The Unwanted Wife He Broke In Rain

Dante POV

The silence in the house was heavy. It wasn't the peaceful kind. It was the oppressive kind, the sort that pressed against your eardrums until they threatened to pop.

I sat in my study, staring at the stack of reports. Three days. It had been three days since the ball.

Sera was sulking. That was her new favorite pastime. She was hiding in the servant's quarters or the attic, nursing her wounded pride. She wanted me to come find her. She wanted me to drag her out and force her to apologize.

I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

She needed to learn that her jealousy had consequences. She needed to understand that Elena was under my protection, and I wouldn't tolerate her petty vindictiveness.

"Let's go to the Hamptons," Elena had suggested the morning after the ball. "Just you, me, and Leo. Get away from the stress."

I had agreed. I needed a break from Sera's cold, dead eyes. I needed to punish her with my absence.

We spent three days on the coast. I took photos. I let Elena post them. *Family time,* the captions read. I wanted Sera to see them. I wanted her to feel the sting of exclusion.

We returned late on Tuesday. The house was dark.

I walked into the kitchen and sat at the island.

"Tea," I barked into the emptiness. "Earl Grey. Two sugars."

Usually, Sera would be there before the words left my mouth. She would have the kettle on. She would have my favorite mug waiting.

Nothing happened.

The house remained silent.

I slammed my hand on the counter. "Sera!"

Elena walked in, yawning. "She's probably asleep, Dante. Or ignoring you."

I stood up. Anger coiled in my gut. I walked to the servant's quarters in the east wing.

The door was unlocked. I pushed it open.

"Get up," I said. "I want my tea."

The room was empty.

The bed was made. The sheets were tight, undisturbed. No one had slept here.

I frowned. I checked the small closet. Her grey uniforms were hanging there.

I checked the bathroom. Dry.

"She must be in the attic," I muttered.

I climbed the stairs to the attic. It was locked from the outside, just as I had left it. I unlocked it.

Empty.

Dust motes danced in the beam of my flashlight. The bed was stripped.

A cold prickle of unease started at the base of my neck.

"Where the hell are you?" I whispered.

I went back downstairs and called the head of security.

"Where is my wife?"

Mario hesitated. "Sir? We haven't seen her since the ball. We thought she was with you."

My grip on the phone tightened until the plastic creaked. "You thought she was with me? Did you see her get in the car?"

"No, sir. But..."

"Find her," I roared. "Check the grounds. Check the guest house."

I hung up. She was playing games. She was hiding somewhere, trying to scare me. Trying to make me worry.

It wouldn't work.

I went to my office and pulled up her bank accounts. I had given her a black card. I had given her access to the household funds.

If she was gone, she would need money.

I logged in.

Last transaction: Three months ago. A grocery store.

Nothing since.

She hadn't touched a dime.

Elena walked in, holding a glass of wine. "Is she hiding?"

"She's gone," I said, staring at the screen.

Elena smiled, hiding it behind the rim of her glass. "Maybe she finally realized she doesn't belong here. Maybe she did us a favor."

I looked at Elena. For a second, her voice grated on my nerves.

"She has nowhere to go," I said. "She's an orphan. I am her world. She'll be back when she gets hungry."

I picked up the phone and dialed the bank.

"Freeze her cards," I ordered. "Cut off everything. When she tries to buy a sandwich, I want the card to decline. I want her to know who feeds her."

I hung up. I leaned back in my chair.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Sera," I said to the empty room. "But I always win."