Chapter 256 Regret
The sudden embrace left Anne stunned for a few seconds. She could smell a faint hint of cologne on Dante, a scent that was vaguely familiar. It suddenly dawned on her that a year ago, for Dante’s birthday, she had given him a bottle of cologne that smelled just like this. Back then, they hadn’t yet started talking about divorce. After giving him the gift, she noticed he hadn’t used it. Gradually, Anne had forgotten about it.
It was only later, during a room cleaning, that she discovered the cologne was still in Dante’s closet, unopened, with the ribbon still intact. The realization had hurt her deeply. She’d painstakingly chosen that gift over several weeks, wrapping it herself, only to find it shoved away, neglected. It felt like a slap in the face.
At this moment, in the face of Dante’s unexpected declaration of love, Anne felt oddly calm. Anne no longer wanted to exhaust herself over Dante. She had loved him deeply but never received the response she longed for. That love had gradually dwindled away. Now, Anne had come to realize that it was better to love herself first. What she needed was to let go, even though the process was painful. But stepping away was necessary.
Anne took a step back, freeing herself from Dante’s embrace, her eyes reflecting a distant sadness. “I already know about Lola. The police came by a few days ago and told me that my injury wasn’t an accident—it was orchestrated by Lola. So, I’ll be handling the lawsuit myself.”
Dante looked momentarily stunned, as if he hadn’t expected her response to be so calm. It was almost as if she was talking about someone else’s situation.
“As for your love… I’m sorry. I once loved you deeply and hoped for a response, but now, I no longer do. Dante, for the sake of our past, just let me go.”
Dante’s eyes widened in pain. “How can you stop loving me? Anne, I refuse to accept that! You must love me—you’re mine!”
Before Anne could react, Dante, disregarding the setting of the hospital corridor, bent down and forcefully kissed her. Anne instinctively tried to pull away, but Dante’s grip was unyielding. He held her shoulders firmly, pinning her against the wall. Their lips met, and the moment Anne’s lips parted, Dante’s tongue slid in, hungrily exploring and entwining with hers. It was as though he was trying to melt her with his fervor. Anne struggled instinctively, but he was overwhelming and insistent. Feeling that he was crossing the line, Anne raised her hand and slapped Dante hard.
“I don’t love you anymore, can’t you understand that? You used to be so arrogant. Now, begging me to love you—don’t you find that pathetic? You’re Dante, the young master of the Paltrow family, for heaven’s sake! Don’t you have plenty of women?”
Anne had had enough of the lonely nights. She thought to herself, “We’ve been married for three years, but Dante’s visits home were few and far between. Every time I tried to reach him, he was either with that crowd of his or answering the phone with Lola on the line. It felt like a widow’s life. Once or twice, I could tolerate it, but three years in, I’ve reached my breaking point. Lola is a problem, but is Dante blameless? He’s always with Lola, leaving me, his legitimate wife, in the dust. Where is his sense of responsibility as a married man?”
Dante was taken aback when Anne struck him in public. Dante said, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and defiance, “Yeah, the Paltrow heir can have any woman he wants. Maybe you’re right! But Anne, I only want you!”
Since his dignity was already in tatters, Dante had nothing left to lose. He let go of his pride and grabbed Anne’s hand, pulling it towards his own face. “Anne, go ahead, hit me if you want. Hit me as many times as you need. Just please, if it’ll make you feel better, I’m begging you—love me again!”