by Bella J.
“Don’t you dare act like I have no say in any of this. You don’t fucking own me, Dante. I told you to leave me, to not bring me here. But you did it anyway. All of you,” I glanced at Lorik and Antonio, “have no clue what the hell is at stake. Yet here you are acting like goddamn savages over something you know nothing about.” I turned back to Dante. “Just let me leave. Let me go back, and you don’t have to worry about me anymore. You and your brother definitely don’t have to kill each other over me.”
Dante moved, coming within a few inches of me. The way he pinned his stare on mine, his body casting a shadow over me, made me suck in a breath.
“Apparently, I haven’t made myself clear. So I’ll say it again,” he glanced over my shoulder, “so everyone can hear. There is no way in hell I’m letting you go back to him. I don’t care who threatens to kick my ass, or who tries to turn my balls inside out.” Lorik snorted behind me. “But there is no way—no way—I’m sending you back.”
My chest started to ache when I saw the determination in his dark eyes. A part of me loved how much he still cared for me, how his need to protect me was so unwavering. But another part—the biggest part—was scared, afraid of what the consequences might be. The consequences of him still loving me.
He grabbed my elbow. “I think it’s time for us to talk.”
He started dragging me up the stairs and into the house. No one tried to stop him. Not even Antonio. Everyone scrambled around to get out of his way while he continued to pull me with him.
We entered the house, and I knew by the direction he was taking me that we were on our way to his room. My heart hammered against my ribs. I didn’t want to be alone with him. I didn’t know if I would be strong enough to resist him, to resist what I felt for him.
For the first time since all of this started, I tried to concentrate on the craving inside my veins rather than the way Dante’s presence made my body hum with equal parts fear and desire. I would rather let the demons take over than succumb to Dante Valenti. The risk was too high.
As we stopped in front of his bedroom door, he pinned me against the wall, his big frame caging me in. His intense gaze swept over my face, and I felt my desire for him climb. With each passing second, each breath, it climbed higher and higher, threatening to unravel me.
“Dante, you don’t know—
“You said that already. That I don’t know what’s going on.” He reached out with one arm, and I heard the latch of the door and the creak as it opened. “But you’re going to tell me everything,” he leaned down, his lips a few breaths away from mine, “and I mean everything. Right. Now.”
Chapter 12
Dante
I saw the secrets in her eyes. I saw the uncertainty, the fear. And even though I had every right to be angry as fuck about her breaking my heart without so much as a goddamn explanation, all I wanted to do was help her. There was this deep-rooted need that stemmed from the farthest parts of my soul to do everything I could to keep her safe. To protect her. But she needed to let me in, to open up and trust me. If she would just fucking talk, tell me what the hell was going on, I would have a better clue about what needed to be done. She needed to realize that right now I didn’t give a flying fuck about the past. All I wanted to do was sort out this entire mess, to make sure she was safe and as far away from that motherfucker Matteo as possible. We could deal with the past and all the unanswered questions once this was cleared up.
I stepped back but blocked her way, forcing her to walk into my bedroom. Her resistance, her fight to remain strong, was clear in the way she scowled at me while slowly walking through the door.
I noticed her tense the second she heard the door close behind us. She was nervous. I just didn’t know if it was because of the conversation we were about to have, or because we were alone. Look what happened the last time we were alone in the goddamn bathroom of Vertigo. I almost fucked her out of the little red dress she wore, right there against the wall. Just thinking about it made my cock twitch.
I took a deep breath. “I suggest you start at the beginning.”
She let out a fake laugh as she turned to face me. “The beginning? Seriously, Dante? Can’t you see it doesn’t matter where this started? It only matters where it’s going to end, and me being here is ensuring that it all ends the way he wants it to.”
“And how is that?”
She bit her bottom lip as if she was trying to keep the words from slipping out.
“Layla—”
There was a knock at the door.
“Fuck off!” I yelled.
“Dad wants to see you…and her.” Antonio slammed against the door. “Now!”
“Christ.” I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Just perfect fucking timing. Come on, let’s get this over with.”
She hesitated. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t worry, Layla. No one will hurt you. Not while I’m around.”
I held out my hand to her, after which she slowly reached out and placed her palm in mine.
I frowned. “You don’t know whether you can trust me or not…do you?”
“Do you blame me? I hurt you. I know that. What I don’t know is exactly how many scars I left behind.”
With a gentle tug, I pulled her closer. “You didn’t just hurt me. You fucking destroyed me. What you left behind was something much worse than mere scars, Layla.” I stepped forward, leaving no space between us. “Ever since you left, I tried to forget about you. To get over you. But guess what?” I softly brushed my knuckles down the side of her face. “I’m still not.”
A rush of air escaped her, the warmth of her breath wafting across my lips. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to tear her clothes off and remind her of what we shared with every thrust of my cock. But we had Daddy Dearest to face first. And God knew, my dad was probably on the verge of bursting an artery—he and Antonio both.
“Come on.”
With slow steps, she followed me. Every now and then I glanced her way. Sorrow and pain were all I saw on her face. Her clothes were stained with dried blood, and her hair was a mess. But to me, it wasn’t possible for her to look anything but beautiful.
We entered the dining room. Everyone was already there except Lucio. My guess was he had been given the task of taking care of Kate. This was a family matter—which meant it was a personal matter.
I looked straight at my dad. “You summoned us.”
He stared over my shoulder. “Hello, Layla. It’s nice to see you again, although I wish it was under better circumstances.”
She stepped in next to me. “Hello, Mr. Valenti.”
His gaze swept over her. “I think you should clean up. I’m sure you’ll feel much better when you do.”
I clutched her hand tighter. “Layla stays with me.”
“Dante, the woman is covered in blood. The least you can do is let her clean up in goddamn peace.”
“I repeat…Layla stays with me.”
My dad narrowed his eyes at me, but I wouldn’t be intimidated by anyone when it came to her.
“Fine,” he conceded before pouring himself a drink. “It seems your actions today have put our family in quite the predicament.”
I snorted. “You say that like I care.”
He shot a warning glare my way. “You should. You acted foolishly, putting every member of this family in danger. The least you can do is fucking care!” He raised his voice with every word, but I wasn’t the twelve-year-old boy who cowered under his father’s wrath anymore. I was a grown man, and I knew how to stand my ground.
“I did what needed to be done.”
“You gave the Mancusos what they needed to declare war against us.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Dad. We’ve been at war with them for years.”
He studied me, disapproval written all over his face. Lucky for me, I was long past the time when I needed his approval for anything.
Antonio leaned back in his seat. “We might have been at war with them for year
s, Dante. But your actions today gave them more ammunition to use against us.”
“How? By saving her goddamn life? I did exactly what Lorik did when Karina was in danger. Why didn’t you question his motives?”
“That was different.”
“Why? Because Layla’s not blood, or because you don’t like the fact that my loyalty lies beyond this goddamn family?”
Antonio’s stare of death was aimed right at my forehead. But I didn’t give a flying fuck. He knew it then, just like he knew it now. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. No matter what happened in the past—how much pain she caused me.
Father cleared his throat. “The word has already spread about you and Lucio killing four of Mancuso’s men.” His stare settled on Layla. “And that you took something that belonged to him.”
“Like fuck, I did. Layla belongs to no one…but me.”
“Dante,” she whispered. “Please stop.”
“No! No, I won’t stop,” I replied loudly enough for everyone to hear. “When it was Karina’s life on the line, no one questioned Lorik’s actions. Why the fuck am I getting the third degree for doing the same thing he did?”
Antonio opened his mouth, but Dad silenced him with a simple raise of his hand.
Speculatively, he stared at Layla and me, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I would like to hear Layla’s side to all of this. But I think she’s been through enough for one day.” He got up from his seat. “Get her cleaned up, Dante. We can discuss this further in the morning.” And then he left.
I didn’t stick around either and dragged Layla out of there as quickly as I could. Dad was right. She had been through enough.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Dante. You shouldn’t be defending me.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t deserve it.”
My temper flared, and I just reacted. With force, I yanked my bedroom door open and hauled both our asses inside before slamming it shut again.
“You need to stop with the bullshit, Layla. You have no fucking idea how deep this shit is.”
She snorted. “I think I kinda do.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
She pulled off her dirty jacket and tossed it on the couch in front of the window. “You think I’m all innocent in this, but I’m not, Dante.”
I walked across the room, closer to her. “Whatever he’s making you do, and whatever reason you have for doing it, I refuse to believe you’re in so goddamn deep that I can’t help you.”
She shook her head. “If only it was that simple, Dante.”
“It is that simple, Layla. Just fucking talk. Say the words, let me in, and let me help you.”
Goddammit. I was fucking desperate. I was at the point where I would plead and beg. The more I looked at her, stared into those painfully familiar eyes which reminded me of what we shared in the past, the more I started to think with my heart instead of my head…and it scared the shit out of me. My heart wasn’t supposed to be invested in this—in her. It took me too fucking long to adjust to a life with broken dreams and a broken heart. And then all it took was one glance, one moment, and I was catapulted back to being the man who would slaughter every fucking human being who stood between me and her.
I grabbed her arms and pulled her closer. “Talk to me, goddammit, Layla. What are you afraid of?”
“You!” she cried as tears flooded down her cheeks. “I’m afraid of you getting hurt, all because I made one stupid goddamn mistake.”
“What mistake?”
Sad, beautiful eyes stared up at me through long, dark lashes. “Leaving you.” She let out a breath. “I never should have left, Dante. I never should—”
I crashed my lips against hers, kissing her as if it would mean death if I didn’t. Her words forced new life into my blackened heart, making me want her more than I needed answers.
I pulled her against me, deepening our kiss. My tongue searched for hers, sweeping through her mouth, reminding me of how much I loved her taste. How I’d longed for it. Craved it.
Her soft moans filled the air between our mouths, her body trembling against mine. The more I kissed her, the stronger my desire for her became. Sweet lips of ecstasy tempted me—seduced me into wanting so much more, leaving me unsated if I didn’t have all of her.
I moved a hand up her shoulder, fingers weaving through her golden blonde hair. I fisted it in my palm, forcing her head back. My lips slipped from hers, lapping down the skin of her neck. More moans echoed from the back of her throat. I could feel her resistance crumble with every passing second my mouth remained on hers.
“Dante,” she whispered against my lips.
With heavy reluctance I pulled away just an inch, closing my eyes from the ache of wanting her, but knowing it wasn’t that simple.
“You should go clean up. I have a few calls to make, then we can talk.”
She bit her bottom lip, and it drove me crazy. My cock was already cursing this caring, pussy-whipped asshole I turned into during the last twenty-four fucking hours.
Layla nodded then walked off to the bathroom. It was only when I heard her close the door that I managed to take a deep breath. For so long I’d hoped that maybe one day she would come back, give me the answers I so desperately wanted. But never under these circumstances. I never wanted her to be caught in the middle of a fucking war between us and the Mancusos. This was exactly the reason I wanted to give it all up, to move on with her and forget about the life I had been primed to live.
But that sure as fuck failed because now we were exactly where I had hoped we would never be. In the middle of a war, torn apart, and alone. Plus, I had my family to worry about now as well. Antonio made no secret of how he felt about Layla. I wasn’t sure on which side of the board my father was, but he had always been unreadable—unpredictable. But I couldn’t chance it. I needed help.
I pulled out my phone and dialed.
“You know that favor you owe me?”
Chapter 13
Layla
I closed the bathroom door and sagged back against it. My heart was racing, my body humming, primed and ready to be taken by the one man who had always owned my heart. God, I was so weak when it came to him, unable to resist the seduction that clung to him like a second skin. My body betrayed me every fucking time I was near him.
With a deep breath, I pushed myself away from the door. It was only when I passed the mirror on my way to the shower that I saw how filthy I looked, patches of dried blood all over my clothes, my skin, my hair. I’d never seen a man die before, let alone be killed with a bullet to the brain. Just thinking about that exact moment made me shudder.
I wiped at a tiny patch of blood at the side of my face. There were dark circles under my eyes, my cheekbones more pronounced than they ever were. My hair was a knotted mess. I was a complete mess. I was wasting away, little by little. This was not how I envisioned my life. And this was not the life I wanted for him. I only wanted to protect him, to let him have the kind of life he deserved. But unfortunately, I was no longer able to do that. Not anymore.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand. It was the worst kind of torture to make me choose. Matteo was making me choose, and I did. I chose. But I didn’t think it would be this difficult to let the one go while protecting the other.
I missed him. I missed him so much, it hurt. But I needed to make sure he was safe, no matter how much pain I had to endure to ensure it.
I glanced down at the vein in my arm, the burn starting to intensify. It was also Matteo’s doing. His way of guaranteeing my full cooperation, and also ensuring my demise. He wanted to ruin Dante, ruin every member of this family…and I was his weapon of mass destruction.
With a heavy chest and an aching heart, I undressed and stepped into the shower. I had no idea how long I stood there watching the pink streaks of old blood flush down the drain. It might as well had been my own blood wash
ing away since I had no hope of surviving any of this. Not with the burn in my veins, the craving that made me rot from the inside out.
Everything played out exactly the way Matteo wanted it to. I had hoped Dante wouldn’t fall into the trap. That he didn’t care as much about me as Matteo thought. It would have been so much simpler if Dante didn’t have feelings for me. A part of me rejoiced because the man I still loved appeared to still care about me. But my heart was in agony over what I knew would happen while Dante played into every corner Matteo had pushed him, like a goddamn puppet. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I stepped out of the shower…and that was when it hit me hard, like a fifty-pound hammer. I collapsed. I was nothing but a puddle of regret, a pathetic sack of bones. I cried. I screamed out in agony, my chest hurting as if it was being cracked wide open.
Secrets. Lies. Deceit. It all came crashing down, and I no longer had the strength to keep standing.
Dante slammed against the door. “Layla? What the fuck is going on?”
I couldn’t answer him. I couldn’t even fucking breathe between the heavy sobs. Tear after tear I cried over all the mistakes I had made. Over mistakes I would be forced to make in the days to come. With my arms clutched around my naked chest, I rocked back and forth, unable to numb the pain.
The next thing I knew, Dante kicked down the door, rushing toward me.
“Jesus. Layla.” He wrapped a towel around my shivering body before helping me off the floor. “What is going on?”
All I could do was lean into him while burying my face in his chest as I continued to cry. It was when I felt him place his arms around me that his heat slowly started to comfort me. The familiarity of feeling him against me soothed me; it tamed the ache.
“I wish you would tell me what was really going on, Layla.”
“I can’t. I can’t tell you.”