by Kelly, Marie
With a frown he had again looked down at her.
“Then what .............what can you never forgive me for Sam”.
“I don’t want to talk about it Dante” she had said, her voice determined, her face so vulnerable as she had looked over at him her tear stained cheeks adding to her fragility at that moment.
He had looked back at her grasping at her words.
“Left you with what?”
He had asked, as Samantha had moved across the bed pulling on her wrap, shaking her head with determination.
“Nothing, it doesn’t matter”.
Dante had followed her, asking the question again and again as she had tried to move away from him, feeling the anger well up within her as he had continued to follow her, continued to ask the same question over and over as she had tried to get away from him, each time having her escape route blocked by him.
Holding her hand out she had begged him to stop, seeing as he had scowled not letting it go. As he had closed the door to the bathroom, once more stopping her from escaping she had finally turned on him, the hatred rising so strongly in her, her face showing so clearly how she felt for him, her whole body tense and rigid as she had screamed at him.
“You left me with our baby” freezing instantly as the words had left her lips, Dante also freezing the shock so evident on his face.
Moving over to the bed Sam had sank into it, a heart breaking sob wracking her whole body as she had felt the years of coping with what had happened swamping her, the sorrow pouring out of her. She had felt as his hands had pulled her around to hold her against him Sam not able to push him away.
As her sobs had slowed down he had looked down into her distraught features.
“You were pregnant?” he had said in disbelief, seeing as she had nodded, another sob rising within her.
“What happened to our baby” he had prompted gently, seeing as she had looked back at him, her face showing the abject misery she was feeling. Her hand almost childlike rubbing the tears from her reddened eyes, her voice emotionless
“When I left I was so upset I put down the missed periods and the sickness to the fact that I was missing you” hesitating for a second before continuing.
“But finally I went to see the doctor and found out that I was 10 weeks pregnant”.
He had watched as her face had become so sad.
“I didn’t know what to do; I couldn’t tell anybody because I was not sure what I was going to do. Then I started to love the baby..........our baby” her voice breaking once more.
“When I was 20 weeks I started to feel pains, and...” her voice had grown so low, a small sound of pain leaving her.
“Our baby had died”.
Dante had groaned, softly pulling her even harder against him, as she had continued the hurt filling her voice.
“I had to go through with the delivery knowing that our baby was dead” her eyes once more filling with hatred as she had looked back at him.
“Our son was dead” a sob once more wracking through her as she had pushed away, stumbling her way to the bathroom needing to be alone, Dante not stopping her as he had sat shel-shocked on the bed, before groaning with pain his head falling into his hands.
No wonder she hated him. No wonder she looked at him with such contempt. The thought of her coping with all that by herself making him feel sick, sick at himself. When they had first arrived in Greece for the honeymoon, he remembered how mournful he had thought her, the realisation hitting him that she truly had been in mourning, mourning for their child. With another groan he had realised now why she had been so afraid the first day they had made love, now knowing why she had been so nervous and on edge since finding out she was pregnant. He had only cared about himself, his own needs, and she had been suffering so much by herself. Dante felt the self loathing fill him.
It had taken Sam nearly an hour before she was calm enough to leave the bathroom, the pain and hurt so great it had seen her curled up in the corner, her small body cooled by the porcelain tiles, sobs wracking her as the memories had all come rushing back. The memory of seeing the small baby that should have been hers tearing her apart. Finally as she had sat drained of all her tears she had gasped, her hand flying to her stomach, as she had given a small cry feeling the tiniest fluttering, the smallest trace of movement, as though her baby was telling her that it would be alright. Sam could feel the hurt melting from her, as she had wrapped her arms around her stomach, holding this little life inside her, loving it with all her heart.
Moving from the bathroom, she had looked in surprise seeing Dante still sat where she had left him, his face pale, hair askew and eyes haunted as he had looked at her. She looked vulnerable, fragile, yet glowing all at the same time.
“Sam”.
His voice had cracked as his eyes had watched her.
“You’re wrong.......so wrong”.
Sam had wrung her hands, nervously looking back, a sadness hanging over her.
“No......you made your choice Dante....you made it a long time ago”.
As he had stood and moved towards her, she had shrunk back from him, not willing to have him hold her again, afraid of her own reaction, needing to distance herself from this man, this man she had never stopped loving. The realisation of this making her moan softly as she had hated herself even more
“Yesterday when I saw the picture of our child, I realised one thing Sam”.
His voice had cracked, Sam remembering the strange look that had crossed his eyes the previous day as he had looked intently at the small scan picture.
“I knew that you and our baby are more important to me than anything.......we can make this work.......we can be a real family”.
His heart had dropped as she had shaken her head, her features becoming harder.
“I don’t believe you Dante”.
Sam had moved around him, moving to her bedside cabinet. From a small pouch in the back she had pulled out the picture given to her in the coffee shop, anger filling her at his lies and attempts to manipulate her once more.
“What about your mistress?”
She had bit out, sensing surprise from him.
“My what?” his voice full of shock as she had passed it to him.
“I was given this, as proof that you were involved with somebody else”.
He had looked at the picture, his face full of disbelief as she had continued.
“You should be more careful with your mistresses Dante......she work for your enemies”.
Seeing as he had shaken his head.
“Who gave you this?”
A hard look coming to his face.
“Don’t answer that...I know who gave it to you. No...This picture is about a year old Sam, she and I ended soon after Kate’s wedding, I have no mistress...I only want you. These people just want to create a wedge between us”.
She had given a derisory half laugh.
“Don’t treat me like an idiot Dante... the person who gave me this knew everything about our agreement, about our whole relationship......EVERYTHING. I damn well know I didn’t tell them, so it had to be somebody you would tell”.
The anger and hurt once more rising in her.
“And only your mistress could have told them....she told them everything, how else would they know?”
Dante had moved to grip her by the shoulders, an almost relief filling him with the realisation that it had not been Samantha who had told of their arrangement; it had not been her who had been the one to betray him.
“I swear to you Sam that I have no mistress and that I have never told anybody about our agreement. I promise I will find out who has though”.
His face showing anger and determination, angry that somebody had told her such a lie.
Shaking herself free from him, Samantha had stood upright, her chin rising defiantly as her body had shaken.
“I’m tired....very tired......and I need you to leave”.
About to argue, he had seen the fra
gility deep in her eyes, the pain that she was only just managing to hold inside and with a small nod he had stepped back, looking over once more at her before leaving the room.
“I will find a way of proving to you Sam that you are the most important thing in my life. More important even than any business”.
As he had left, he had moved determinedly to his office to seek help from the one person he had never thought he would ever turn to.
The next day the phone call had come, the woman informing her of the vote to take place two weeks from that time. Sam had listened, not commenting to the short message, her insides so conflicted. He had used her, hurt her so much in the past and even now was still tearing her apart. He had been the cause of the single worst thing to happen to her in her short life, and he had left her to deal with it alone. The only thing he was interested in was her father’s business, and this was an opportunity to punish him, her chance at revenge, to teach him that what he had done to her was so wrong.
Placing the phone back down on its cradle she had stared unseeingly into space, her mind in turmoil, before standing tall. Dante needed to be taught a lesson and she needed to be the one to teach him.
For the two weeks to the vote, she had avoided Dante, seeing as he had stayed back from her too, his eyes watching her with concern whenever they were in the same room. What had gone on in her bedroom that day was never mentioned again, and Sam had felt so confused with the emotions swirling inside her. She hated Dante, and loved him at the same time. She yearned for the life he offered, while wanting revenge on him, each day her indecisions playing havoc on her tattered nerves. The only thing keeping her sane was his respecting her plea to leave her alone, Sam not sure how she would handle his pushing her to accept the lie he offered, that it was her and their child he most wanted.
For days she had tortured herself, wishing that she could believe him, believe that he wanted her and their baby, but finally the truth had dawned on her. He did not care about them, he never had. His business was more important than anything else, it always had been. He did not want her; he just wanted to control the 25% of the company. By controlling her he could ensure that he influenced her decisions. This realisation filling her with even more pain, dashing the small hope that had began to flourish within her.
On the day of the vote, Samantha had risen, feeling so sick. She had declined the offer of a car from the woman, whose name was still not known to her, not wanting to be beholden to her in any way, instead choosing to hail a taxi herself. When she had arrived she had been relieved not to see Dante anywhere in sight, part of her surprised that he had not found out about the ballot that was taking place. She had been greeted by the smiling executives of her husband’s competitors, the thought of this making her insides curl up, as she had once more told herself that he deserved this. He had used her in the most cruel way, destroyed her life and all so that he could further his own business empire. Raising her head she had hardened herself, justified in what she had to do.
The ballot papers where handed out to the throng of people in the room, Sam finding herself directed to a comfortable chair by the gushing manager who had obviously been assigned to ensure that she was looked after. As she had stared at the sheet, her hand had quivered, her teeth savaging her lip before with a more decisive movement she had finally marked one of the boxes. Dropping the pen onto the table, like many others she had risen and folded her ballot ignoring the man before her, so keen to deliver it for her, as she had moved to place it into the box herself.
As she had turned the woman, still unknown to her had moved forward, a smile on her lips which again did not reach her cold eyes.
“Thank you Mrs....” she had began as Sam had raised her hand to stop her.
“I do not want to talk about it” she had bitten out, moving away from the woman who had clamped her mouth closed firmly, knowing not to continue. Feeling the tears prickling the back of her eye, she had moved to the door, needing so badly to get out of there, get out of that room, feeling suddenly so claustrophobic.
Moving from the large hall, she had stopped gulping in lungfuls of air, trying hard to calm her shattered nerves. With a small gasp, she had raised her eyes, disbelief filling them as she had seen Dante, groaning softly as he had moved towards her, tears now starting to slide unchecked down her distraught face.
Reaching her he had looked down on Sam, his face not filled with the contempt she had expected, Sam knowing that he knew exactly why she was there, but with concern, his hand reaching out to lift her chin, to look into her face.
“It’s OK Sam...Please don’t cry”.
His voice gentle and full of such warmth
With a sob she had closed her eyes, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry ....I’m so sorry” she had whispered, feeling as he had pulled her into his arms, holding her so close as he had made soothing noises against her head, his mouth kissing her hair.
“No Cara.......do not be....never be sorry” his touches soothing as he had wrapped his arm around her shoulder, Sam leaning closer to him as he had led her out to the waiting car. On the short trip home, he had continued to hold her, feeling her body shaking as he had whispered soft Greek words that soothed her heart sore soul, Sam so unable to speak.
As they had reached home, he had led her to a couch, moving her so that he could look at her, his features still full of concern, but full of something else, something that shone from him.
Hardly able to look at him she had whispered gently.
“You knew....why didn’t you say something?”
He had knelt down beside her, lifting a handkerchief to gently dab away the tears still spilling down her cheeks.
“Because Cara, it was the only way I knew to show you that you and our baby are the most important things in my life, and because if that was what it would take........then so be it”.
Sam had raised her eyes to his, hers full of such pain.
“How long have you known?”
He had held her gaze.
“I knew the day after Carlotta first met you” he had replied softly, as she had raised her head giving another soft sob, Sam struggling grasping at the picture the woman had given her.
“What about your mistress Dante?” she had thrown at him, seeing as he had shaken his head.
“She is not my mistress Sam” he had replied softly, as she had given a hollow laugh devoid of humour.
“You really expect me to believe that...How else could they have known about our deal”.
Gently he had taken her hands.
“After you told me about the baby and what they had told you...I phoned your father Sam”.
“You did what?” she had cried incredulously, Dante continuing.
“They told you a half truth. It was a mistress that informed them of our deal.....but not mine”.
Seeing the confusion on her face he had finished.
“It was your father’s. When he found out, he made her admit everything, he was mad as hell Sam, but please believe me I have no mistress nor have I any interest in one”.
With a soft groan she had looked imploringly at him.
“Why didn’t you stop me?”
A sound of pain coming from her.
“I was going to.....I had set in motion rulings that would have prevented you from voting against me. Then...It was just so much more important to let you go through with it....to show you that it was you I wanted....not the company ... YOU”.
Looking back at him, her lips had trembled.
“But why.....why would you do that?”
Her voice almost inaudible, full of shame, as he had cupped her cheeks pulling her head to him so gently as he had kissed her lips so briefly.
“Because Cara...I love you”.
Sam had looked at him in stunned shock, hardly able to understand what he had just said as she had stuttered.
“W...what did you say?”
Dante pulling back slightly so that he could look deeply into
her green eyes, his voice full of such honesty.
“I love you Samantha. I love you with everything in me”.
A look of pain touching his handsome features
“And it tears me apart knowing what I have done to you. What I did in the past, and I am begging you to give me one more chance”.
With her eyes now flitting across his face, reading only truth in him she had raised her hand to touch his cheek, seeing as he had closed his eyes at the feel of her hand.
“But...but what about your company?” she had whispered, Dante shaking his head.