Page 71 of Made for Sinners

His fingers tightened around his glass, his knuckles going white. “I was handling business.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Right. Business.”

Dante’s jaw ticked, his frustration evident. He opened his mouth, then closed it, exhaling sharply before taking a long sip of his wine.

I watched him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that would make this make sense.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he set his glass down with a quietclink, his fingers dragging through his dark hair.

“I should have told you sooner,” he admitted, his voice lower now, rougher.

I blinked, caught off guard by the admission.

Dante Conti didn’t apologize. Not really.

And yet, here he was, fumbling with his words, looking anywhere but at me.

I swallowed hard, my anger warring with something else—something I wasn’t ready to name.

“Why didn’t you?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

His jaw tightened. “Because I wasn’t sure.”

I frowned. “Sure of what?”

Dante exhaled, his fingers tapping against the table. “That I could trust you.”

The words hit like a slap.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my chest tightening. “You—” I shook my head, laughing bitterly. “You married me, Dante. And you didn’t even trust me?”

His gaze snapped to mine, dark and unreadable. “Trust isn’t given freely in my world,cara.”

Dante leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping idly against the stem of his wine glass. His dark eyes never left mine, watching, waiting.

"As I was saying," he murmured, voice smooth, deliberate. "I know you didn’t steal it."

The words settled between us, heavy and unshakable.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the stem of my own glass. "Then why did you treat me like I did?"

Dante’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Because I needed to be sure."

I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. "That’s not an answer."

"It’s the only one I have." His gaze darkened, his fingers flexing slightly. "You were the easiest suspect,cara. The money disappeared, and you had the most to gain. I had to consider every possibility."

I scoffed, setting my glass down with a little more force than necessary. "And now? Now you’re just suddenly convinced I didn’t do it?"

Dante’s smirk was humorless. "I’ve been watching you."

I stiffened. "Excuse me?"

"You don’t lie well, Emilia," he said, tilting his head slightly. "You’re too reactive. Too emotional. If you had taken the money, I would’ve seen it in your eyes the second I accused you."

I clenched my jaw, my pulse thrumming in my ears. "So what now? You just expect me to forget that you spent weeks treating me like a criminal?"

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