by Katee Robert
She wanted to press, but the truth was that he was right. She didn’t have to understand it, not if she trusted Dante. And she did. Her mind could think of hundreds of reasons trusting him was a terrible idea, but her gut, her heart? They believed this man entirely. “What if Romeo kills you?”
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
He gave a brief smile and ducked under the spray, rinsing quickly. “Si, amata, I do. Romeo is too smart to throw away a potential tool. It’s simply a matter of convincing him I’m useful.”
“How—”
He gave her another quick kiss. “Trust me.”
She wanted a full explanation on what he planned, but the fact was she didn’t have time. Rose washed off quickly and followed him out of the shower to dry off. They dressed in silence, which was just as well because her mind whirled into dead end after dead end of how she was going to pull this off. Her parents wanted Dante dead. Anya wanted Dante dead, which was even more worrisome. Pitching this to them had to be done carefully, or they’d just override her and rush off to put a bullet between his beautiful eyes.
After braiding her wet hair away from her face, she turned to Dante. “Don’t die, d’yavol. I’m not done with you yet.”
He gave her a wolfish grin. “Not even hell could keep me from you, amata.” Dante kissed her, hard and brief. “Now go. Before I change my mind and drag you into bed.”
As tempting as that was, she needed to go home. They had to play this right if they wanted even the smallest chance of succeeding, and that meant being in her own bed when the rest of the Romanov house woke up. “Be safe.”
“You, too.”
Rose left the hotel room with her heart in her throat. Vasily waited out in the hallway, their hands clasped behind their back. They raised their eyebrows at her. “Getting late.”
“I know. Let’s hurry.”
They made it back home just as dawn had begun to break up the darkness of the sky. Late, but also far too early. She was in for a rough day after not sleeping, but she didn’t care. It was worth it. Now all she needed to do was figure out how to present to her parents that Dante could be an asset. He was on an individual level, of course. No one could argue that. But his connections and family made it complicated and mostly outweighed the good.
They’d find a way through.
What a novel thought. She wasn’t sure exactly when she started thinking of them as a team, and the very idea felt a little strange in her head, but she couldn’t deny how right it felt.
The first indication that something was wrong was the light on in the kitchen. She barely had time to brace herself when her father stepped out from the doorway. Rose glanced at Vasily, and they nodded and headed back into the garage. This was a family affair.
Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “Were you waiting in a dark doorway to step dramatically out into the light, Papa? Such theatrics are beneath you.”
He didn’t smile. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A bluff and not even a good one.
Papa nodded at the kitchen island. “Sit down.”
She didn’t know if it was a good thing that he hadn’t hauled her to his office for a lecture, but this felt worse somehow. She tried to tell herself she was a grown woman who didn’t have to answer to her father about where she’d been, but the defense rang flat and false. This wasn’t a normal situation, and Rose wasn’t a normal woman.
She sat.
He moved to the stove and put the kettle on. Maybe in other families this kind of conversation would call for a drink, but Mama had a history of alcoholism. It didn’t bother her anymore when people drank around her, but Papa still had a rule against having alcohol in the house to save her from having to deal with it. As a result, when things were about to get serious, he made tea.
She sat in silence while he pulled two mugs down and got to work making their tea. Peppermint for her. Ginger-turmeric for him. He took the seat next to her and blew gently on the steam curling up from his mug. “Your entire life, you have always put the family first, Roza. You’ve been a worthy heir.”
She couldn’t help a bitter laugh. “That hasn’t saved me from Jovan putting a target on my forehead.”
“There was always the chance it would come to this.” He didn’t look at her. “It’s going to get ugly. We might lose people. We need every ally in our corner we can manage, and that means bringing the other Romanov branches over to our side.”
She knew he was right, but she couldn’t help arguing. “They’re in Texas, California, and Washington. They might as well be in Russia for all they can help.”
“And yet Russia is where the threat lies.” He picked up his mug. “If they offer Jovan’s people a stateside base of operations, it will make a difference, Roza. It might make the difference. We cannot afford to alienate any of them now.” He finally looked at her. “What you are doing with Dante Verducci will alienate Kirill. It might be enough for him to do more than be a passive spectator in the coming conflict. We cannot afford to have that happen.”
“Papa—”
“I’m not finished.” He didn’t raise his voice, but ice frosted his tone. “In addition to potentially causing problems with our American extended family, there is also your sister and the Capparelli family to consider. If Romeo discovers where you were tonight, who you were with, he may very well go forward with a war declaration. Should that happen, Lorelei will bear the cost.”
The thought made her sick to her stomach. Lorelei was already bearing the cost, but Papa was right; if they went to war, there would be nothing protecting her from her new husband. They’d have no recourse if he harmed her—if he…killed her.
In the face of that, Dante’s reassurances that they would find a way through felt flat. How could they, when so much was stacked against them? She cupped her hands around her mug, letting the heat battle the chill taking root in her chest. “There has to be a way.”
“Roza…” Papa sighed. “I can understand the draw. He’s dangerous and obviously focused intensely on you. There’s a thrill that comes from being on the same level as someone who is your match.”
Like Papa and Mama.
She stared down at her tea, the feeling in her chest getting worse. “It doesn’t really matter if I’m drawn to him or not, does it? Because the circumstances won’t allow for us to be together. You won’t allow us to be together.”
“I’m sorry.” He actually sounded like he meant it. Papa clasped her shoulder. “We talk about the sacrifices one makes for family with a sense of glamor, but it doesn’t mean they’re a pleasant experience.”
She wanted to yell at him, to rail about how unfair this was. Papa had broken all the rules time and time again in his pursuit of Mama when they were younger. He hadn’t given a fuck if he entered into a war with everyone in his path because he wanted her and meant to have her.
Things were different back then, though. There was only one Romanov in New York, so he had little to lose beyond his life. Now, if there were a war, the casualty list could be their entire family. Her parents. Her sisters. Her people.
She closed her eyes. “I understand.”
Rose left her father drinking tea in the kitchen and retreated to her bedroom. There was no solace to be found within those four walls. She paced back and forth, her father’s word warring with her aunt’s.
The smart thing to do was to cut things off with Dante. When she laid the facts down and took emotions out of the picture, the only rational way forward was without him. That was the problem, though. There was nothing rational about her connection with this man. There hadn’t been from the start.
An hour later, she had no more answers. She kept going around and around, treading water until it felt like she might drown. Rose closed her eyes. She owed him a conversation, at least. Even if it was only to say goodbye.
Chapter 23
Dante was almost asleep when his phone
rang. He picked it up and stared a long moment at the familiar number on the screen. Rose. There was no good reason for her to be calling now, and a whole list of bad ones. He finally answered. “Si?”
“My father knows.”
He closed his eyes and lay back on the bed. She wasn’t the easiest to read in person and over the phone her blank tone could mean anything and nothing. “Are you calling to cut things off, amata?”
“I should.” Her voice wavered a little. “It’s beyond selfish to continue to pursue things with you. My family will be the ones to pay the cost.”
Dante rubbed his temple, thinking fast. Dmitri would have laid out irrefutable facts and he would have struck right to the heart of his daughter’s fears. “Tell me what he said.”
She drew in shuddering breath. “We need all the allies we can get. Choosing you means alienating Romeo, which will put my sister in direct danger. It also means alienating Kirill, which could lead to him allowing Jovan’s people a foothold in the states. We can’t afford to be divided right now. Jovan will slaughter us if we are.”
“Matteo will take care of Kirill.”
“You can’t know that.”
He stared to argue, but the truth was that she didn’t know his cousin. She only had his word things would be resolved. His word should be good enough, but with the stakes so high, he couldn’t blame her for the doubt. There was only one way to alleviate it. “I’ll return to LA and deal with Kirill.”
“Dante.”
He muscled down his irritation at the sharp way she said his name. “I’m not going to kill him, Rosa. He’s a pain in the ass and he’s committed plenty of acts against my people, but I will pursue a peaceful arrangement. For you.”
She gave a sad little laugh. “Kirill hates the Verduccis. You can’t—”
“Rose.” He sat up. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. I’ll burn this entire fucking world to the ground, Kirill, Romeo, and Jovan with it, if it means being with you. There are no lengths I won’t go to, and that includes making peace with that old bastard. Do you understand me?”
“Just like that.”
“Si, just like that.” She wanted him to find a way. She wouldn’t be calling like this if she didn’t. “Give me time.”
She was silent for a very long time, but Dante would wait for days if that was what it took. He hadn’t come this far to be deterred by a few road bumps, no matter how extreme Rose found them. Finally, she said, “Is there anything that would make you turn away from me, Dante?”
“No.”
“Such a quick answer.”
He shrugged even though she couldn’t see it. “There’s nothing to consider. You’re mine. I’m yours. No one else will do, amata. I’ve told you that from the beginning.”
She inhaled slowly. “Yeah, I guess you have.” Rustling on her end. When she spoke, her voice sounded firmer, more resolute. “Go back to LA and secure peace with Kirill and your family. I’ll deal with Romeo.”
A shot of pure adrenaline bolted through him. “No.”
“Da. We don’t have time for you to deal with both, and frankly, I have a better chance of bringing Romeo around to seeing things our way than you do.”
How? What lengths will you go to?
He didn’t ask. If she was willing to trust him in this, he could only do the same. Still… “If he lays one finger on you, I’ll take a page out of your book and skin him alive.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice warmed and he could almost see her smile. “Stay safe, d’yavol.”
“You too, amata. I’ll see you in a few days.” He paused. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She hung up before he fully registered that she’d returned the words.
Dante played them back in his head several times. Close. They were so close to the future he wanted. He wouldn’t allow anything to get in his way. He dialed his cousin.
“Si.” For once, Matteo sounded cold and serious.
“Change of plans. I’m coming back. We need Kirill.”
“I’ll set up a meeting.”
Dante paused. That had been easy. Too easy. “What about Lorenzo?”
“My father is no longer in the picture.”
Thank fuck. Another sentiment he kept internal. Matteo’s relationship with his father was none of Dante’s fucking business, but he imagined it must have been difficult to kill the old man. “Condolences.”
Matteo snorted. “Don’t go getting soft on me now, Dante. I have a meeting with Kirill tomorrow morning. If you can get back by then, you can attend.”
“I’ll be there.” He was already moving as he hung up, tossing his stuff back into his suitcase. It took five minutes to book a flight and another two to schedule a ride. He met the car at the curb and started the long journey back to the West Coast.
Through it all, Dante thought about Rose and Romeo. The Capparelli wouldn’t harm her. He was reasonably sure of that. The man had already married Rose’s little sister, so he doubted he’d attempt to reverse that arrangement. But there were a thousand things that could go wrong…
He sighed. Either he trusted his woman, or he didn’t. She was more than a match for some fucking Capparelli, and he couldn’t focus properly on Kirill if he was distracted wondering what the fuck she was up to. She was trusting him to do this, was putting her faith in him, and he’d be damned before he fucked it up.
Dante barely had time to shower and change before Matteo was banging on his bedroom door. He opened to it find his cousin dressed to the nines. He’d always favored expensive clothes, but there was a different aura about him now. Dante narrowed his eyes. “Long live the king.”
Matteo’s icy expression thawed, showing a hint of concern. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? You’re ready to be excommunicated for this woman.”
“For my woman. Si. Use that as a bargaining chip to secure Kirill’s agreement not to host the Russian Romanovs while they’re in conflict with the New York branch.”
Matteo went to drag his hand through his hair, but stopped before he made contact. “There’s no going back if you take that step. It doesn’t matter if she dumps your ass. Once you’re struck from our line, that’s it.”
“I know.”
Matteo searched his face. “You’re not going to change your mind.”
“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “This is the right play, and you know it. Remove your father, remove his junkyard dog. Establish your own people.”
“You are my people.”
“Si, and I always will be. But the Verducci family has done nothing for me. Losing it is no loss.” He held his cousin’s gaze. This conversation only had one destination and they both knew it. Matteo didn’t even truly want Dante back. He knew the truth, but for once he was letting his emotions override his reason. “You don’t need me anymore.”
“You’re my fucking cousin, Dante. Like a brother to me. Don’t tell me what I do or don’t need.” He spun on his heel, took three steps, and spun back. “Change your mind. Find another woman or man or whoever. Be my righthand man.”
Dante shook his head slowly. “No. The decision’s been made.”
“Ah well.” Matteo’s shoulders slumped, but he smiled. “It was worth a shot.”
He smiled in response. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age.”
“Si, si, call it what you want.” His cousin looked away. “It’s time to go.”
“Let’s not keep the Russian waiting.”
They met Kirill at a little diner situated on the border between their territories. The parking lot was full of both Verducci people and Romanov people, all bristling with attitude and enough guns to start a small war. Dante and Matteo ignored them, taking the steps up to the door with the faded Open sign and into the building.
It looked just like one would expect of a diner. Black and white checkered floors. Black vinyl booths. A bar running down the length of it with stools on the customer side and a griddle on the other
side. The entire place was empty, except for an old Black woman who ran the diner, Evelyn. She gave him and Matteo a long look. “I don’t want any funny business.”
“No, ma’am.” Matteo gave her his best charming smile. “We’re just here for a chat.”
She shook her head. “Don’t try that with me, Matty. I’ve known you since you were six, so I know better. Go sit down and be polite. I’ll get the coffee.”
They made their way to the only occupied booth back in the corner, out of the way of any windows. Kirill sat hunched over a steaming cup of coffee, his age-spotted hands curled around the mug. His hair had been silver as long as Dante had known him, and it had thinned over the years. He looked like exactly what he was, an old white man well into his twilight years.
He sat back as Matteo and Dante slid into the seat across from him. “Condolences on your father’s death.” His accent was thick and voice low. He smiled slowly. “Or should I be congratulating the new head of the Verducci family?”
His cousin tensed, but kept his easy smile in place. “My father and you never managed to see eye to eye.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Kirill sipped his coffee and studied them both. He might be as old as dirt, but the years hadn’t dimmed the intelligence in those dark eyes. “So, what will your first play be? Strong move indicates a strong leader. Can’t afford to fuck around.”
“Si.” Matteo shrugged. “That’s why we’re here. I have a proposal for you.”
“I’m already married, pup.”
Matteo didn’t smile. “I’m interested in putting things to rest and fostering peace between our families.”
Kirill cocked his head to the side. “Peace.”
“Si.” Matteo glanced at Dante and then refocused on the Russian. “You’re an old man, Kirill. Leave the bullshit territory wars and pissing contests to the young and untried…and those on the East Coast.”
“Ah.” He laughed. “This is about Jovan’s people.” He turned and looked directly at Dante for the first time since he’d sat down. “You’re lucky I value my word enough not to shoot you right here for that stunt you pulled with my niece.”