by Bella J.
“It’s not pity. I just totally get why you’re an asshole now.”
Antonio snickered, and I scowled at Lorik. “The reason you’re here is…?”
“I got that call traced for you.”
“Already?”
“What can I say? I’m fast.”
I lifted a brow. “Ooh, and what does your giant-sized Albanian cock think about that?”
Antonio snorted, and Lorik glared at me. “So not funny. But I will tell you what’s funny. That phone call is coming from the Mancuso mansion.”
Immediately, the banter ceased, and Antonio stepped closer while I straightened in my seat. “The Mancuso mansion?”
“Yeah. Well, it’s either there or really fucking close by.”
Antonio looked at me, and my mind reeled in a thousand different directions. “That’s impossible, then.”
Lorik seemed confused. “What’s impossible?”
“Well, it couldn’t have been Layla. She hasn’t been back in town ever since she left. It can’t be her I heard over the phone.”
“What are the chances that she might be back?”
I pulled a hand through my hair. “None. Besides, I have eyes and ears everywhere, just in case. If she was back in town, I would have known.”
Antonio tapped his finger on the bar. “Between you and me, brother, it’s really weird that you still have people keeping an eye out for her after all these fucking years.”
“Between you and me, brother,” I tilted my glass in his direction, “it’s none of your fucking business, anyway.”
“Okay, okay. Girls, you’re both pretty.” Lorik reached in his pocket and slid a new cell phone over the counter toward me.
I lifted a brow in question.
“It’s your new phone.” He held out his hand. “I need your old one so I can get rid of it. Security is a big thing around here, as you very well know.”
With a sigh, and Antonio’s continued tapping on the counter annoying the fuck out of me, I handed my old phone to Lorik.
“Great.” He got up and tucked the phone in his pocket. “I’ll see you two ladies tonight. I hear we’re having a bachelor party.” He winked and left Antonio and me openmouthed. Asshole was sly as fuck. I could see why Dad insisted Lorik handle most of the security around here. Nothing got by him.
Antonio shook his head. “I’ll see you later.”
I watched as Antonio walked out, and then I emptied my glass. It was working, the alcohol. It was making the memories easier to bear. But it did nothing to fade the image of her face. It also didn’t help jack-shit to ease the longing. Layla had always been the one, which was why I never even attempted a relationship with another woman. I fucked, and I made sure whoever was at the receiving end knew there was no chance of it being anything more.
I sighed then glanced at my wristwatch. It was going to be a long-ass day.
Chapter 4
Dante
Somehow, I was no longer in the mood for a night out. Just this morning I was all up Antonio’s ass about a bachelor party for Lorik, but ever since that goddamn phone call, I was unable to tear my mind away from her.
The woman who ruined me.
The woman who destroyed the man I once was.
And after hearing a voice that was either hers or sounded a lot like hers, the memories felt like it all took place just yesterday. I had been walking around the whole goddamn day as if I was waiting for a fucking bomb to go off.
“You warned Karina, right?” Lorik touched my shoulder from the back seat. “Because if you didn’t, I am going to be in a fuck-load of trouble when I get home smelling like bourbon and unable to piss straight.”
I laughed. “Where’s the fun in that? I love hearing my sister swear at you in Italian. The look on your face is fucking priceless.”
He snorted. “Yeah, well, I’d like to see you try to keep a straight face when the woman you’re about to marry—who also happens to be the owner of the only pussy you will ever get for the rest of your life—gets angry at you and starts shouting in a language you can’t understand, yet you know she’s pissed at you. How the fuck am I supposed to know what to say when I don’t know what the fuck she’s saying?”
Antonio and I started laughing. Karina might be sweet, but she had Italian blood running through her veins, and when Italian women got angry, men tended to wish for the world to come to an end.
I parked my Audi in the underground parking—our usual spot. When you financed the owner’s illegal gambling setup, you earned guaranteed VIP treatment.
As we approached the back door, the bouncer opened it, allowing us through, no questions asked. God, I loved this life. I couldn’t believe there was a time when I wanted something different. Who wouldn’t want to be treated like a goddamn prince?
Antonio nodded toward the bouncer in greeting, but naturally Lorik had to do the whole fist-bump maneuver.
“Tim, my man.”
“Detective Stone.”
Lorik held up his hand, showcasing the wolf tattoo. “Not a detective anymore, Tim. I’m a wolf now.” He smiled like an idiot.
I rolled my eyes then grabbed him behind his neck, dragging him down the hall. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a dumbass?”
“Pfffft, never.”
Once we stepped inside the club, I felt a little of the tension ease out of my shoulders. The music, the people, the smell of sex and alcohol made me think of the here and now rather than the past or the fucking future. All that mattered was now—the present. Tomorrow would deal with the aftermath of the decisions which were made today.
Antonio took the lead with me short on his heel, while Lorik walked next to me. All eyes were on us—especially the women’s. It happened whenever we entered a goddamn room. Why? Because in this city we were fucking royalty. Everyone knew not to fuck with us.
The second we walked up to the second floor reserved for VIP guests, a waitress dressed in nothing but a black mini skirt and glitter nipple patches greeted us.
“Can I get you gentlemen something to drink?” Her eyes met mine, and memories of her naked body pressed up against the wall of the men’s room flashed through my mind. By the way she bit her bottom lip, I knew she was thinking of it too.
Antonio unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Three bourbons on the rocks, and a round of tequila.”
Lorik smiled. “This is going to be one hell of a night, gentlemen. I can feel it all the way down my fucking spine.”
The waitress brought our drinks, and we took a seat close to the glass barrier, wanting the view of the dancefloor below.
Antonio leaned back in his seat. “Anyone else been wondering about the weird phone call today?”
“Oh, come on,” Lorik complained. “Could you please pull that motherfucking stick out of your ass for one night? Just one goddamn night?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Yes, the weird fucking phone call had been on my mind, but trust Antonio to bring it up at the start of what was supposed to be a fun night.
“I’m with Lorik on this one, brother. We can go one night without discussing such matters.”
Antonio shrugged, forfeiting his attempt to talk business. It was typical of him, always thinking business, and never making time for anything but that. Sometimes I got the feeling it was physically painful for him to have fun and to enjoy a good night out. I, on the other hand, had that down to a T, since even though there was that weird as fuck phone call, I could easily push it to the back of my mind. Tomorrow would be a good time to start fretting over it again.
I turned to Lorik, wanting to change the subject. “Still excited to be a part of the family?”
He rubbed tiny circles over the wolf tattoo on the top of his hand. “Best thing that ever happened to me.” He looked up at us. “Your sister, I mean. Not you two dildos. Fuck knows, my grandmother’s urn is more fun than you two.”
Antonio laughed then stood and walked to the glass barrier and stared out over the club. I rubbed the stubble on my
chin with my thumb and forefinger, and Lorik ordered another round of tequila.
“Dante?”
I looked up at Antonio, who stood with his back toward me. “Yeah?”
“How sure are you it couldn’t have been Layla who phoned you from the other side of town?”
“Believe me, I’m sure.”
Antonio kept staring down to the dancefloor. “I think you need to come see this, little brother.”
“What is it?” I got up and sauntered over to the barrier.
Antonio pointed to the entrance, where I saw Matteo—the new Mancuso underboss since Lorik put a bullet in his brother’s chest. He looked every ounce the asshole we all knew he was. Not even a thousand-dollar suit could make him look like more than an ugly motherfucker. What annoyed me the most about him and his entire fucking family was how they walked around town like they owned it. They lived as if they had the world at their feet. Meanwhile, they didn’t have shit. If it wasn’t for the poison they were passing around on the streets like fucking candy, they wouldn’t even have a pot to piss in.
I took a sip of my drink, the tension slowly creeping back up my shoulders. “It’s Mancuso. We knew he might turn up here. What’s the deal?”
Antonio kept staring down at the crowd who walked in with Matteo, worry lines forming grooves on his forehead.
“Antonio, what the fuck, man?”
Without saying a word, he lifted his arm and pointed down toward Matteo. My gaze followed—searching, watching, and then…her.
The moment I saw her face, it felt like every drop of blood drained out of my body. Ice spread down my spine, and the glass slipped out of my hand and shattered on the ground by my feet.
“Layla,” I whispered. “Jesus Christ.”
It was her.
Layla Moore.
The woman who left after she stole the best of me.
I was frozen on the spot, staring down at her. My mind couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing.
Layla-fucking-Moore, in the flesh. And, dear God, she looked exactly as I remembered. The longer I stared at her, the more my heart pounded against my ribs as if it was trying to break through my chest. It felt like my heart knew…it fucking knew the woman who stood there in the ruby red dress, golden blonde hair tied up to expose her neck, was its rightful owner. It was exhilarating, yet painful at the same time, to see her again.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even fucking move. Memories. Words. Moments. Everything I shared with Layla came rushing back like a motherfucking tropical storm, and it would have knocked me off my feet if I weren’t gripping the rail in front of me so damn tight.
In the distance, I heard Lorik’s voice saying something about tequila and tits. I heard Antonio mention Layla’s name, and then Lorik stepped in next to me just as Matteo placed his hand on Layla’s shoulder, fingers brushing against her bare neck.
“Well, fuck,” Lorik muttered right when everything around me turned to shades of red.
The longer Matteo’s fingers lingered on her skin, the darker my vision became. I had no idea what the fuck was happening. It felt like I was in an alternate universe, as if everything around me went on mute, people moving in slow motion. Even Matteo’s goddamn fingers on Layla’s neck moved in long, slow, torturing strokes. My heart no longer tried to break through my chest. Instead it was the beast in me who tried to claw its way out. It wanted to kill. It wanted to slaughter. It wanted to butcher every motherfucker who stood in a ten foot radius of her.
“Dante,” Antonio said beside me, but I ignored him. “Dante. I think we should leave.”
I couldn’t tear my gaze from her, from the way Matteo touched her.
Five years. Five fucking years, and it felt like no time had passed. As if the woman who stood right there still belonged to me. As if she never broke my heart. Never left.
“Dante?” Antonio placed his hand on my shoulder, but I jerked away. “Brother, you need to calm down, and we need to leave.”
Lorik held the shot of tequila out to me. “I suggest some tequila to tame the urge to go on a murderous rampage right about now.”
I took the tequila and tossed it back before throwing the glass to the ground. “I am calm.”
Lorik stared down at the broken glass. “Yeah…yeah, I see that.”
I remained still, my gaze glued to the one and only woman I had ever loved. And no matter how she hurt me, how those words on that goddamn letter ripped my heart out, the way Matteo touched her made me want to tear him the fuck apart.
Questions that should have been running through my mind…didn’t. Questions like why was she back? Why did she leave? Why was she here with Matteo? Those were questions with answers that fucking mattered, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck. All I cared about…was her.
“This is not good, man,” Lorik said beside me.
Antonio touched my shoulder again, and that was the exact moment Layla looked up, her gaze meeting mine. That was also the moment my entire world came crashing down around me. Every bone in my body ached, my lungs unable to expand because I forgot to fucking breathe. Moments, seconds, minutes, hours. A week could have gone by, and I wouldn’t have noticed because all I concerned myself with was staring at her, to not take my eyes off her in case all of this wasn’t real.
But then Matteo’s hand dropped from her neck, his knuckles dragging down her arm. The movement caught my attention, forcing me to take my eyes off her.
Rage. Fury. Anger. Jealousy.
I could feel the blood in my veins start to simmer, the need to kill and destroy scratching against marrow and bone. Suddenly, I was very much aware of the gun tucked away at my side, the weight of the weapon begging me to clutch it in my palm, then aim and pull the fucking trigger.
Matteo looked up, meeting my glare, a smug grin spreading across his motherfucking ugly face. That grin was like a giant “fuck you” directed right at me, and when he leaned down, placing his lips against her cheek while his eyes were still focused on me, I fucking lost it.
“Dante, no!”
Antonio tried to stop me. But how did you stop an enraged animal with a lust for blood? I rushed down the stairs, adrenaline scraping against my veins as images of Matteo’s headless body filled my mind.
As I stepped onto the dancefloor, I looked at Layla. Her amber eyes were wide with panic, her lips slightly parted.
She knew it. She knew it as well as I did.
I was coming for her…because she was mine.
Chapter 5
Layla
This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for. The moment when I would look into the depths of his deep sienna-colored eyes and know my entire life changed because of him.
I’d often wondered if leaving was the right thing to do. But deep down I knew I had no other choice. I thought I was strong enough, that I had what it took to survive a life without him. And for a while I had everything under control, thinking I had successfully managed to escape him in order to protect what was most important to me.
But I was wrong.
I was so fucking wrong.
I should have known there was no way to escape a man like Dante Valenti. Not in this world.
The day I fell for Dante, that was the day his dark world dug its claws into my soul, and no matter how far I had run, how hard I tried to get away from it all…it found me. It found me, and now everything was at stake.
And the way Dante stared at me, the flames of anger raging behind his dark irises, I knew there was no way I’d be able to survive the war ahead. And that was okay. I was already ruined. There was nothing left of me to salvage. My heart, my soul, my very existence had faded away…one needle at a time.
But even though I had no chance of survival, I would do what needed to be done…until my dying breath.
Chapter 6
Dante
A few feet. That was how far I stood from her—the woman who held my heart in the palms of her fucking hands. And even after all t
he pain she had caused me, I still thought she was the most beautiful creature God had ever given a pulse.
Seeing her again was something I would never be able to describe. The sight of her did things to my insides, spreading a wave of heat all through my chest, right to the hole where my heart used to be.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from hers. Those amber eyes which reminded me of each and every sunrise we watched together sucked me right in. I was completely caught up in the moment…until Matteo pulled Layla closer against him.
Every molecule, every cell inside my body exploded into an inferno of rage. I reacted. Like an animal protecting its territory, I wanted to attack and destroy. Claw and tear apart.
I stepped forward, my malicious intent obvious in my stance, my anger directed at the motherfucker in front of me. There was no stopping my instinct to eliminate the threat.
I pulled my arm back, my fist desperate to be coated in Matteo’s blood. But Antonio grabbed my elbow, pulling me back. “Dante, don’t!”
All I saw was red. All I wanted to do was kill. I wanted to tear Matteo Mancuso to fucking shreds.
Antonio pulled me closer. “You need to stop, brother. This is not the time or the place.”
I clenched my jaw, my murderous glare aimed at Matteo. “Let me go, Antonio.”
“You should listen to your brother, Dante,” Matteo said with a giant grin on his ugly motherfucking face. It was like a goddamn invitation for me to plant my fist against his jaw.
My nostrils flared, and my lungs expanded along with my rapid breaths.
“Dante.” Like the song of a siren, her voice pulled me from the rage-induced fog I was in.
I looked at her and narrowed my eyes. “What the hell are you doing here, Layla?”
Matteo wrapped his arm tighter around her, and a growl echoed up my throat. “As you can see, she’s here with me.”
I ignored him and kept my eyes on her. “Why?”
She bit her bottom lip, reminding me of how many times I’d bitten that same lip, sucked and nibbled it. Soft, red lips tortured me with memories of how they felt against mine.