Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 47: Chapter 47

MARISOL
I ignored him, keeping my face blank as I took my seat.
The scent of garlic and roasted meat floated in as Maria carried in plates of food, but the aromas barely touched the knot in my stomach.
As we ate, Dante laid out the terms of the potential collaboration.
My lips pressed into a line.
I forced down the bile rising in my throat at the sound of my father’s voice.
Sitting across from the man who had betrayed me more times than I could count made my stomach churn, but I held my expression steady.
I wanted him to see my disgust.
Let him choke on it.
He didn’t.
That smug smile said he thought he’d won.
That I’d finally folded.
A daughter, in his mind, who had learned her place.
I picked up my wine glass, took a slow sip, then set it down harder than I meant to.
I’d tried.
I’d sat through this farce of a dinner, tolerated the weight of his presence, but the room felt too small, too filled with the past.
I couldn’t stomach another minute of pretending.
“I’ll leave you both to your business talk,” I said, standing slowly.
I met Roberto’s eyes.
Cold.
Final.
Unyielding.
“Goodbye, Roberto. Don’t ever come back.”
My voice came out steady.
Every word landed with the weight of a slammed door.
He blinked, the smirk slipping.
His mouth opened, but I was already turning, heels clicking with each step, head high, fueled by bitterness he’d never bothered to see.
I didn’t look back.
Behind me, his voice followed, low and brittle.
"You'll need to beat that disrespect out of her."
Dante chuckled, voice light.
“You’ll have to excuse her fire.”
Roberto pushed back his chair, the scrape sharp against the tile.
His tone curled with satisfaction.
“I’m glad she’s your problem now.”
Their voices faded as I moved down the hall, the heavy tension left behind with them.
Later, after dinner, I heard the front door open.
Dante’s voice, smooth and composed, filtered through the quiet.
“I apologize again for the inconvenience. I look forward to doing business.”
A pause.
Then Roberto’s sharper tone, more calculated than threatening.
“Just don’t let it happen again.”
The door shut with a hollow thud that echoed through the house.
Silence.
I didn’t see Dante’s face, but I recognized that sound.
The silence before everything collapses.
And this time, I wouldn’t be the one paying for his choices.
DANTE
I sat alone in my office, the desk lamp casting long shadows across the floor.
The mansion was silent, the kind of silence that pressed against my ears and made me feel hunted by my own thoughts.
Only the clock ticked, steady and loud.
Roberto had left hours ago.
The plan was intact, but Marisol’s confession wouldn’t let go.
I’ve fallen in love with you.
Her voice echoed in my memory, tugging at something I thought I’d buried long ago.
I could almost hear her in the stillness, soft but certain, reaching into places I had let no one near.
I closed my eyes, feeling that memory like a touch, warm and unsettling.
The clock read two in the morning.
Tonight marked the anniversary of my father’s death, a brutal reminder of what emotions could cost a man.
Tension built in my jaw.
Love had ruined my father, blinded him with trust, and left him destroyed by his own weakness.
I’d sworn never to let myself fall into that same trap.
Love killed him. I won’t let it do the same to me.
But Marisol’s confession had stirred something I wasn’t prepared for.
Beneath all the bitterness and the barriers I’d built, something small had flickered.
Hope.
A dangerous, reckless spark I couldn’t allow to grow.
I’d tried to keep my distance, waiting until she fell asleep before I went to bed, thinking space would hold my walls in place.
It hadn’t worked.
She’d chipped away at the edges of everything I’d locked down, her words shaking loose the foundations I thought were solid.
I had been kind.
Supportive, even.
I’d helped her bring down her father’s empire.
By tomorrow, Roberto would be in custody, his legacy in ruins, and my part in Marisol’s revenge would be done.
It should have felt like justice.
Instead, it felt like watching the final chapter close on something I wasn’t ready to let go of.
With Marcos already warned and under watch, the final blow was ready to land.
I should have felt something close to relief.
Instead, I exhaled sharply and leaned forward, my elbows on the desk, forehead pressed to my palms.
A draft slipped through the window, cold against my skin, tightening the chill running through me.
Her love is a threat.
Seductive. Maddening. And it had to be put out before it consumed everything.
I couldn’t let her believe I felt the same.
I stood fast, the chair scraping against the floor.
Pacing the room, I raked a hand through my hair.
The surrounding silence thickened, the ticking clock the only sound, counting time I no longer felt in control of.
Marisol was becoming a weakness. And weaknesses got people killed.
If I let this grow, it’ll only end one way. For both of us.
The knot in my chest pulled tighter, hardening into something immovable.
I would need to be ruthless.
Just like I had been with anyone who threatened what I built.
But as I paused near the bookshelf, breathing unevenly, I let myself imagine, for one sliver of a second, what it might be like to give in.
To let her love me.
To let someone see all of me.
I hated the image.
But I couldn’t shake it.
No. That’s not who I am. I can’t be that man.
I shoved the thought aside, locking it away.
If I let her in, I’d become vulnerable.
And vulnerable men ended up like my father.
Dead.
I straightened and looked back at the clock.
The house was too quiet, the ticking a metronome of isolation.
Marisol was likely asleep now, unaware of the war I was waging in the dark.
Clenching my fists, I forced myself to remember the truth.
Letting her love me wasn’t an option.
Love stripped men bare.
Left them wide open.
I’d seen what it did to my father.
Watched him crumble under the weight of it.
I couldn’t be next.
Or let it happen to her.
But her confession still echoed, slipping past every defense I’d built, filling the silent corners of my mind.
Talking to her tonight would only unravel me further.
Time and distance. That’s what I needed.
Space to seal the cracks before they widened beyond repair.
But avoiding her hadn’t worked.
I need to end this before she thinks there’s anything real between us. Before she finds a way in for good.
I took a deep breath, the decision anchoring in my chest like a stone.
I would do what had to be done.
Snuff out any hope she still saw in me, no matter how deeply it cut.
Yet as I stepped into the hallway, toward the room where Marisol slept, I could feel something slipping.
My grip on the distance I’d fought so hard to build.
I should have turned back.
But each step pulled me forward, dragged by the need to feel her near, to see her one last time before I crushed whatever fragile thing had taken root.
Mercy had no place in what had to come next.