His Angel's Final Ashes

The cooling-off period for the annulment was about to end.

During this time, Dante hadn't returned to the estate once.

That evening, I was wandering aimlessly when I found myself at the café outside the church.

To my surprise, I saw Angelina inside.

She was still wearing that faded shirt, the sleeves rolled to her elbows, revealing the unhealed wound on her arm.

Suddenly, she looked up and saw me. Her eyes lit up, and she hurried over.

"Thank you for your help the other day. My boyfriend would like to take you to dinner, to thank you."

In my past life, Dante had said that Angelina was different from the women who chased his power—her eyes were clear and innocent, like a blank slate.

I used to find that laughable.

But now, meeting her clear, sincere gaze, I couldn't bring myself to argue.

"There's no need. I was just passing by," I said evasively.

After we sat down, her eyes suddenly reddened.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She lowered her head, tears spilling from her lashes. "I think I might be pregnant. But he's been avoiding me these past few days. Do you think… he doesn't want the baby?"

So, they had slept together.

I should have expected it, but the truth still felt like a cold hand squeezing my heart.

I had foolishly hoped that Dante's obsession with her was just a phase, that he would grow tired of it and eventually return to me.

It seemed I was only deluding myself.

"Do you think he's... seeing someone else?"

That question sent a chill down my spine.

If she discovered Dante's identity and his marriage, with her conscience, she'd surely leave.

And knowing him, he would unleash his fury on me—and on my sister, Bella.

In my past life, when Bella was attacked by a rival family, Dante was the first to get the news.

But he stopped the family's doctor from going to save her.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, forcing myself to remain calm.

"No, don't overthink it," I told her softly.

After comforting her, I made an excuse to use the restroom. I pulled out my phone and called Leo.

"Move up Bella's flight to Switzerland. Tonight. Book the ticket and tell her to head to the airport now."

The moment I hung up, I called Bella.

Her voice, warm and familiar, came through the receiver—and a cold dread washed over me.

"Eliana, did you and Dante have a fight?" she asked.

I wanted to tell her everything. That in our past life, she died. That he had my legs broken, then locked me away in a mental asylum to rot.

He would never allow anyone to threaten the life he had built for his precious Angelina.

The memories churned in my gut. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, choking back a sob.

"Eliana, whatever you do, I'll always be on your side. We only have each other," Bella said.

Her voice was a warm balm, but it only amplified my terror.

I was afraid Dante would find out she was leaving and, in a rage, drag her back just as he had in our past life.

I was afraid this call was being monitored.

I was afraid all my plans would fall apart.

Most of all, I was afraid Bella wouldn't run fast enough, and he would catch her again.

"I love you, Bella. Wait for me. We'll be together again soon."