The Heiress' Revenge Chapter 185: She Took Me Too

Dante’s POV

I sat behind my office desk with papers scattered everywhere, financial reports, legal docunts, and much more, but nothing, none of them ant anything... None of it could fill the empty hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

Two years.

Two years since she died.

Two years since they lowered her casket into the ground.

Two years since I kissed her cold lips and begged her to wake up.

Two years since I lost everything.

My phone rang, but I ignored it.

The door opened, and my assistant walked in. She is the seventh assistant I’ve had this month.

Until today.

"Mr Russo," she said, her voice was soft. "I have those docunts you asked for, the ones from the eting yesterday."

I didn’t look up. "Put them on the desk."

She walked closer and put the docunts on the desk, but didn’t leave; she stood there.

"Is there sothing else?" I asked if my voice was flat.

Cold.

She bit her lips, looking nervous. "I... I need to tell you sothing, Sir."

I looked up at her eyes, which were shining, and her face was flushed.

I knew that look.

I had seen it too many tis from too many won since Ariana died; they had been throwing themselves at .

Everywhere I went.

Every event I attended.

Every eting I had.

They didn’t care that I was broken. They didn’t care that I was grieving or that I would never love again.

"I’m in love with you, Sir," she said, the words tumbled out of her mouth fast and desperately. "I know you’re still grieving. I know you’re still hurting, but I know you think you’ll never love again, and I’m here. I’m nothing like the other girls... I love you not for your money or status, for your power, but for you, the man you are."

I stared at her, my blood was boiling. My jaw was tight.

My hands were clenched into fists.

"Get out," I said with a voice that was low and dangerous.

She stepped closer. "Dante, please. Just give a chance. Just let show you—"

"I said get out!" I stood up I swept my arm across the desk. The papers flew everywhere, scattered on the floor.

They floated in the air and landed at her feet. "You’re fired. Pack your things and leave the building. Don’t co back."

Her face went white. "Dante, please. Please don’t do this. I love you. I really love you. I’m not like the others. I’m not after your money. I just want to make you happy. I just want to be there for you. I just want to—"

"I don’t care what you want." My voice was shaking in anger... "I don’t care if you love . I don’t care if you’re different, I don’t care about any of it. You’re fired, get out. Now."

She stood there for a mont.

Crying.

Begging.

Pleading.

She is aggravating. The re look at her irritated ... how dare she co to with those words?

She finally turned and walked to the door. She paused and looked back at . "You’ll be forever lonely... She’s been gone for two years. She’s not coming back and has to move on. You have to let her go. You have to live."

I picked up a paperweight from my desk. I threw it at the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces. "Get out!"

She ran, and the door slamd behind her

I sank back into my chair and put my head in my hands.

The rage building, knowing that she was right, aggravated even more.

Two years since she died.

And not a day went by that I didn’t think of her, not an hour, a minute, or a second.

I thought about her smile.

Her laugh.

Her eyes.

The way she said my na.

The way she held my hand and the way she loved , even when I didn’t deserve it.

Ariana didn’t just die.

She took my heart with her.

She took my soul.

She took every part of that was capable of feeling, loving, living.

I was empty, hollow, and dead inside, and no woman could fix that.

No woman could fill that void.

No woman could ever take her place.

Because she was my one and only, and she was gone.

The door opened, and Marcus walked in.

He looked at the papers on the floor and the ss I had created he shook his head.

"What happened?" he asked with a careful and concerned voice.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Just fired my assistant."

Marcus sighed

"Let guess. She told you she loved you."

I laughed. It was a bitter sound. "They always do. They think they can fix or make forget."

Marcus turned to face . "Maybe they’re just trying to help. Maybe they just—"

"I don’t want their fucking help!" I stood up, "I don’t want to move on, I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want to forget."

Marcus put his hand on my shoulder. "Dante, it’s been two years. You can’t keep living like this. You can’t keep pushing everyone away and punishing yourself."

I shook his hand off. "I’m not punishing myself. I’m just being honest, there’s no one else. There will never be anyone else, she was it."

"Dante—"

"Don’t." My voice was sharp. "Don’t tell to move on or to let go. Don’t tell to find soone new; you didn’t lose her. You didn’t watch them lower her into the ground, and you most certainly didn’t have to tell your children their mother was never coming ho."

Marcus was quiet for a mont; his face was sad. "You’re right, I didn’t. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I can’t imagine the pain, but I do know that she wouldn’t want this. She wouldn’t want you to be alone. She wouldn’t want you to be miserable. She would want you to live."

I turned to face him.

My eyes were burning. "You don’t know what she would want. You didn’t know her as I did. You didn’t love her as I did. You didn’t lose her as I did."

Marcus stepped back, his hands raised. "Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t an to upset you. I just... I worry about you. We all are."

I walked back to my desk and sat down. I put my head in my hands. "I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since she died, and I don’t think I ever will be."

Marcus walked to the door and then paused. He looked back at . "Just promise you’ll get a hold of yourself, even if not for you, but for the children."

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t because I had already given up. I had already stopped fighting. I was just going through the motions, waiting for the day when I could finally be with her again.

Marcus walked out, closing the m door behind him.

The room was quiet again.

I sat there for a long ti staring at the papers on the floor.

I knew deep down that I would never be whole again or be happy again. I would never be alive again.

Because she took all of that with her when she died, she took too.

And I was just waiting to be buried.