Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 46: Chapter 46

MARISOL
I walked quietly into the kitchen, my heart heavy.
The soft clatter of pans and the scent of garlic and onions filled the air.
Maria stood at the stove, humming a faint melody.
I hadn’t been here long, but the kitchen had quickly become a place where I could breathe.
It reminded me of mornings with my mother, full of warmth and laughter, where cooking was love and every sound from the stove brought a sense of home.
Maria’s presence carried that same feeling, a calm that reached the parts of me I didn’t know how to soothe.
Maria looked up as I stepped in, her eyes softening.
She didn’t need to ask what was wrong; it was written in the way I moved, the way I held myself like something might fall apart if I let go.
“Ay, mija,” she said gently, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Come, keep me company while I finish this.”
She gestured to the chair by the counter.
I sat at the island and traced the cool granite with my fingers.
The silence stretched, broken only by the soft sizzle of food on the stove.
Maria didn’t push. She knew I would speak when I could.
After a few moments, she sat down beside me, her voice quiet.
“What’s troubling you, mija?”
I swallowed hard, my throat tightening.
“I told Dante I loved him.” My voice broke on the words. “And he didn’t say it back. He just stood there, looking past me like he didn’t hear it. Then he told me to go to bed.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling before I could stop them.
“It’s obvious he doesn’t love me back.”
I tried to breathe, but the ache in my chest only grew.
“He’s done so much for me. I thought we were building something real.”
Maria moved without a word, wrapping her arms around me and holding me tight.
She didn’t say anything at first, just rested her cheek against the top of my head and let me cry.
“You’re not wrong for loving him, mi vida,” she whispered. “And you’re not wrong for hurting. But his heart... that’s his to open, not yours to carry.”
I clung to her, sobbing.
The comfort of her arms made the weight just a little lighter, even if it didn’t go away.
“He’s been pulling away ever since we got back from our honeymoon,” I said, my voice shaky. “And now it’s worse. He avoids me, and when he is there, it’s like he’s somewhere else entirely. It’s as if he’s already gone, like we’re falling apart before we’ve even had a chance to begin.”
Maria drew back just enough to look at me, her hands still gently resting on my shoulders.
“Sometimes people carry pain so deep they don’t know how to let anyone in. And sometimes, they don’t love the way we hope they will. That doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it.”
I wiped my face, still trembling.
“I don’t know how to let go. I keep hoping he’ll change, that he’ll come around. But I don’t think he will.”
Maria pressed her forehead to mine.
“Love is brave, mi corazón. You were brave to open your heart. And you’re strong enough to stand in this, no matter where it leads.”
She kissed my forehead, then stood and returned to the stove.
“Now let’s get you something to eat. You can’t mend a broken heart on an empty stomach.”
MARISOL
Later that evening, I stood in the garden as twilight cast soft shadows over the blooming flowers.
Jasmine clung to the still air, heavy against my skin.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady the nerves fluttering beneath the surface.
I drew in a deep breath, hoping to shake off the creeping sense of dread lodged in my chest.
The warmth of the evening did little to loosen the cold knot twisting tighter in my stomach.
Footsteps crunched along the gravel path, pulling me out of my haze.
I turned.
Dante and Felix approached, both serious, though something in Dante’s eyes softened the moment they met mine.
“Marisol,” he said, voice low, steady, and too gentle for what was coming. “It’s time. Felix is going to bring Roberto for dinner. Are you ready?”
I took another breath, deeper this time, and let it anchor me.
My heart felt heavier than it had a right to.
“Yes,” I said, keeping my voice firm, even with the storm churning inside. “Let’s get this over with.”
He nodded and stepped closer.
“We’ll make him believe this is just a minor punishment. He has to think I won’t harm him because he’s my father-in-law. I’ll also propose a collaboration.”
My spine straightened as irritation pricked along my skin.
“I’ll play along,” I said, sharper than I intended. “But don’t expect me to like it. He knows exactly how I feel about him. Anything else would raise suspicion.”
Dante offered a small, reassuring smile.
“Yes. Just remember, this is all part of the plan.”
I nodded.
Letting the anger settle, I focused instead on resolve.
“I understand.”
His jaw tightened, then eased.
Something unspoken flickered in the tension of his face.
His hand tightened around mine.
“We’ll get through this. Stay strong.”
The warmth of his touch stirred something I hadn’t expected.
For weeks, I’d reached for him in bed and found only cold sheets and silence.
I’d held on anyway, held on after I told him I loved him and he said nothing at all.
That silence had carved out a hollow space in my chest.
His gaze lingered a second too long, the usual shield slipping, just barely.
Was that regret? Doubt?
I couldn’t tell, and maybe I didn’t want to.
A part of me reached for it, starved for connection.
Is he really reaching out, or is this just another part of the game?
Heat bloomed beneath my collarbone, tight and restless, like my body couldn’t decide between wanting and warning.
Don’t fall for this. Don’t be a fool.
Still, I squeezed his hand back.
The pad of his thumb brushed the inside of my wrist, a touch that said more than his words ever did.
The craving to hold on, even just for a second longer, was stronger than my fear.
He didn’t let go right away.
His eyes flicked with something softer, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, buried beneath the calm, collected mask he wore so well.
As Felix turned to leave and fetch Roberto, silence settled between Dante and me.
The garden, once serene, felt taut with tension, unspoken but understood.
DANTE
Sharp footsteps echoed in the foyer, each strike against the hardwood growing louder.
I didn’t move from my spot in the dining room, one hand curled around a glass of untouched liquor.
I didn’t have to look.
I already knew the rhythm: Felix, steady as always.
Roberto, all impatience and barely leashed rage.
Felix’s voice carried in first, low and measured.
Then Roberto’s cut through like a whip.
“What the hell is going on? I demand to know why I've been treated like a prisoner.”
I looked up as he stormed in.
His face was flushed, his suit wrinkled and clinging like he’d been pacing hard.
His eyes locked on mine, burning with accusation.
I smiled, smooth and unfazed.
“Roberto. Let’s call a truce. We’re family, after all.”
He hesitated.
Eyes sharp, untrusting.
But after a beat, he took my hand.
“Family?” he said, venom curling through the word. “Is that what you call locking me up?”
I kept it light.
“I had to keep Marisol happy. You know how it is—happy wife, happy life.” I gestured toward the table.
He needs to believe I’ve got her under control.
That we’re not aligned.
Let him hold on to that illusion.
“Let’s have a drink,” I said. “Talk business.”
He eyed the bottle, then gave a short nod.
I poured two glasses and handed him one.
“To family,” I said.
He took a sip.
Some of that tension in his shoulders eased as the liquor did its work.
“Alright, Dante,” he muttered. “Let’s hear it.”
I leaned forward, keeping my voice low.
“I apologize for the inconvenience. But I needed to keep control where Marisol was concerned. She’s headstrong. I need her to believe she has a say… for now.”
Feed him what he wants.
He’ll never suspect we’re playing the same game.
Roberto smirked, that familiar gleam lighting his eyes as he leaned back, like he already owned the room.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, son.” He looked me over with that calculating stare, then flicked his gaze toward the empty seat Marisol would fill in just a bit. “She may think she’s in control, but we both know better.”
My grin widened.
“A game I’m willing to play if it keeps the peace. It’s mutually beneficial.”
Smile.
Keep it easy.
Let him think we’re on the same side.
His eyes glinted.
“What would that entail?”
Before I could answer, Marisol walked in.
Beautiful as ever.
That stony stare?
No mistaking the disdain.
Roberto’s gaze slid to her, sharp and assessing.
“Ah, my defiant daughter,” he said, all sarcasm. “Nice of you to join us.”