He entered the room like a storm in a suit — black, clean-cut, sharp at every angle. His hair slicked back, watch glinting under the light. Not a wrinkle on him, not a trace of warmth either.
Aria didn't blink.
Aria Valente (FL)
"Breakfast is ready, eat"
He gave a passing glance at the table — then at her. Cold. Unmoved.
Dante Salvatore (ML)
"I don't want it, I'll eat out."
Aria Valente (FL)
"But I already made it for both of us."
He stopped near the kitchen island, hands in his pockets.
Dante Salvatore (ML)
"DId i ask you to?, eat it yourself."
Her jaw tightened, just a fraction. The silence stretched a second too long — but her voice stayed level.
Aria Valente (FL)
“As your wife, it’s my responsibility to make sure you eat.”
He scoffed, turning away like she wasn’t even worth responding to.
He was already near the door when she spoke again — this time, colder.
Aria Valente (FL)
“Fine. Then don’t expect me to be nice again.”
He paused. Just briefly.
Dante Salvatore (ML)
"You don't have to."
And then he was gone — out the door like her presence meant nothing.
Aria stood in the stillness, surrounded by untouched food and a silence that felt louder than any scream.
She sat down at the table, slowly.
Took a sip of her coffee
> Alright then, she thought. If that’s how he wants it...
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