Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 26: Chapter 26

MARISOL
The wedding ended in a blur of music and champagne, but it was the silence afterward that hit hardest. One by one, the guests slipped away, offering final congratulations before disappearing back into their lives. As the mansion quieted, I found myself alone with Dante for the first time as his wife.
He turned to me, a small, mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “I have a surprise for you,” he said, his voice low and laced with intrigue.
Curiosity flared in my chest. I followed him, his hand warm and steady in mine. We moved through the mansion, past room after room dressed in modern finery, until he stopped in front of a set of double doors and pushed them open.
I had no idea where he was taking me. And for a second, I hated that, being led blindly, held in suspense, again. But his hand stayed anchored in mine, gentle. Not dragging. Not demanding. Just... there. Steady.
Every few steps, I glanced at him. Trying to read the slant of his smile, the intent behind his silence.
Why do I want this to matter so much?
My heels clicked softly against the polished floors. The weight of my dress tugged at my shoulders. I should’ve felt tired. I didn’t. I felt too awake.
He stopped in front of the doors. My pulse jumped. He didn’t speak. Just opened them.
I stepped inside and froze, my breath catching.
A grand black piano stood at the center of the room, bathed in soft light from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the glass, a waterfall cascaded down rugged cliffs, framed by lush green and the fading amber of sunset.
The space felt enchanted. Plush chairs invited me to linger. The dark floors grounded the room’s elegance. Every detail wrapped itself around the piano, and that stunning view, like the entire room, had been built to cradle this exact moment.
“This is for me?” My voice came out as a whisper. I crossed the room, my fingers brushing the keys. Cool ivory met my skin, smooth and familiar.
“Yes, Mrs. Kincade. This is yours.”
Mrs. Kincade. The words curled around me: foreign, thrilling, terrifying. Emotion surged fast and sharp in my chest. I turned to him, not sure how to say thank you. Not for something like this. My steps carried me across the room. I meant only to kiss his cheek. Something soft. Simple.
But as my lips brushed his skin, his hand slid to the back of my neck. He turned toward me, and then his mouth was on mine. Confident. Sure.
The kiss started gently. My body leaned into his, my pulse tripping faster. Then his other hand moved to my waist, pulling me closer. My palms met his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath the crisp fabric.
The kiss deepened. Each second drew me in further until I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began.
Then something inside him shifted. A growl, low and soft, vibrated against my mouth.
Wait. What’s happening?
He pushed me back, his grip tightening at my waist. I gasped. My backside hit the piano with a sharp, discordant clatter. My fingers clutched at his shoulders, stunned, breathless. Before I could say a word, his hand slid lower, gripping my ass with fierce, raw intent.
The tenderness dissolved, replaced by pure, consuming heat. He pressed me against the cool piano, and the contrast made me shiver.
His hands roamed again, over my waist, up to my breast through the delicate layers of my wedding dress. The lace and beading offered little barrier, and sensation bolted through me. My lungs forgot how to function.
God. I’m not ready for this. And yet, I wanted it. All of it.
Need tangled with uncertainty, wound tight inside me. Still, I leaned in, craving the closeness. The jarring piano keys blurred into the background as the moment swallowed us whole.
Then he pulled back. Abrupt. Harsh. His breath came in fast, ragged bursts.
“I think we’d better stop,” he rasped, his voice thick with restraint.
I blinked up at him, cheeks burning, my heart hammering against my ribs. I nodded, too overwhelmed for words.
We stood frozen, the air still charged with everything that had almost happened. Dante stepped back, his hands loosening, settling at my waist without urgency.
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady the racing inside me. My skin still buzzed from the kiss, from the weight of it all. I met his gaze and found the want still there. Quieter now.
He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, fingers barely grazing my skin. “We’ve got time,” he said, his voice quiet, his eyes searching mine.
I nodded again, tension unraveling from my shoulders. The silence between us softened, no longer electric. Just calm. I stepped away from the piano, its cool press fading from memory as I inhaled a long, centering breath.
His gaze tracked me. “Will you sing and play me a song?”
A smile tugged at my lips. Singing always brought me home to myself. I sat down, let my fingers rest on the keys, and played.
I chose one of my own.
Not because I thought I could explain myself, but because I didn’t know how else to be honest. Music had always been the only place I was allowed to tell the truth, and this one carried all the things I wasn’t ready to say out loud.
While I Learn
They built my world in silence
and called it safety.
But it was a cage.
Every smile I wore was practiced.
Every word, calculated.
I was taught how to disappear
without leaving the room.
You see strength, maybe.
But all I feel is the tremble
of someone learning how to live.
I don’t know what I want yet.
So please,
don’t rush this.
Don’t pull me faster
than I can follow.
Hold my hand,
but let me walk.
If I seem distant, I’m not leaving.
I’m searching.
And if I come back to you,
it’ll be because I meant to.
Not because someone told me to.
So go easy.
While I learn how to be me.
My voice filled the room, steady and raw. The music wrapped around me, around him. I didn’t think about how it sounded. I felt it. Every note lived in my chest before escaping into the air.
When I looked up, Dante was watching me. Not just listening. Seeing me. His expression unreadable, but he didn’t look away.
The last note drifted, then vanished. I let my hands fall from the keys. Silence returned, full of meaning. I didn’t speak at first. I couldn’t.
His gaze held mine like he didn’t need the song explained. Like he already knew every reason I chose it.
And I hated how vulnerable that made me feel. How badly I wanted him to hold all those pieces without flinching.
It scared me. How easy it was to let my guard slip when I was with him. Not completely. But enough.
I wanted him to like it. Not because it was perfect, but because it was mine. My voice. My heart. Unhidden.
“Did you write that?” he asked, finally.
I nodded, still caught in the last echo of the song. “Yeah.”
He looked at me for a long moment. “That was... beautiful. You’re incredibly talented.”
He meant it. No hesitation in his voice. Just quiet certainty, like he wanted me to know it, feel it, believe it.
Something in his eyes shifted. Softer, maybe. Or maybe it was me.
He didn’t say anything else. Just stood there, quiet, like he understood more than he was letting on. We stayed like that, surrounded by lingering music and the ghosts of a moment we hadn’t finished.
This was the beginning. A real one. But shadows still loomed. Ones I couldn’t see clearly yet.
It won’t be easy. But with him, I’ll try.