by Leah Holt
But here I was, enemy number one to the most notorious and dangerous man in the state.
My guard had started to waver, balancing on my need for survival, and my need for comfort, attention, and . . . Love.
I wouldn't say that Dante loved me, and I certainly wouldn't put my feelings into a basket and call them cheery floating petals of emotion.
But it was better than what I had been getting, a hell of a lot better.
“How's the view?”
“Same as it has been,” I said, snuggling my arms into my chest. There was a draft blowing in from the window seam, making my body chilled. “You know, for such a strong window, it isn't sealed tight.”
“Yeah, well, you certainly tested its limits. But that's what you get with old houses.” Walking up beside me, he buried his hands into his pockets and stared off into the same nothingness I was. “I put some new clothes on the bed for you.”
Closing my eyes, I rubbed my elbows. “Okay.”
I felt him turn to look at me. His eyes threw off enough heat to let me know when they were on me. My skin would grow warm, prickles would spring to life and surf my body.
“What?” I asked, still keeping my lids shut.
“You're quiet.”
Opening my eyes, I turned to face him. “What do you want me to say, Dante?”
“I don't know.” Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned into the glass. “Ask me something, ask me questions about myself, about my life.”
“Why? What good would that do?”
“Ask me so I can ask you.”
What the hell is he doing?
“I thought you already knew about me? You knew my name, you obviously knew where I was so your guys could snatch me. You don't care about my past or where I came from.”
Rolling his eyes, Dante stepped in closer. “I'm trying to figure this out, Ivy. Maybe knowing more about you will help me make up my mind.”
Snapping my hands to my hips, I veered my stare. “You already have it all figured out, Dante. Your daddy made that decision for you when he held the gun to my head. Why are you doing this? Why are you screwing with me?”
“I'm not trying—”
Cutting him off, I threw my hand into the air, letting it fall to slap my thigh. “Yes, you are!” I felt all the anger I had stuffed down and away resurface. Yes, there was safety here, but that didn't erase the fact I was still a caged animal.
I was still having my life dangled before my eyes in a game of cat and mouse. Maybe he'll help me, maybe he won't. Maybe Dante feels something for me he didn't want to or maybe this was still all part of his mind games.
But trusting him wasn't something I was going to do just because he wanted me to. If I started talking about my family, he could use it against me.
Just like Remo did.
Watching him, his face softened. His eyes batted sympathetic lashes, lips frowning in understanding sorrow for my pain. “I won't threaten your family, Ivy. I'm not out to hurt them.”
How did he know I was thinking that?
“Yeah, I've heard that one before.” Twisting back to the window, I tried to forget all the pain I felt from being torn from them.
“I'm not Remo. Stop treating me like I'm him.” His chest pushed into my shoulder, muscles wrapping around me and warming my skin. “I would never hurt you like he did, I would never hurt your family like he promised to do. I might be evil, I might be a fucking bastard, but unlike him, I actually do what I say I'm going to.” Grabbing my hair, he forced my eyes onto his. “Don't shut me out, Ivy, I'm your only hope.”
Through thin lips, I gritted my teeth. “And yet you still don't have your mind made up. What am I supposed to do, Dante?”
“Tell me who you are.” His fingers traced my shoulder, sending shivers up my spine. “I'll make a deal with you . . .” His nails scrapped over my arm, following the contours of my back.
“I don't do deals.”
“You're doing this one.” Curling his fingers around my hip, he yanked me into his arms. “A piece of you for a piece of me.”
Arching a brow, he had me curious. I wanted to know him, there were questions I had and if I could get them without striking a nerve, I shouldn't pass up the opportunity.
“Anything I want to know?”
“Anything.”
“How do I know you're going to be honest?”
“How do I know you'll be honest?” he countered, smiling to his ears.
“You don't.”
“Exactly.” His lips touched the curve of my shoulder, goosebumps going off instantly. “Ask away.”
Thumbing my chin, I glanced around outside. “Alright, whose house is this?”
“It's my family's.”
“But—”
Tisking, Dante wagged a finger in the air. “One for one, I answered you, now it's my turn.”
Nodding, I took a deep breath, waiting for him to jump in feet first. I anticipated the worst. My nerves were skittish, stomach coiling around inside like a boa constrictor had taken hold of my organs and was squeezing the life out of them.
What did he want to know? What would he ask me?
And can I even give him an honest answer?
“Where are you from, Ivy?”
What? Seriously?
“That's your question?”
“Yes, why? Is there something wrong with my question?”
“No, I . . . I just didn't . . .”
“Then answer.”
“Maine.”
“Good, see? That wasn't so bad.”
My head moved to say no, my mind already running through all the things I wanted answers to. I stood silent for a long time, trying to sift between the important questions and the ones that I wanted just for me.
How long would I be here?
Why won't you just let me go?
What darkness do you cling to that you won't tell me the things you've done?
Whose dress was that?
Do you feel something when we make love . . . No, not love.
Do you feel something when I give myself to you? That's better.
“Your turn, Ivy.” His fingertips slid softly over my arms, lips placing another gentle kiss on the back of my neck.
Plucking at my lip, I asked, “Is there a girl waiting for you outside this house?”
Chuckling, he wrapped his arms around my waist and tucked his chin into my neck. “No.” Suckling my earlobe, he whispered. “I'll give you a little more on this one, I don't get close to people, I run from them.”
Is that his fear? Getting close?
“Do you need more?”
“Yes.”
“Me too, how long—”
“Uh, uh.” Dabbing my finger in the air, I stopped him from asking the question he had. “It's my turn now, you just asked me a question.”
Smiling into my neck, he laughed. “You're using my rules against me.”
“Rules are rules, my turn. Why do you run?”
“I don't do commitment, there's too much risk in it. Look where you are right now, imagine the pain some poor girl would feel if my enemies tried this. It'd be a whole lot worse than the shoes you're in right now.” His fingers pulled gently at strands of my hair, twirling them tight. “Did you like the life you had before?”
“Yes, very much, and I'd like to live to see it again.” Tilting my head, I let the heat of his body wrap me up like a thick blanket. I couldn't help the way he made me feel. There was comfort in his touch, a raw desire in his lips, and every piece of it was welcomed.
I tried to keep myself distant from the feelings slicing through my body, but I couldn't push them away.
Secretly I wanted him to take me right there. Let the questions turn into kisses, let them turn into his hands caressing my entire body, his tongue tasting every inch.
Dante was more than just the wall of muscle and pain he tried to encase himself with. His eyes were highlighted in curiosity, feelings, and a twinkle of downright dirty.
“Come on, Princess, ask another.”
“Whose dress was that?”
His muscles jerked, lips drifting off my skin and pulling tight. Dante didn't speak, he seemed to climb inside his head and go off to somewhere else. I knew it was risky to ask that again after how he was the first time.
But this was his game, not mine.
Releasing my arms, he walked into the center of the room, keeping his head low.
“Dante?”
“We're done, no more questions.”
“Wait, you can't—”
Whipping around, he stabbed the air with his hand. “I can, I just did.” Rubbing his forehead, his chest lifted rapidly. “I don't need to know about you, forget it, it was a dumb idea.”
“No, it wasn't. I shouldn't have asked that, I won't do that again.”
Shit!
Don't shut down!
I felt stupid for going right to that. I shouldn't care who the dress belonged to, it didn't matter. But I was too fucking thick headed to just see the kindness of what he had done.
He had given me clothing to cover up, he didn't leave me completely bare and vulnerable for his father.
Why did I ask that?
It was a gesture of kindness that I wanted to see as death. The dress could have belonged to someone who owned the house before his family, maybe it was extra clothing they had just lying around.
Did it really matter?
Dead woman or no dead woman, he did that because he wanted to.
“Ask me something else, Dante. I'll answer.”
His eyes licked my body, moving up my legs, over my sex, and resting on my lips. “Do you enjoy when I fuck you, Ivy?”
Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I kept my face on his. How was I supposed to answer that?
Be honest.
He was looking for honesty, and after everything he had done for me, I knew he earned it.
But what would he think if I told him the truth?
What would he say if he knew how I felt?
Would he run?
Lowering my eyes to the floor, I quietly spoke into the air. “Yes.”
Thirteen
Dante
Time had disappeared.
I had been held up in this house with a girl who made me forget the hours completely. And not once did I think about what was coming. There was a meeting I had to be at, one I couldn't miss.
The message pinged off in my pocket, a deadly reminder that my time with her was drawing to an end. But I couldn't accept that.
Has it really been two weeks already?
I didn't want to leave Ivy, I hated leaving her. I had only left the house a couple times since I brought her here. Today I was leaving for a reason that I honestly didn't want to consider; giving her back. It was time to force Remo's hand.
My father had given him the benefit of the doubt, his deadline had come and gone, and now it was time to throw our weight.
But this woman had started to consume me. When we talked, it was real. A real conversation that wasn't made up of false curiosity or some dick just trying to stay on my good side.
With Ivy, I wanted to know about her, I wanted to hear her talk. Which was a first for me. Her voice sent my heart into double beats, the way her lips moved made my cock stiff.
When I asked her to tell me about where she came from, she didn't have to pause to find the words.
She told me stories of the dairy farm she grew up on, and how she loved the smell of manure. Gross.
I had grown up on a completely different end of the spectrum. We lived in the city, played baseball in an old rundown parking lot. Our evenings consisted of big family meals, and my father started breeding my brother and I for the business when we hit our teens.
Most childhoods are made of stories like hers, but mine . . .
My stories were made of torture, money, and silver lined events.
But a twinkle of that nostalgic childhood happiness was all I could see when she reminisced about her life, and it drew me in. It was exactly what childhood stories should sound like. Her mother and father were good people. But Remo had given them promises he never planned on keeping.
Ivy told me how he had promised her father that he would care for her, love her, and always keep her happy.
And her family believed him.
But I didn't believe the bullshit he fed her. I knew that man, I knew what he was built of, and none of it was good.
And she knew it now, too.
It was the money that talked, that was the nail in her coffin. Her father never gave her an explanation to his decision, but she refused to think it was because he didn't love her.
Deep down, Ivy felt he didn't have a choice.
I wasn't so sure about that.
Did her father really love her?
How does a man sell off a piece of his own flesh and blood for profit? It didn't make sense. I could never imagine a day where a scumbag like Remo could walk into my life and convince me to sell my child.
I would've killed him if he came to me with an offer for my daughter. There had to be more to the story. Maybe her father had debt to him or needed the money to save something else in his life.
But money could turn people wicked in the worst possible way. It had the power to consume you to the point where nothing else mattered.
I saw that now. For the first time ever, I saw who I had become.
Power, money . . . They bled together. With money, you had more say; you had more control.
And that need to have it all was toxic.
I had been poisoned by greed.
Holding my bicep, Ivy pleaded with me to stay. “Dante, can't you send someone in your place? There has to be someone who could fill in for you.”
If only I could. My job since this whole thing went down was to make sure she didn't get away. I did my job. But I hated it. I couldn't keep her safe if I didn't do as I was told.
I wasn't going to risk her life, not for me, not for anyone.
My father was ruthless, he warned me not to get close to her.
He wielded his gun in my face, letting the metal taste my skin. My fate would be the same as Sesto's if I went against my father.
Life wouldn't exist for me.
He wasn't going to risk his entire empire, he'd kill me before that could happen. My father was willing to loosen his rope with Remo, but only because it didn't involve a set of bars.
Remo kept his pockets full, he thought we needed him. I felt totally different.
And I ended up doing exactly what he told me not to.
I let Ivy in.
“There isn't, Ivy, I'm sorry. I'll try and get back as soon as I can, but I don't know how long this is going to take.”
“Is this meeting about me?” Her eyes gaped large as saucers, shining like she was holding back tears.
God this woman is strong.
I didn't want to lie to her, and I wouldn't. But I couldn't tell her everything.
That would crush her.
“Yes, it's about you. But it's not the deal today, today's for talking.” Sitting back down on the bed, I gripped her wrist and tugged her onto my lap. Wrapping my arms around her belly, I laid my head on her back. “I'm still going to try and fix this, Ivy, I am. But I can't promise you anything, and that kills me.”
“I don't want promises, I want something that's real.” Twining her fingers into mine, she squeezed hard. “How do I know you'll come back?”
“You don't . . . You just have to trust me.”
“Do you trust me?” she asked, rolling her head on her shoulders and resting it against mine.
“I want to.”
“It goes both ways, Dante. If you want me to trust you, you need to trust me.” Holding up her ankle, she wriggled it softly so the chain jingled. “Trust me.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I raised my eyes to hers. “Can you promise me you won't do anything stupid, that you'll stay right here and wait for me?” Her eyes drifted
, flicking between mine. Cupping her cheeks, I spoke sternly. “Promise me, Ivy.”
“I promise.”
Kissing her soft lips, I curled my arms around her waist. “I'm going to fix this, somehow someway . . .” Brushing my nose against her chin, I let the warmth of her skin seep into my bones. She was so delicate, her skin felt like velvet against my face. “I'll keep you safe from him and from my father. They won't get to you, I'll do everything I can to make sure of it.”
“Just make sure you come back. I don't like being here alone.”
“No one's going to hurt you here, no one even knows where you are.” Running my thumb across her lips, I inhaled a deep breath. “If someone did find you and tried anything—anything at all—I'd fucking kill them.”
“What if your father comes back to finish what he started?”
“He won't, this is all on me.”
“How can you be sure? He wants me gone, he thinks I know too much.”
How do I tell her?
How do I tell her that it would be me who pulls the trigger?
“Because I'm sure. But, Ivy, no one is going to kill you. I'll kill them all if I have to.”
“That's what scares me, Dante. I don't want blood spilled because of me. What's your father going to say about all this?”
“He doesn't have a choice.”
Turning, Ivy straddled my lap, draping her arms over my shoulders. Running her nails up and down my back, she sat quiet for a moment. “Don't do anything stupid, Dante, I'm not worth the trouble. You'll do what you need to, but not for me.” Her fingers found the back of my neck, scraping up into my hair. “Do what needs to be done for both of us. If that means I need to go back to Remo, so be it. I won't let you risk your life for mine.”
Her eyes filled with sadness, the blue turning dark gray. As she stared at me through glass coated eyes, I felt my heart sink. She really couldn't see the beauty I did.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don't put yourself down, Ivy. I'm going to do what needs to be done, that's it.” Stroking her hair, I tugged it back into a tight ponytail so I could see all of her features. Her nose perked at the end, cheeks high and rounded. And when she smiled, a single dimple would imprint her right cheek.