Shattered Vows And Betrayal

Exhaustion from a full shift pulled at Cora’s limbs as she sank onto the living room couch to rest her eyes. She had clocked out two hours early just to set up a candlelit dinner for her six-month wedding anniversary. Minutes later, the click of the front lock opening snapped her awake.

The familiar smell of her husband’s cologne drifted into the room, bringing her upright. Getting to her feet, she smoothed down the hem of her fitted blue knee-length peplum dress and walked over with a bright smile to greet him.

“How did work go today?” she asked cheerfully.

Dante didn’t even spare her a glance, brushing right past her to drop onto the couch. Cora swallowed the familiar ache in her chest—a sting she had grown all too used to over the past few months—and forced her smile to stay in place. Turning back toward the seating area, she walked over and halted directly in front of him.

“Is everything al—” The words died in her throat as he held out a brown envelope.

“Put your name on it.” The dead flatness in his voice sent a cold shiver down her back; never once had he spoken to her with that kind of hostility.

“What’s inside?” she asked.

“Divorce papers.”

Her knees nearly gave out at the two words, forcing her to stumble a step back as shock washed over her face. “W-what?” she breathed out, barely audible. Nothing had prepared her for this. Sure, their marriage lacked romance and warmth, but things couldn’t possibly be bad enough for him to hand her divorce papers out of nowhere, could they?

“You heard me, Cora! I want out of this marriage! Tying the knot with you was a mistake, and I am completely sick and tired of dealing with you!” he roared, surging to his feet and kicking the center table hard enough to make her flinch.

Every word hit her like a physical blow. Their history stretched all the way back to childhood, and even after her family relocated out of the city, her feelings for him had never faded. Reuniting ten years later had brought them right back together, leading to a wedding just a month after they reconnected—making tonight the exact six-month mark since they exchanged vows.

“Dante, please,” she choked out, her lips quivering even as she clung to a shred of hope. “You know how much I love you. I can’t do this without you... you’re pulling a prank on me, right? Today marks half a year since our wedding. I put together a whole dinner so we could celebrate. Tell me this is just a bad joke, please!” Her voice climbed higher as she reached out to take his hands, only for him to jerk out of her reach.

“I’m done pretending for your benefit. Just sign the damn documents and put both of us out of this misery,” Dante replied, his tone frigid. “I want you gone from my life, Cora!”

“Please don’t do this, Dante, you’re tearing me apart! If I’ve fallen short somewhere, just tell me what it is and I’ll fix it, I swear I’ll change for you... just don’t walk out on me. I love you too much, please, Dante?” Desperation spilled into every word. Part of her had still wanted to believe he was messing with her, yet the stony look on his face left zero doubt—he meant every bit of it.

“Except I don’t have any love for you, Cora. Never have. Not even while we were in bed together did I feel a damn thing,” he stated casually.

“Bed? Dante, what are you saying? You were my very first, and we were together in bed just two nights ago!” she protested.

Dante stepped in, closing the small space between them as his blue eyes darkened, locking straight onto her brown ones. *Damn those eyes of hers,* he cursed silently, feeling his physical hunger spike the longer he looked at her. *Fuck, I need to cut her loose. I despise her.* Reaching out, he clamped a hand around her waist and yanked her flush against his tall, solid build.

Cora shifted her gaze away nervously, only for him to catch her chin, tilting her face up to meet the heavy lust in his stare before crashing his mouth down on hers in a rough, commanding kiss.

Shock held Cora frozen in place. She couldn't even process it enough to kiss him back before the sheer force of his mouth stole all the air from her lungs. Starved for oxygen, she planted her palms against his chest and shoved. He didn't budge an inch, forcing her to gather every ounce of strength she had left to push against him again until their mouths finally tore apart. Cora sucked in a ragged breath.

A low groan rumbled in Dante’s throat as he swallowed hard and scrubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. *Damn it all,* he thought, realizing how close he had come to losing control right there if she hadn't shoved him off. *Fuck, I’m already hard. I need to get out of here before I completely snap.*

“Same as right now—purely for convenience,” he said flatly.

Cora shook her head, refusing to accept what he was claiming. Snatching up his suit jacket and car keys, he spoke in a rough, gravelly voice. “I’m heading over to the old mansion. Being under the same roof as you makes me sick. Make sure that—” He jabbed a finger toward the brown envelope, which had slipped from her fingers onto the floor during the kiss. “—has your signature on it before I get back. You’ve got seven days.”

With that, he pivoted toward the door.

“No! Please!” Dropping straight to her knees, Cora threw her arms around his leg to hold him in place. “Don’t leave, please! I’ll do better, I’ll be a good wife, okay?”

He pried her grip off his leg and stepped toward the exit, pausing only when her voice rose behind him again.

“I’m not signing those papers! I’ll find a way to change your mind. Deep down you do love me, Dante—please stay here, don’t walk out!”

A short, humorless laugh escaped him before he pulled the door open and walked out.

***

Time blurred together while Cora stayed crumpled on the floor. When she finally tried to push herself back onto her feet, a wave of dizziness washed over her vision, dropping her into darkness. The distant sound of the house help calling out her name was the last thing that registered before she blacked out.

***

The next morning, Cora bolted upright in her bed, her heart racing against her ribs. Dragging a trembling hand through her hair, she squeezed her eyes shut as the memory of last night's clash hit her all over again.

*I’m going to make him stay.*

*Dante does love me. I’ve never caught him around another woman, and he didn't claim to be in love with anyone else either—which means there is still hope.* Shifting to the edge of the mattress, she picked up her phone, dialed her job, and asked for a week of personal leave. The clock on her screen read 7:30 a.m. once she hung up, bringing back the memory of passing out on the floor after crying on her knees for so long.

After washing up and getting dressed, she headed downstairs to eat. The maids quickly ducked their heads to avoid meeting her eyes as she walked in. *They must have overheard the whole fight yesterday,* she realized, offering a faint smile anyway as she took her seat at the dining table.

As an only child, Cora Vance had lost both of her parents in a brutal wreck when she was just six years old. Her uncle and aunt had taken her in alongside their own six-year-old daughter, turning her childhood into a living hell. Neither her aunt nor her cousin ever wasted a single chance to make her life miserable.

Those dark years were when Dante first came into her life. Back then, he was a cute, chubby kid from the neighborhood who constantly trailed after her. She had kept her distance at first, right up until the day she caught her cousin bullying and mocking him over his weight. Stepping in had sparked a friendship between them that eventually grew into something much deeper.

Over the years, Dante shed the weight and grew into the most sought-after guy in school, while Cora turned into the prettiest girl in their class. Yet out of nowhere, he started keeping his distance from her. Before she could corner him to ask what had gone wrong, her uncle’s job transferred him, forcing the whole family to relocate.

Ten whole years passed without a word until an accident landed Dante in the exact hospital where she worked. Once he was discharged, he vanished again, only to show up out of thin air a month later with a marriage proposal. Overjoyed, she had said yes on the spot, never once suspecting he would demand a divorce half a year later.

Finishing off her plate, she decided to put her plan into motion and win her husband back. She pulled out her phone and called his secretary to check on his whereabouts.

“Morning, Paige,” Cora greeted.

“Good morning, Madam,” the secretary replied in a crisp, professional voice.

“Could you tell me what your boss’s schedule looks like today?”

“Madam, Mr. Morretti cleared all of his meetings until this afternoon so he could set up a surprise for you over at the Elysium.”

“He did? Thank you!” Cora hung up right away, a sudden rush of relief and joy flooding her chest. She knew it—Dante truly did love her, and all those awful things he threw at her last night hadn't meant a thing. Beaming, she hurried straight out to her car and drove toward the five-star hotel.

Pulling into the Elysium lot, she climbed out in such a rush that she left her handbag behind on the seat, snatching only her phone before slamming the car door shut.

She tapped the screen to ring Dante on her way toward the main entrance, only to freeze mid-step when she spotted him ahead in the lobby. Picking up her pace to catch him, she came to a dead halt the second she noticed the woman walking beside him.

His arm was curved gently around the woman’s waist, and he was looking down at her with a warm, tender smile—an expression Cora had never once received in six months of marriage, not even in the middle of their most intimate nights together. Watching the two of them step into the elevator broke her heart all over again.

Hot tears stung her eyes, though she forced them back down. *No, Dante loves me. Don’t jump to conclusions,* she told herself, drawing a shaky breath in and out. *Maybe that woman is just an event planner helping him put my surprise together. Yes, just stay calm, Cora.*

Walking up to the front desk, she put on a polite smile for the receptionist. “Hello.”

“Hi there, how can I assist you today?” the woman behind the counter asked with a practiced smile.

“Could I get the room number for my husband, please?”

“May I have his name?”

“Dante Morretti,” Cora replied.

The receptionist tapped at her keyboard for a long moment, glanced up to study Cora’s face, and clicked through another screen before speaking. “I apologize, Madam, but we don’t have anyone under that name registered here.” Having just watched the hotel owner head upstairs with his wife minutes ago, the clerk wondered who this fraud in front of her was supposed to be.

“What? I just watched him get into the elevator right over there. He’s setting up a surprise for me here,” Cora pressed.

Confusion flickered across the clerk’s face. If this woman was faking her identity, how could she possibly know about a surprise? “Ma’am, is your husband expecting you right now?”

Cora nearly admitted that he wasn't, catching herself at the last second. “Yes,” she lied, shifting her gaze away from the woman’s stare.

“All right then. It’s Suite 308 up on the ninth floor,” the receptionist said, sliding a key card across the counter.

Thanking her, Cora took the card and headed straight for the elevators.

When she reached Suite 308, she noticed the main door was already cracked open a few inches and pushed it inward without knocking. All the lights in the front room were blazing, making her frown slightly. *Aren't rooms usually dark before a surprise?* Maybe she was overthinking it.

A quick glance around the living area turned up nothing at all. Stepping toward the closed bedroom door at the back, she felt her pulse kick up into an anxious rhythm for no clear reason. Reaching out, she turned the handle slowly and eased the door open.

Everything inside her shattered at the scene on the bed. All the air left her lungs in a rush, forcing her to catch the doorframe just to stay upright.

“No! No, Dante...!” Tears spilled down her face as she shook her head in disbelief. “This can’t be happening!”

Right there in the center of the mattress, fully dressed, her husband was tangled up with another woman, kissing her deeply.

Startled by the cry, Dante broke away and whipped his head toward the doorway. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” he barked, fury hardening his voice.

“What am I doing here?” she echoed, her chest aching so badly she could barely get the words out. “That’s my question! What the hell are you doing in a hotel bed with another woman, Dante?!”

Storming across the carpet, she swung her arm and struck him hard across the cheek.

The impact caught Dante completely off guard. Plenty of nights he had come home wasted and gone out of his way to provoke her, hoping she would finally snap and file for divorce herself, yet she had always swallowed his temper in silence. Having her actually raise a hand to him left him momentarily stunned, bordering on dark amusement.

“How dare you go behind my back—” Cora’s voice cut off the instant a sharp, familiar shriek rang out from the mattress. Even though two whole years had passed since she last heard that voice, the sound sent a cold jolt straight down her spine. Only one person sounded like that—the childhood tormentor who had turned her life into a waking nightmare.

“How dare you lay a hand on him?!”

Up until that second, Cora had been so locked on Dante that she hadn't truly looked at the woman beneath him. Shifting her stare down to the bed left her completely petrified. Sprawled across the sheets with her husband was none other than her cousin Giselle—the exact same girl who used to torment and mock Dante for being overweight when they were kids.

How could the two of them possibly end up in bed together when Dante had despised Giselle growing up? Her mind went blank with shock before rage took over.

“What the hell is going on in here?!” Screaming at the top of her lungs, Cora lunged for the bed, tangled her fingers into Giselle’s hair, and yanked her toward the edge of the mattress. “You filthy slut, how dare you seduce my husband?!”

Giselle clawed wildly at Cora’s hands to free her scalp as Cora kept yanking harder. “Out of every man in the world, why did you have to come after my hus—”

*SMACK!*

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Dante snarled, yanking Giselle out of reach and tucking her against his side.

Cora clapped a trembling hand over her burning cheek as fresh tears spilled over her lashes. Slowly, she turned her head to look at the husband who had just struck her to defend her cousin.

“Y-you... hit me?” she whispered through shaking lips, staring up at him in disbelief. “Over her?”

Towering over her, Dante spoke through clenched teeth. “And I’ll fucking do it a second time if you ever lay a finger on her again. Don’t test me!”

Wrapping his arms around Giselle to pull her against his chest, he looked down as his entire demeanor softened. “Are you hurt?” he murmured gently.

Watching that tender look on his face tore right through Cora’s chest. Since the day they were six years old, Giselle had stolen every single thing Cora ever cared about—but she wasn't taking her husband, not without a fight.