Ruined in Vows (Marchetti Family #3)

13. Allegra

Chapter 13

Allegra

“ D ante?” I gasp out his name, through my tight throat.

Though my singular focus is on the confused man in front of me, the shock surrounding us is palpable, a living, breathing entity.

Dante frowns, his face a picture of confusion as I stare at a ghost from my past. Mamma steps forward, her soft, placating voice breaking our trance.

“Dante? Is that you?” she asks, emotion thick in her voice.

His head whips to Mamma, eyes narrowing as he assesses her. My heart beats painfully in my chest, so loud I hear it in my ears. Though I want to run to Dante, feel his strong arms wrapped around me once again, I stay rooted to the spot. A range of emotions flicker inside me. Disbelief. Alarm. Anxiety. Guilt. Anger. Shock. But the most predominant one is fear. Because the man I love, the one who loved me in return is looking at me like I am a complete stranger.

“I'm sorry. I think you have me confused with someone else. My name is Luca.” His deep timbre snaps me from my reverie, seeping into the space in my chest, and warming my heart.

Glancing around at the guards, I shoot them a warning look, silently asking them to stay put and not intervene. We don’t want to alarm or scare him off. Taking a slow, steady step toward him, I take in his face, body, every part of him. He may think his name is Luca, but I would know this man anywhere. It is him. It’s my Dante.

His dark wide eyes shift back to me, narrowing cautiously when he notices me moving toward him. Smiling softly, I say his name again, hoping it sparks some recollection and tasting it on my tongue.

“Dante,” I choke out. It's been so long since I said his name out loud. It feels foreign, but... right. “Your name is not Luca. It’s Dante,” I tell him sternly. He watches me curiously, his chest heaving faster, the closer I get to him. But I don’t stop, instead testing the waters and reaching out and taking his hand in mine. Electricity shoots through me at the contact and I know he feels it too when his eyes snap to mine, his lips parting in... Suprise?

Glancing down at our entwined hands, I smile at the feel of him only for it to fall when I catch sight of the gold wedding band on his ring finger. Pain pierces the organ in my chest, radiating through my body. He is married? My reproachful gaze snaps to his, though really, I have no idea what I am accusing him of.

I pause, briefly wondering if I have this all wrong. Is this just a case of mistaken identity and in fact Dante has a doppelganger? I mean don’t they say we all have a doppelganger, and in some kind of twisted fate, I just happened to stumble across Dante’s?

No. I refuse to believe that.

If the steady, strong rhythm of my heart - that only started to beat properly when my gaze locked on this man - is any indication, then I know I am right. Sucking in a breath, I realize what I need to see to confirm what I already know. I give myself a couple of seconds, then without hesitation, I turn his hand, a shuddering breath leaving me when I find what I am looking for.

The small scar on his forefinger, from when he helped me out of a tree stares back at me. I was only around eight and decided it would be a good idea to climb a tree in our backyard, when I got stuck. Of course Dante, my hero, came to my rescue, but ended up ripping his finger open on a broken, sharp branch. The cut was deep but not threatening, and after my mamma got him cleaned and stitched up, he went about his day as if nothing happened. The scar was a reminder though. And I am hoping by pointing it out, it will stir some memories.

“You see this?” I motion to the mark. His brows furrow in confusion. My chest tightens at the lost look in his eyes. “You got this, helping me out of a tree,” I say softly.

Dante pulls his hand from my grip, taking a step back and putting space between us. Anger and tension radiate from every inch of him as he stares at me with narrowed eyes. My face falls, heart cracking in two, because I already know what he is going to say.

He shakes his head, rejecting my story. “No. You are wrong, lying, or both. I am Luca Mancini. Married to Caterina. I don't know you,” he grates out, through clenched teeth, his chest heaving with his anger. From the corner of my eye, I see the guards moving in, but I shake my head silently telling them not to come any closer. “This was a mistake. I should have never approached you.” He turns on his heel, ready to leave, but I call out to him, stopping him in his tracks. He glances at me over his shoulder. The confusion and distress in his eyes is gut punching, but I am relieved that he is at least open to hearing whatever else I have to say.

“Please. I’m not lying. You do know me. We were...” I trail off, swallowing. “ Are in love. Your best friend is Nico, my brother. My mamma,” I motion to her, “has been like a mother to you, your whole life. You. Know. Me.” I enunciate, hoping to get through to him. “I don’t know what happened, but we were told you died in a fire at my brother’s club. There was no body. We had a funeral for you though. Mourned for you. I still mourn your loss every day,” I choke out, my emotions getting the best of me.

“No,” he snaps, his hands cupping his shaking head as if he is in pain.

“Yes, Dante,” Mamma speaks up.

I look over at her, seeing the same fear in her eyes that mirrors mine.

“If you don’t believe me, then come to the penthouse suite at The Diamond Resort and Casino,” I all but beg. “I–”

“I can’t,” he cuts me off harshly.

“Please,” I plead. “We are in town until Sunday. Let me prove it to you, Dante. I have proof of us together, but I left my cell phone at my hotel.” I curse myself for not having the foresight to bring my phone. Athena brought hers to take pictures, so I didn’t think that I needed to bring mine.

“Convenient.” His laugh is sardonic. “And stop fucking calling me by that name,” he hisses, turning to face me and running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“No.” I snap in frustration. “It is your name.” Taking a cautious step toward him, I feel the guards move with me. Placing my hand on his chest, I watch closely as he sucks in a breath. His eyes close as if my touch physically pains him, but I know he is feeling the same as me. Our undeniable connection. Surely, he must know that there was a reason he approached me. Subconsciously, his soul knows mine.

“Why did you follow me?” I ask, but don’t give him a chance to answer. “You felt it didn't you? Our connection.” It’s a statement because I know he did. You would have to be blind not to see the sparks flying between us right now. He groans, moving away from me. My hand falls from his body, and I hate that he has severed our link.

He shakes his head, his eyes searching my face as he mulls over my words. Hope blooms inside me, only to crash and burn when he turns his back on me.

“I don’t feel anything,” he mumbles before walking away and disappearing into the crowds.

Pain radiates through me at his dismissal. It’s so strong I almost fall to my knees. Mamma grabs my right arm as Athena, who has stayed quiet through this whole interaction, holds the left. It’s the only reason I am standing right now. If it were not for their support I would be on the dirty asphalt.

“What the hell just happened?” Mamma whispers, concern lacing every word.

I shake my head, choking out, “I don’t know, but it's him, Mamma.”

“I know,” she murmurs, rubbing at my arm.

Straightening, I turn to face the guards, barking out orders. “Two of you follow him. We are going back to the hotel. Call Nico when you find out where Dante is.” They do as they’re bid, disappearing through the throngs of people just like the man I love did, not even a minute ago.

“Come on. Let’s go. We need to talk to Nico.” Determination courses through my body as we start for our hotel.

No matter what happens.

I am making it my mission to remind Dante of who he is.

My voice is choked, my chin trembles when I relay everything that just happened to my brother.

He stares at me as if I have completely lost my mind and he is about to take me to the nearest institution. It's only when my mamma speaks up that I see the tiniest flash of optimism light up his eyes. He wants this to be real, but he also doesn't want to get his hopes up if I have got this all wrong. Truthfully, I would believe I conjured him in my traumatized mind had Mamma and Athena not seen Dante with their own eyes.

Nico runs his fingers through his dark hair, watching me closely. His features are indifferent, blank and frankly infuriating. Looking away from me, he glances at Mamma then his wife. Ocean looks as hopeful as I feel. I know she feels guilty for what happened, though I never blamed her. But she has worn the guilt like a badge of honor, since the awful day we were given the news of Dante’s death.

“So, what you are telling me is that Dante is alive? That you saw him with your own eyes and even talked to him?” Nico finally asks.

I nod. “Yes. Ask Alessio. It was him, Nic.”

My brother glances at Alessio, a silent question in his eyes. Alessio clears his throat. “It looked like Dante, boss. Allegra even pointed out the tiny scar on his finger.”

A sigh of relief escapes me at Alessio’s response.

A thoughtful look crosses his features. He is silent for a long moment, no doubt mulling everything over. “Fuck. If it is Dante, then there is more to this than we are aware of. This has got to be a setup of some sort. Though we believe Riccardo is somehow involved, we can’t be sure.”

A cell ringing has us all looking at Alessio. He glances at the screen before swiping to answer. I know without asking, it's the call we have been waiting for. “Yeah?” he pauses, listening to whatever is being said. “Okay. Come back to the hotel. Nico will let you know how he wants to proceed.” He ends the call, looking over at us. “He entered The Palazzo Hotel and used the elevator up to the private offices. Our men are on the way back and will await your instructions for what you want to happen next.”

Nico stands, pacing the room in front of the big window. “I don’t know what to do. We have no clue what we are dealing with here, or the extent of – if it is him - Dante’s medical condition,” my brother rasps, and despite not knowing what is going on with Dante, it was clear in our short interaction that something has happened to his memory. “Fuck, we don’t even know what he has been through or who orchestrated this. He said he was married right?”

“Yeah,” I whisper over the lump in my throat.

Nico’s eyes narrow. “And you're sure it was him?” he asks for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Yes, goddamnit, Nic. It was Dante.”

“Okay,” he rumbles placatingly. “You asked him to come here.” It’s not a question but I answer anyway.

“Yeah. I told him how long we were staying. He got spooked but something tells me he will come to us,” I say hopefully.

“Good. We cannot just ambush him in his hotel. We don't know who is watching.” He takes a seat beside Ocean, taking her hand in his and peppering a couple of kisses as if he needs to be touching her for strength. “So, we wait. And if he doesn’t show, we will have a couple of the guards follow him. At some point they will find an opening to get him alone and they can bring him to us. It's a last resort, but at this point, I need to see him with my own eyes and assess what we are dealing with.”

Sagging back on the couch, I let Nico’s words sink in.

I can be patient.

Because one way or another, whether by force or of his own free will.

I will be seeing Dante in the next couple of days.