Of course he was irritated. I had always revolved around him, always responded, always complied. I had never pushed back, never ignored him. Now that I wasn't reacting the way he expected, it unsettled him.
"I heard you," I replied, my tone flat, almost absent.
Dante paused, clearly thrown off.
Through the mirror, I could see him watching me closely, his brows drawing together. He was still wearing his coat, the signet ring on his right hand catching the bathroom light. His thumb moved once over it, a slow rotation, then stopped.
"What's wrong with you?"
His gaze dropped, landing on my collarbone where the edge of a bandage peeked out from beneath my clothes.
"What happened to your neck?"
He stepped closer, reaching out instinctively as if to check it himself.
But I turned away before his fingers could touch me.
His hand stopped midair, suspended awkwardly. For a split second, something flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe. Or annoyance.
For once, I didn't let him touch me.
The shift was subtle, but it was enough.
His expression hardened. Impatience replaced whatever hesitation had been there, and he dropped his hand, turning as if to leave.
"Adriana," he said coldly, "I've given you everything I promised. You have no reason to act out like this."
But I hadn't done anything at all.
As he took a step toward the door, I looked at his back, at the man I had once believed was my entire world.
"If you think I'm standing in your way," I said quietly, "with her or anyone else… maybe…"
My voice didn't shake.
"…we should dissolve this."
Dante stopped as if he had hit a wall.
Slowly, he turned around, staring at me like he hadn't heard correctly. "What did you just say?"
There was a brief silence.
Then he laughed, a dry, humorless sound that carried no warmth.
"So that's what this is?" he said, his tone turning sharp. "First you cling to me like your life depends on it, and now you're trying emotional blackmail?"
His eyes hardened as he looked at me.
"Adriana, do you really think a manipulative woman like you is someone I could ever love?"
The words landed without impact.
"You've been in this house since you were ten," he continued, his voice growing colder. "The Family took you in. If we dissolve this, where the hell would you even go?"
Each sentence was sharper than the last, deliberately cutting, deliberately cruel.