Page 200 of Anti-Heroes in Love Duet

“What else are you keeping from me?” I whispered, the words too hot in my cold mouth. “Do you really intend to marry Mirabella? You’ll just keep me as some mistress on the side because you know I love you enough to stick around? You’re wrong, Dante. I could never do that. I won’t watch you kiss another woman or have kids with anyone but me.”

My voice wasn’t hysterical, but every word was increasingly cold, icy smoke like dry ice.

“Elena, do not jump to fantastical conclusions,” he ground out. He lunged forward slightly to grab my hand, his grip tender but firm. “I haven’t lied to you about anything. I just kept this secret from you because Cosima and Tore asked me to.”

“And you put them first. I understand.”

And I did.

I thought, for once, I’d found someone who would love me best, but once again love had proved me foolish and naïve.

“He doesn’t feel that way about her anymore,” Tore interjected. “It’s obvious to everyone with eyes that he’s never felt this way about anyone before.”

My eyes clicked closed slowly like a stuttering camera shutter.

There was something there.

He doesn’t care about herlike thatanymore.

My breath caught in my throat and solidified, choking me. There was wet in my eyes and horror painted onto every inch of my face when I looked between Cosima and Dante.

His face was set in stone, giving away nothing.

Which was how I knew.

Dante had an animated face, a mobile mouth and depthless eyes that usually gave away his emotions.

He’d shut down because once, however long ago, maybe evenstill, he’d been in love with my sister.

There was an ear-splitting, earth rumbling sound in my ears as a crater opened in my chest and my failing heart fell into my stomach.

“You loved her?” I whispered so quietly, he had to read my lips.

“No, never like this.” He tugged me closer by the hand, gripping my chin tightly in the other so his ink dark eyes were all I could see. They were filled with a frenzied passion, so intense they burned. “Once, maybe, I thought of more, but never ever came of it. Cosima was always in love Alexander. And now I know howscioccoI was because the way I love you makes the possibility of ever having loved someone else or ever loving anyone else again impossible.” He wrenched the hand he still possessed onto his chest over his heart. “You own me, Elena. You and only you.”

Tears burned the backs of my eyes, but they didn’t fall. I calmly wrenched my hand from his grip and backed away.

Was it impossible to find a man who hadn’t loved one of my sisters first?

Was I always destined to be second choice?

Bitterness swamped me, blackening the edges of my vision and suddenly, even in the balmy Neapolitan winter air, I was cold through to my bones.

I moved away faster, seeing the tension in Dante’s muscles threatening to come after me. I couldn’t bear the thought. Just looking at him, his big handsome face, his beautiful, rough-tipped hands and ruddy mouth, made my brain sabotage every memory we made by picturing it with his first choice.

With Cosima.

My eyes closed as I fought the sob rising like a meteorite in my throat.

“Elena,” Cosima called. I opened my lids to find her standing, coming toward me, her beautiful face patterned with horror. “Trust me,cara mia, Dante and I were never in love. We were never meant to be. This is not an issue. A blind man could see how in love you two are.”

Not an issue.

Finally, wet broke free of my lids and rolled down my cheeks, dripping off my chin and the tip of my nose.

“I’ve never been the first choice,” I croaked. “And I won’t settle anymore for second place. I need some space. Don’t follow me, Dante.”

He was opening his mouth when I spun on my heel and darted into the house. By the time he realized I was leaving the property, I was already in the Lambo peeling down the driveway, my capo a fading statue in the rearview mirror.