Page 103 of Ruthless Desire

Natalie shifts, wincing slightly. "Dante, I—"

"Shh," I soothe, pressing a finger to her lips. "Rest now. We'll talk when you're stronger."

She nods, her eyes already drifting closed. I watch her for a long moment, my mind racing. This illness is a setback, yes, but also an opportunity. A chance to show her my softer side, to bind her to me even more tightly.

As Natalie sleeps, I begin to plan. I'll nurse her back to health myself, tend to her every need. And when she's well again... well, we'll just have to redouble our efforts to create the heir I so desperately crave.

A dark smile curves my lips as I settle into the chair beside the bed. Rest well, my love. You'll need your strength for what's to come.

Chapter 29 Natalie

The morning sun caresses my skin as I step into the villa's lush garden, a welcome reprieve from the shadows inside - both literal and figurative. Enzo is already there, kneeling amidst the beds of vibrant blooms, hands buried in dark soil. He looks up at my approach, a warm smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Buongiorno, Natalie! Care to join an old man and help tend these beauties?"

I hesitate, weighing the indulgence of a stolen moment of peace against the risk of rousing Dante's ire. But the sweet fragrance of the roses beckons, an intoxicating lure I'm powerless to resist.

"I'd like that," I murmur, returning his smile as I kneel beside him. The rich earth is cool and damp against my palms, grounding me in the present.

"Ah, you're a natural, bella!" Enzo praises as I carefully loosen the soil around a rosebush heavy with scarlet blooms. "There's something soul-soothing about coaxing life and beauty from the ground, no?"

"My father used to say gardening was an act of faith," I reply softly, the memory rising unbidden. "A belief that with love and care, even the most barren earth can bloom."

"Sounds like a wise man, your papà."

"He was." I swallow hard against the sudden ache in my throat. "He is. At least, I hope..."

Enzo watches me carefully, shrewd gaze missing nothing. "You worry for him."

It's not a question, but I nod anyway, blinking back the prickling heat in my eyes. "I haven't spoken to him since... since Dante."

Since my entire world was swallowed in shadows and sin.

Enzo makes a thoughtful noise, dusting the dirt from his hands. "Perhaps... perhaps it would ease your mind to reach out to him, hmm? Reassure yourself that he is well."

I bark a humorless laugh. "And risk bringing Dante's wrath down on us both? I can't... he's all I have left, Enzo."

"Ah, mia cara." Enzo rests a gentle hand on my shoulder. "A father's love is not so easily extinguished. And even the fiercest storm cannot rage forever."

He slips a small phone into my dirt-streaked palm, curling my fingers over it. "Call him, Natalie. Hear his voice. Remember the girl you were before the world taught you to fear its shadows."

My heart pounds a frantic staccato against my ribs as I stare down at the phone, innocuous and damning in equal measure. Dare I defy the devil himself for a chance to cling to the rapidly fraying threads of my humanity?

In the end, my desperation decides for me. With shaking hands, I dial the achingly familiar number, praying Dante is still occupied with whatever fresh hell he's unleashed on our enemies.

One ring. Two. Three.

"Pick up," I whisper, a broken plea. "Please, Daddy, pick up..."

Four. Five.

Voicemail.

The tinny recording of my father's warm baritone is a knife to the chest. I end the call before the beep, tears blurring the garden into Monet smears of color.

Enzo takes one look at my ravaged expression and pulls me into a fierce embrace, heedless of the dirt I smear on his crisp linen shirt.

"Oh, piccola, I am so sorry," he murmurs into my hair.

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