Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 53: Chapter 53

DANTE
The next few days in London blurred into a stream of meetings, but I couldn’t focus.
Client conversations ran together as I nodded along, my thoughts stuck on Marisol.
Does she hate me?
The question clung to me, relentless.
By the end of the first week, I was ready to go home.
I’d thought distance would clear my head, but it only deepened the ache of losing her.
I cut the trip short hoping I could see her before it was too late to make things right.
After my final meeting, I returned to my hotel suite, exhaustion dragging at every step.
The luxurious decor and sweeping view of London’s skyline felt cold, sterile.
Empty. Like me.
Regret seeped into every corner until the room felt even colder.
Without thinking, I pulled out my laptop and connected to the CCTV feed from the estate.
It was just to check on security, I told myself, even as my heart pounded for a different reason.
I need to see her. Just a glimpse.
The feed flickered to life, showing the familiar rooms and hallways.
I scanned each one, my eyes moving too fast.
She had to be there somewhere.
Please be there.
I started over, slower this time.
Maria moved through the kitchen.
Mr. Buttons was curled up on the couch.
But Marisol was nowhere.
Panic started to rise in my chest.
I switched cameras, scanned the gardens, half-expecting her to be out among the flowers.
Nothing. No one.
My breath caught.
She’s gone.
Each room I clicked through felt colder, the house itself emptying of her.
After several long minutes, I shut the laptop with a frustrated sigh and leaned back, jaw tight.
Regret pressed down like dead weight.
I rubbed my temples, slumped in the chair.
Coming to London had been a mistake.
I’d hoped space would help, but all it did was make things worse.
Work meant nothing.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Maria’s disappointment was soft but piercing.
Felix’s silent judgment cut even deeper.
He’d pulled me aside before I left, gripping my shoulder with that quiet gravity of his.
Don’t make this a mistake you can’t take back.
I’d brushed it off at the time, too wrapped in my fear to hear the truth in his words.
Lying to her had been a coward’s move.
And now I’m the one paying for it.
I’d been so afraid of what I felt, I hadn’t seen what I was doing to her.
I couldn’t stay here, not like this.
I needed to see her.
To face whatever came next.
To try, at least, to fix what I’d broken.
I reached for my phone and called my pilot, told him to prep the jet.
I’d be leaving tonight.
But as the call ended, doubt settled in.
What if she won’t hear me out? What if I broke this beyond repair?
I turned toward the city skyline, its lights flickering like distant stars.
My chest tightened around the weight of everything left unsaid.
The urgency to make things right warred with something colder.
The fear that I’d already lost her.
What if I’m already too late?
DANTE
I charged into the house, the cool draft meeting me like a slap, my pulse roaring in my ears.
I barely registered the biting air as I took the stairs two at a time to the front door, one desperate thought thundering through my mind: Marisol.
“Maria!” I bellowed, my voice echoing through the vast foyer as I stormed inside. “Maria!” I shouted again, louder this time, the sound bouncing off the walls and back at me.
Panic clawed its way up my chest.
From the distant hallway, I caught the faint steps of Maria approaching, her stride as measured as ever.
She appeared in the doorway, irritation etched into every line of her face.
“¡Ya basta! I heard you the first time. What is it?” she snapped, crossing her arms as she walked toward me.
My chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath, too frayed to soften the edge in my voice.
“Where’s Marisol?” The words spilled out, tight and frantic.
Her expression shifted from annoyance to disbelief, her eyes narrowing like she wasn’t sure I was serious.
“Where’s Marisol? You told her to leave, remember?”
My heart stuttered.
My face went cold as dread settled in, heavy and hard in my chest.
“She left already?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
A silence stretched.
Long enough to break me.
“Sí,” Maria said, clipped and matter-of-fact. “She left two days ago.”
My breath caught.
I’d wanted her gone.
Told myself it was right.
But now? The truth hit hard.
Brutal. Unforgiving.
“Where did she go?” I sounded desperate, the rawness in my voice surprising even me. “You have to know where she went, please.”
She shook her head.
“She didn’t say.”
“Don’t lie to me, Maria!” I shouted, frustration and fear boiling over.
My hands clenched into fists, trembling as I fought to hold the storm back.
She didn’t flinch.
“You think I’d lie about this? She left. And you’re the one who drove her away.” Her words sliced through me, sharper than I’d ever heard them.
Then her gaze softened, just a fraction, as she caught the devastation in my eyes.
“I’m not lying, Dante. I promise you, she didn’t tell me. She didn’t want to risk you finding out.”
Pity flickered in her expression.
I ran a hand through my hair, pacing, my stomach twisting with the weight of what I’d done.
I pushed her away.
I told myself it was for the best.
Now it’s the one thing I can’t live with.
She’s gone.
Maria watched me with that same blend of pity and exasperation.
She’d warned me.
Tried to stop this from happening.
“I told you, you’d regret it,” she said quietly, shaking her head.
My legs buckled, and I slumped against the wall, my thoughts a mess of everything I’d lost.
Marisol had been everything.
And I’d been too scared, too proud to see it until it was too late.
But then Maria spoke again, her voice softer now.
“She’s going to send her address once she’s settled. So I can send her things, including Mr. Buttons.”
My head snapped up.
Hope sparked, sudden and blinding.
“Her address?” I repeated, the hope in my chest too wild to contain.
Maria nodded.
“Sí, she promised. She didn’t want to leave Mr. Buttons behind forever, and she’ll need her things. So, all is not lost.”
Relief crashed over me like a wave, and I let out a long, shaky breath.
She was gone.
But maybe... not gone for good.
There was still a chance.
A thread to hold onto.
My heart pounded as the pressure in my chest lifted, just enough to breathe.
I looked at Maria, my voice steadier now, firm with something I hadn’t let myself feel until this moment.
“Thank you, Maria. I’m going to fix this.”
She studied me, then gave a small nod.
“You better. For her sake, and yours.”
I stood there, the weight of guilt and relief wrapped around me like chains.
My hands still trembled with the last of the adrenaline, but one thing had become painfully, sharply clear: I wasn’t going to waste this second chance.
I’d find her. Apologize. Fix what I broke.
She deserved at least that.
I ran a hand through my hair again, forcing my legs to move as I stepped into the music room.
The silence hit me like a wall, broken only by the soft click of Mr. Buttons' paws on the hardwood floor.
I closed the door behind me and leaned back, my gaze sweeping across the space.
My chest ached as memories flooded in.
Her laughter.
The sound of her fingers dancing over the keys, coaxing melodies that seemed to speak every word she never said aloud.
How many times did I sit back and take it for granted?
Music had always been her language.
In my office, I used to leave the music room’s audio feed on like it was my personal radio station.
Her melodies would drift into my space, weaving into the quiet while I worked.
I’d smile at the way she muttered under her breath, snapped at a missed note, softened into a hum when she got it right.
Felix had walked in on it once, catching me listening like a fool.
The teasing had been relentless.
I’d brushed it off with irritation, but the truth had already been carved deep.
She got under my skin.
Into my life.
Into everything.
Now, standing here, I felt like an intruder.
Her touch lingered in this room.
In the memory of her brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
The unguarded smile.
That quiet laugh she didn’t always mean to let out.
That smile haunted me.
I wrecked it. I wrecked her.
If she could just hear me out… I’d wait.
As long as it took.
The silence in the room pressed in, punishing and thick, every second stretching longer than the last.
Without her, it felt like a void I couldn’t crawl out of.
There was nothing I could do now but wait.
Please, God, let her reach out.
For the first time in my life, I knew I’d give anything for one more chance.
If she gave me one more chance, I’d spend a lifetime earning it.