by Laura Sutton
“I don’t know, Samantha, that’s really up to my brother,” he answered, taking another bite of his eggs.
“Have you spoken to Eli?” she asked. Her stomach started to churn at the mention of his name and she thought she might have a touch of the can’t-eat-when-upset waif in her yet.
“Yes, last night, not long after you boarded my jet. He called your phone quite frantic.” Dante chuckled lightly, as if Eli’s desperate were amusing, and Sam’s dislike for him hardened into something uglier.
“And?” she asked.
Dante just shrugged. “And he agreed to help with our father’s appeal, as long as I didn’t hurt you. My brother seems very… attached to you.” His tone indicated puzzlement, as if he couldn’t understand wanting to keep another person safe.
“Eli is a decent man. He would be worried about anyone being kidnapped,” she told him, downplaying her importance. Dante didn’t need any more ammunition against his brother than he already had.
Dante laughed. “Oh, sweetheart, Elias isn’t that decent a man, trust me. He’s a di Ruggiero, just like me. He’s worried because you’re his.” Dante’s eyes raked over her form and suddenly Sam felt very exposed. “And I can see why.” He licked his lips and Sam’s head snapped back, like he had struck her.
“You know, Samantha, I can give you far more than Elias ever could,” he purred, reaching to caress her cheek.
“Don’t touch me,” Sam snarled and slapped his hand away. Dante only laughed and leaned back into his chair, surveying her with cool humor.
“Oh, yes, I see now why my brother is so taken with you. A beauty with sharp teeth… the kind of woman who is a pleasure to possess.”
“I am not Eli’s possession,” she snapped, disgusted at the idea of being owned. Dante held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Of course you’re not, and my brother is probably too weak to be the kind of man you need, but if you change your mind…” Dante winked, and it took every bit of Sam’s self-control not to slap the smug look off of his face.
“I won’t.” she told him, her voice low and dangerous. “Ever.”
Dante cocked his head and studied her for a bit. “You know what? That, I believe.” There was finally something like respect in his eyes as he sipped his coffee.
“I could speak to your father’s lawyers and start working on the case, while waiting for Eli,” Sam ventured, taking another bite of her food. Her stomach was still roiling, but she needed her strength for whatever she faced in the near future.
“Hmmm, just because Eli trusts you doesn’t mean I do, Samantha,” Dante answered without looking up from where he was stabbing a strawberry with his fork
“You may not trust me, but I just got murder charges dropped for our client in what some were calling the case of the century.” She set down her fork and looked at Dante until his cool gaze met hers.
“I thought that was Eli’s case?” he commented with more than a touch of condescension.
“My case, too,” she replied. “I was the one that found the information we needed to get the charges vacated– not Eli, not our boss. Me. I’ve read up on your father’s case, as soon as Eli told me who he was. It won’t be easy to find anything that will help get your father a new trial, but if anyone can find it, it’s me. You need me, Dante, whether you realize it or not.”
Dante studied her. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he must’ve found it, because he nodded imperceptibly.
“What do you get out of it? Your name in the papers?”
Sam huffed a soft laugh. As if that had ever been her motivation… she shook her head. “Eli’s freedom from you.”
Dante smiled, but there was nothing warm in his expression. “That’s what Elias demanded– well, not his freedom, but your safety.” Dante finished his coffee and set the cup on its saucer. “I will tell you what I told him: when you get my father out, or all of his appeals are exhausted, I will never ask another thing from him… or you. You have my word.”
Dante stood.
“I’ll make the arrangements for you to be brought up to speed by the attorneys. Also, please do speak to Sandra and let her get you whatever you need for your stay here.”
Sam nodded and watched as Dante disappeared from the room. She had her work cut out for her; she hadn’t lied, when she said she had done research on their father’s case, and it was as airtight as one got. It didn’t matter, though; she would find the answer. She would get a man guilty of murder out of prison. She would do it for Eli, for Eli and their future.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eli
After a four-hour layover in Atlanta, Eli finally landed in Dallas. He was exhausted, angry and desperate to get to Sam and see for himself that she was okay.
He stepped out into the chaotic mass of people that was the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, his carryon over his shoulder. He reached for his phone to call a car when he heard his name being called.
“Eli!” he turned and saw him: his little brother, the one who had still been a kid in high school the last time he'd seen him at their mother’s funeral, and despite the terror and worry, he smiled.
“Matty!” he called and pushed through the throng of people until he could pull the younger man into a hug.
“Hey, big brother. You look like shit,” Matteo quipped when he pulled out of Eli’s hug.
“I feel like shit. Very pissed-off shit, Matty,” he said.
Matteo winced. “Please don’t call me that. It’s Matt or Matteo– I’m not a kid anymore, Eli.”
Eli nodded and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “No, I guess not. You finish college?”
Matt shrugged. “Yeah, by the skin of my teeth,” he said. “If they had let me major in keg stands, tequila shots, and hot girls, I woulda been top of my class.”
Eli chuckled, following Matt to a very expensive, very flashy black sports car– one Eli knew a twenty-one-year-old recent college graduate couldn’t afford, but which the brother of Dante di Ruggiero could.
“What are your plans now?” Eli asked as he settled into the passenger seat.
“I’m gonna start managing a couple of the clubs for Dante. Not Aphrodite’s, of course, but two of the other ones here in Dallas,” Matt said as he gunned the engine into life. They zipped out of the airport parking lot and onto the congested Dallas freeway.
Dallas hadn’t changed much in the year and half Eli had been gone. It was still crowded and busy, and still didn’t feel like home, not the way Alexandria did. But Alexandria had Sam, and Eli was coming to see that ‘home’ would be wherever Sam was.
“So I hear you met a girl,” Matt said, grinning, but Eli didn’t smile back.
“I did, and if Dante has hurt one hair on her head, I will kill him, Matteo. I mean it,” Eli growled.
“I haven’t seen her, man, I was just told to come pick you up and take you to Dante’s.” There was a crease of concern between his thick black eyebrows as he shot his brother a glance. “I doubt he would hurt her, Eli. You know Dante. He doesn’t do anything without a reason, and he wants your help, not your anger.”
Eli nodded and leaned back into the soft leather of the seat and closed his eyes. Matt was right, Dante wouldn’t hurt Sam– not yet, not while he still needed something from Eli.
Eli just hoped he could do what Dante wanted.
“Hey, bro, we’re here.” Matt shook him awake. They were parked in the garage attached to the luxury apartment complex Dante lived in. Eli had only been here a few times before he started to distance himself from the family and eventually moved away.
“Thanks for the ride,” Eli said as he grabbed his bag and got out of the car, and was surprised to see Matt exit the car, as well. Eli lifted his eyebrow at his little brother in silent question.
“Oh, no. I’m not gonna leave without meeting the woman who stole your heart before you two disappear into the sunset and leave us all behind,” Matt teased and Eli slung his arm over his little brother’s not-
so-little shoulders.
“You know, you could leave the family, too,” Eli told him and Matt shrugged.
“I guess, but I don’t have any real desire to, man. I like this life. Well, I enjoy the luxuries being a di Ruggiero gives me. So many sexy girls.”
Eli shoved his brother playfully into the elevator when it dinged. Matt entered a code into the keypad that would take them to Dante’s penthouse.
“Yeah, yeah, just know if you need me, all you have to do is call,” Eli told him seriously and Matt nodded.
When the elevator doors opened to Dante’s penthouse, it was like taking a step back in time. It was exactly the same as it had been five years ago, when Eli told Dante he wouldn’t be the family’s personal lawyer. Dante laughed, hadn’t believed him, but Eli eventually made good on his promise and left. Now he was back, walking on the ruinously expensive marble floors that had been imported from Italy. Only the best for Dante di Ruggiero.
Eli took two steps into the apartment, and then he saw her. Sam had taken over Dante’s huge dining room table, covering it with boxes and folders and loose papers. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face as she pored over a file, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she read. Relief made him lightheaded; he’d harbored a terror the entire trip to Dallas that he’d arrive and find he’d been too late to protect her.
“Sam,” he said, his voice hoarse with the emotions he was trying to keep under control. She turned, her gray eyes finding his, and then he was pulling her out of the chair and she was in his arms and he was kissing her, kissing her, kissing her.
When he finally pulled away, they were both panting, but Sam’s eyes were shining, plainly relieved to see him, and the terror melted away. She was fine, they were together. They could handle anything.
“Are you alright?” he asked, cupping her face in hands.
She smiled and nodded. “I’m fine. Are you okay?” She kissed the palm of his hand.
“I am, now that I’m here with you,” he breathed out and kissed her again, slow and deep, then pulled her close until Matt cleared his throat. Eli huffed a laugh and untangled himself from her.
“Sam, meet my youngest brother, Matteo, but we call him Matt.” Eli wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist and turned so Sam could shake Matt’s hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Samantha, but please call me Sam.”
Matt grinned and took Sam’s hand and then winked at Eli, who glowered at his little brother, daring him to say anything dumb. Thankfully, he didn’t.
“What’s all of this, bimba?” Eli asked, gesturing to the table.
“Oh that’s–”
“Your girlfriend convinced me that she could help you with father’s appeal,” Dante said, striding into the room from his office.
“Absolutely not.” Eli turned back to Sam, incredulous. For all that he’d thought about having her as second chair on the case, his fear for her outweighed anything else. Now that he was confronted by the reality of it, all he wanted was for her to be safe and sound at home, even if it meant he wouldn’t be there with her. “You are going back to Alexandria.”
Sam shook her head. “No, I’m not. You need me, Eli. I’m going to help you.”
“No, it’s too dangerous! I will not have you here, where–”
Dante started to laugh.
“Elias, do you really think you have any control over this situation?” his elder brother drawled
It took all of Eli’s willpower not to hit his smug face. As much as he’d wanted out of this cluster-fuck of a family, he had never harbored any ill will towards his brother, but at that moment he was perfectly capable of killing him.
...that was, until Sam stepped between the two of them.
“Oh, stop it! Both of you!” she shouted, her arms forming a barrier in the middle. “Eli, you don’t get to order me around, any more than he does. I’m staying, and I’m going to help you figure out how to get your father out on appeal, and then you…”
She turned to Dante and pointed at him.
“You are going to keep your word. That’s supposed to mean something in your world, correct?” she asked, a lash of contempt in her voice, staring down a man that could order her murder by nightfall. His girl was fearless, and it scared the holy hell out of Eli.
“My word does mean something, Samantha, and if you two do what I want, you will never have to worry about me again,” Dante promised and Sam nodded in satisfaction.
Fear, cold and sharp rippled through Eli, knowing she just made a deal with the devil. But wasn’t it the same deal he had made? And really, what could they do? If they ever wanted to be free of his family and this life, they would have to do what Dante demanded.
“Have you found anything yet?” Eli said as he turned to Sam, whose eyes clouded immediately.
“Nothing,” she said, but as he watched, her famous resolve shined through the apprehension. “Yet.”
“Well,” Eli said, shrugging out of his suit jacket and tamping down his worry, “I’d better start helping.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Samantha
A week went by. Their world had narrowed to nothing but Eli’s father’s case. They pored over every trial note, every document and motion, and found nothing that would get Luciano’s conviction overturned on appeal. Sam was reading through the witness interview for a third time when Eli threw a heavy law book across the dining room of Dante’s apartment.
“Fuck!” he shouted, and slumped back into his chair, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration.
“What’s the matter?” Sam quietly asked, but she knew what was wrong. The fact was that Eli’s father had killed his wife’s murderer, and his imprisonment was absolutely the right and best outcome for the case. Dante might not want to accept that, but it was.
“This is pointless,” he groaned miserably.
The first hearing, to determine if an appeal was even possible, was the following week. They needed to find something before then, something that would at least get Luciano granted a new trial. It probably was pointless, but she refused to give up. They had seven days to find something, anything. If they didn’t, then they’d have to wait a year until they could apply again, and Sam didn’t want that. She didn’t want to live with the uncertainty, the fear of still being tied to this family. She wanted to make sure Eli was free, completely, to live his life. Hopefully, with her.
“Giving up already, little brother?” Dante asked snidely, leaning his hip against the bar that separated his dining room from his massive kitchen.
“Fuck off,” Eli answered and reached for another folder.
They did this at least once a day: Dante would come into the room and sniff around and pick at Eli, two dogs circling the same bone. They would snarl and snip and stalk away, but she could see the tension building in Eli, feel it in his arms when he held her at night. She feared the day Dante would say the wrong thing and set Eli off. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold him back, the next time.
Dante moved behind them, and she could feel him reading over her shoulder. His nearness made her uneasy, as always, but she bit it back.
“Why are you reading that witness interview again?” Dante asked and Sam shrugged.
“There were only two witnesses: the bartender, and the other man. The bartender saw your father enter, but then admitted to being in the alley, signing for a beer delivery, when he heard shots. The delivery man verified that. The other guy, he saw your father leave the bar, and the gun. It’s all too perfect for my liking.”
“What do you mean?” Dante sat in the chair next to her and Sam pushed her reading glasses up into her already messy hair, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her brain felt like mush after going over and over the same documents so many times.
“Well, for one thing he had no reason to be in that part of town during that time of day. He was a paid informant for one of the detectives on the case. that’s pretty convenient, don’t you think? Secondly, he said he was across
the street and that he saw the gun in the waistband of your dad’s pants, but there was a thunderstorm that afternoon, so bad that flooding actually delayed the ambulance for a full thirteen minutes, according to 911 transcripts.”
She paused for dramatic effect.
“So how did he not only see a gun, but also identify it down to the brand and caliber… from a distance of thirty-five feet, in pouring rain?”
Dante stroked his chin thoughtfully at her analysis.
“I also don’t like how none of these questions were asked by your father’s defense attorney when this witness was on the stand,” Sam added with a shrug and sipped from her now-cold coffee. It was nearly lunchtime and she and Eli had been working since just after 7am.
“Should they have been asked?” Dante murmured, and pulled the folder she had pushed away toward himself.
“Uh, yes,” Sam answered hotly, afire with righteous indignation against shoddily done advocacy. “Any decent attorney would have.” Eli nodded his agreement, looking amused.
“I hate that detective,” Dante muttered.
“You know him?”
“Yeah, he’s been a thorn in our side since he was a beat cop and his cousin or sister worked at Aphrodite’s Palace. Nonno would talk about how he constantly tried to shut the club down. I wasn’t surprised when he jumped at the chance to put Papa away.”
Sam nodded, her brain mulling over the information. Something was off about that witness and the lawyers’ cross-examination of him.
“Are you using the same firm for the appeal?” Sam asked.
Dante shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t handle it. Bad PR, they said.”
“Hmmm,” Sam said, her mind working overtime.
“What are you thinking, bimba?” Eli asked, and she sighed.
“I don’t– it’s kinda far out there,” she hedged and stood, starting to pace as she put together small things.