Chapter 6 - The Dance Everyone Remembered
One year after the wedding that never happened, I returned to the same ballroom.
Not as a bride.
As the founder of a legal advocacy organization helping women escape coercive family situations.
My mother organized the gala.
My father donated the building.
And Dante?
Dante arrived late.
Naturally.
I saw him beneath the chandeliers.
Black tuxedo.
Open collar.
Gray beginning to show at his temples.
Tattoos visible above his shirt and across his hands.
Several people instinctively moved aside as he crossed the room.
He stopped in front of me.
“You’re staring.”
“So are you.”
“You look beautiful.”
I smiled.
“You clean up well.”
“I own mirrors.”
“Debatable.”
He offered his hand.
“Dance?”
I looked at it.
For a second, I remembered another ballroom.
Another dress.
Another man.
Another version of myself who had believed every door was locked.
Then I placed my hand in Dante’s.
We walked onto the dance floor.
His hand settled carefully at my waist.
“Too close?” he asked.
“No.”
We moved beneath the chandeliers.
Slowly.
Naturally.
Around us, conversations softened.
People watched.
A year earlier, they had watched me refuse a marriage.
Tonight, they watched me choose a man.
Dante leaned slightly closer.
“I need to ask you something.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It might be.”
He reached into his jacket.
I immediately stopped dancing.
“Dante.”
He froze.
“What?”
“If that’s a ring, do not get on your knee in front of two hundred people.”
His expression was priceless.
I started laughing.
“You were going to.”
“I reconsidered.”
“You absolutely were.”
He sighed.
“Sofia.”
“Yes?”
He removed a small box.
But kept it closed.
“No audience. No pressure. No business agreement. No families negotiating anything.”
My laughter faded.
“If you say no, we finish the dance.”
My eyes burned.
“And if I say yes?”
“Then I spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret choosing me.”
I stared at him.
The most feared man in the ballroom looked genuinely nervous.
It was wonderful.
“Open it.”
He did.
The ring was simple.
Elegant.
Nothing like the enormous diamond Cassian had once put on my finger.
I looked up.
“One condition.”
“Name it.”
“I keep my name.”
“Obviously.”
“My work continues.”
“I’d be terrified to stop you.”
“My money stays mine.”
“Absolutely.”
“And you never again open a marriage proposal with an offer to steal someone’s wedding night.”
Dante finally laughed.
“I was hoping we could forget that.”
“Never.”
His hand tightened gently around mine.
“So?”
I let him wait three more seconds.
Because he deserved it.
Then I smiled.
“Yes.”
Dante exhaled.
People around us noticed.
My mother covered her mouth.
My father smiled from across the ballroom.
But Dante didn’t kiss me immediately.
He leaned closer.
“May I?”
That question.
After everything.
That was why I loved him.
I touched his face.
May you like
“Yes.”
And kissed him.
