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“Mom, where is Anya? Have you seen her?” Dante’s voice was urgent, his eyes searching the room.
Janet, unbothered, shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, Anya? That girl your grandpa took in?”
“Yes,” Dante replied immediately, locking eyes with her.
She dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "Yeah, she moved out a while ago. Said she didn’t want to stay here anymore, now that you’re getting married."
Dante’s tension spiked uncontrollably. “That stupid woman!” he muttered through gritted teeth, his anger and frustration boiling over. His gaze intensified, pinning Janet with a searing look. “Mom, are you sure she left on her own? She doesn’t have anywhere else to stay. She got thrown out of her parents' house, and now she doesn’t have much money. Are you sure she left by herself?”
"Of course she did," Janet snapped, her voice dripping with annoyance. "Why would I lie? You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me. She really left on her own.”
Dante’s eyes darted around the hall, and his gaze landed on a maid standing behind a pillar, visibly anxious. “Were you the one who called me? Where is Anya? Did she leave on her own, or did someone take her?”
Janet glared at the maid, her anger rising. The maid immediately gulped, fear flashing across her face. Her career—her very life—was in Janet’s hands. One wrong word, and she could be finished.
The maid’s heart pounded in her chest as she locked eyes with Dante. The pressure of the moment was unbearable. Her voice barely came out as she answered. “Yes, Mr. Kingsley,” the maid stammered. “She left on her own. I helped her take the suitcase out. She was determined to leave immediately.”
The maid’s words made Dante’s body stiffen even more. Janet’s grip on the pearls around her neck tightened.
“I’m so hurt,” Janet said dramatically. "I’m your mother. How can you not believe me? I’m telling you the truth!"
Dante’s eyes locked onto hers with a piercing intensity, his voice a controlled whisper of rage. "I want you to cancel that marriage. Whatever deal you made with the Carters—cancel it now."
Janet’s face twisted with fury. "No," she spat, her voice rising. "Why would I do that? Are you out of your mind?"
“Mom,” Dante’s voice was low and controlled. “That marriage was something you adults decided on when I was just a kid. It was probably even a joke."
Janet snapped at once. "This wasn’t a joke, Dante! If it weren’t for Annie getting lost at that park, you two would be married by now. But now that she’s back, it’s your chance to make things right. You should marry her—it would be good for both of you. You two should’ve gotten married a long time ago."
Dante’s expression hardened, his frustration boiling over. "For God’s sake, I don’t even know who she is!”
"So, what? You can meet her now. What if you see her and fall in love with her at first sight?" Janet challenged, her eyes narrowed with urgency.
He gave her a blank stare, his annoyance growing. "Mom, drop this topic. I’m not marrying her."
Janet’s face fell, and a look of disappointment clouded her features. "Dante, your father died when you were just a boy. He told you to listen to me obediently, didn’t he? Have you forgotten everything he taught you? You’re ignoring me like this?"
Dante’s jaw tightened further, his fists clenched with controlled rage. Dante took a deep breath, his entire body tense with anger.
He turned on his heel, storming out of the house without saying another word.
***
Anya stood outside a grand mansion, her heart racing in her chest. She felt small and intimidated by the size of the building.
The bodyguards standing in a line were watching her closely. Even the slightest movement would alert them, making her feel like a prisoner on display. She could barely breathe, her chest tightening with every passing second.
Just moments earlier, after being thrown out by the guards at Kingsley House, a car suddenly flashed past her, then circled back. It stopped abruptly in front of her, and before she knew it, she was ushered into the vehicle by some scary men.
She hadn’t wanted to go, but with so many intimidating figures around her, she had no choice but to follow silently, her fear rising with every passing second.
They hadn’t hurt her, though. The men had just told her to wait as their boss was on his way. And now, as she stood there, her eyes darted nervously around the grounds, only to see a sleek black car speeding down the street, coming to an abrupt stop in front of her.
A young man stepped out first—tall and sharp-looking, with neatly styled dark hair and a cold expression that didn’t quite match his age. He wore a fitted black suit, no tie, just a plain white shirt open at the collar. His movements were quick, calculated, like someone used to being obeyed.
Then came the older figure. He was shorter and heavier, with thinning silver hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His face was lined, but his eyes were bright and focused, holding the calm authority.
They walked toward her with hurried steps, and Anya instinctively took a few steps back, her heart thumping.