Page 6 of The Beast's Broken Beauty

To say anything at all.

Because there's not a chance in hell I'll break this silence first

Chapter four

Antonio

It'slikeshe'sapoison that refuses to stop spilling through my veins, or maybe she's the curse I willingly put on myself.

All I know is that hearing her sharp intake of breath behind that heavy door does something to my insides that I should have under control by now.

I wait for her to say something, anything.

I don't expect her to beg me, but I expect her to yell at me, maybe tell me how awful I am, how I am worse than the Beast everyone used to describe. Maybe, to snarl that my scars are less about what's on the surface and more about the darkness of my soul. Anything, really, just to break this crushing silence.

But she doesn't utter a single word, and the silence is thick and oppressing. And why are my shoulders tightening, thinking about the worst-case scenarios—did she fall? Faint? Why am I so fucking worried about her? Worried about her well-being. Like I should even think about her after everything she's done.Everything she keeps on doing. Caring for her is a weakness I can't afford. A mirage of tenderness that was never mine.

And yet, as soon as I overheard Christo talking about the way she looked—as if he had any right to her at all as he was bringing her food, I lost my shit.

And this is how Signora Martha came into play.

She's the only one I trust with Bella.

And she's the only one I trust with Elena.

Bella because I want to protect myself from her. Elena because I want to protect her from me and my demons.

Elena. That's who matters right now.

The contract weighs on my mind like another scar I can't display – the one thing keeping my business relationships alive while they crumble at the edges. Franco's words echo: "They want to see her. Alive and well." The French making demands like they're the ones who shed blood for this alliance. Like they understand what it cost to claim the Moretti name through marriage.

I slam the door with my open hand, half-expecting Isabella to yelp in surprise, but nothing.

Still nothing.

"How did you get her here?" I finally growl and there's still no answer.

Instead, the sound of Isabella moving away from the door reaches me, her footsteps muffled but she's likely heading towards the bed. The ruffling of paper and the creaking of the mattress. Is she jotting down her thoughts? Sketching something? My gaze lands on several drawings scattered across the floor, all depicting princesses. I bend down to pick one up, curiosity getting the better of me.

"You can't talk to her," I continue and this time, my fingers brush the key that's in my pocket. Always with me. "You can't have her follow you here somehow. How do you even know hername?" I pause, because in my mind, I picture her father telling her secrets I wasn't even privy to until three months ago. Did he know about Elena? Is that why he made sure her mother got killed at that wedding from Hell? My hands clench into fists, wishing that monster was in front of me, instead of his stubborn daughter tucked away in a jail of my own making.

My voice must have alerted my dog because Cerberus trots my way, sniffing the door. Sniffing and whining.

"Cerberus, it's okay." Her voice is soft. And to the dog she speaks. Of course.

"I asked you a question." Silence again. And I hesitate only a second before turning the key into the lock. When the door opens, my heart stills for a moment before slamming against my ribcage.

She's sitting on the bed, looking lost despite the anger radiating from her. The single lightbulb on the ceiling leaves more shadows than light. And the smell? There's something moldy in the air mixing with the ocean salt and her honeysuckle scent.

And I have to clench my jaw not to say anything stupid.

It's the first time I see her since that morning when I shattered her heart, soul and very essence. Or so I thought.

Because in those eyes, there's strength, a distance. A barrier. It's like she's built a fortress I can't scale. Sure, I had the key to open the door, but I don't possess the one needed to unlock the barricades in her gaze, barricades I helped build with every harsh word and betrayal. Part of me hates myself for that. The other part? The other part decides it's time to remind her who's the boss here just as my traitor of a dog rushes to her, nuzzling against her and she pets him like he's her dog, whispering something about him being the best boy.

"Cerberus, come here," I bark and the dog gives me one of those "you wish" look that would have me chuckle if thatdidn't bring a ghost of a smile on her face. I stride toward her, straighten my spine, cross my arms over my chest, tower over her with my strength and resolve. "I asked you how you got my daughter to come see you..." She ignores me for a couple more seconds until I pick one of the letters Naomi has sent her. There's a hissing in her breathing, like she's a sneaky snake ready to strike. And I know. I know if she could, she'd unload everything on me.

"Don't," she warns. I half expect Cerberus to come back to me at her tone.

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