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You Chose Her, Now Watch Me Disappear Novel Cover

You Chose Her, Now Watch Me Disappear

On our fifth anniversary, my husband Dante gave me a unique gift: he burned my business to the ground. Why? Because a shopkeeper had been rude to Sofia, the fragile ward he swore to protect. While I waited in our penthouse, he was comforting her in front of the flames. But that was just the beginning. When I finally snapped and confronted Sofia for mocking our marriage, she cut her own arm and screamed for help. Dante didn't hesitate. He shot me. He put a bullet through my hand to save her. Then, to "discipline" me, he dragged me to the cellar and waterboarded me—using my deepest trauma against me—until I admitted to a crime I didn't commit. I endured it all, thinking he still loved me in his twisted way. Until the day we were ambushed at the docks. The enemy held a gun to my head and a knife to Sofia’s throat. "Choose," the gunman said. "The Queen or the Ward?" Dante looked at me. He calculated that I was strong enough to survive, but Sofia would break. "Let the girl go," he said. He watched as the gunman pulled the trigger on me. As I fell backward into the freezing ocean, bleeding from a chest wound, Dante screamed my name. He thought he had killed me. He didn't know I was wearing a Kevlar vest. He didn't know that while he was mourning his dead wife, I was already planning my escape. Dante Moretti thinks his Queen is dead. I intend to keep it that way.
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Chapter 8

Dante POV

She didn't scream when she fell.

That was the worst part. Sofia was screaming. My men were shouting. The gunfire was erupting around us. But Elena went into the water in total, damning silence.

"Elena!"

The scream tore out of my throat, raw and bloody.

I shoved Sofia aside so hard she hit the pavement. I sprinted to the edge of the dock.

The water was black. Oily. Churning.

There was nothing. No surfacing. No gasping for air.

"No," I said. "No, no, no."

I fumbled with my holster. I was going in. I had to go in.

"Boss! Get down!"

A heavy weight slammed into me from the side. Marco tackled me to the concrete just as bullets chewed up the spot where I had been standing.

"Let me go!" I roared, striking him. "She's in the water!"

"She's gone, Dante! Look at the water!" Marco shouted, pinning my arms. "She took a round to the chest! Point blank! She's gone!"

I looked. The surface was undisturbed, save for the indifferent ripples of the current.

Gone.

The word didn't make sense. Elena wasn't gone. Elena was permanent. She was the steel in the foundation of this house. She couldn't be gone.

I just... I just made a choice. A tactical choice.

I chose Sofia because Sofia is weak. Elena is a survivor. Elena always survives.

"Get him in the car!" Marco ordered.

Two more soldiers grabbed me. They dragged me away from the edge. I fought them. I kicked and clawed, desperate to get back to the black water.

"Elena!" I screamed her name until my voice broke.

They threw me into the back of the armored SUV. Sofia was already there, huddled in the corner, shaking.

"Oh my god, Dante," she sobbed. "He shot her. He just shot her."

I looked at her.

For the first time in five years, looking at Sofia Russo didn't make me feel protective. It made bile rise in my throat.

The car sped away, leaving the docks behind. Leaving my wife in the freezing dark.

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking.

I had saved the girl. I had kept my promise to Luca.

But as the distance between me and the water grew, a cold, terrifying realization settled in my gut.

I had saved the girl.

But I had killed the only thing that mattered.

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