little feet padding softly against the marble floor.
The mansion was quiet at night, too quiet. The kind of quiet that made your thoughts louder.
Once in the bathroom, I helped her into the tub, pouring in her favorite lavender bubble soap. She played with the foam, humming to herself while I sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching her. She had his eyes, Dante’s eyes and sometimes that alone was enough to break me.
“Mommy,” she said after a moment, looking up at me with water droplets clinging to her lashes, “are you… busy tomorrow morning p>
Her voice was so careful, like she was afraid of the answer.
I smiled faintly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “No, I’m not busy. Why do you ask, my love p>
Her lips fell, and she looked down at the water, poking at the bubbles. “Nothing p>
It was such a small word, but it stung. Children don’t say “nothing” unless something hurts.
I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. I was too tired. Too worn out to peel back one more layer of disappointment.
When she was done, I wrapped her in a soft towel and carried her to her room. The scent of lavender clung to her skin, warm and familiar. She sat on the edge of the bed while I gently brushed her hair, watching me through the mirror.