by Leah Holt
Raking my nails through his hair, he tucked his head under my neck, resting his face against my breasts. “Who said I decided to stay?” I asked with a smirk dangling off my lips.
“You're here, that says enough.”
Pushing the hair away from his forehead, I ran my fingers over the rough stubble of his jaw. “How did your meeting go?”
Tilting his head up, his eyes darted between mine, but he didn't say a word.
I wasn't sure how to take that. Was he hiding his feelings about that too?
Was he harboring information that could free me or cost me my life?
“Dante, what happened at the meeting?”
Seventeen
Dante
What was I supposed to say?
Ivy expected her freedom, she expected to be protected and vanquished from that despicable man.
But did she expect that her freedom would come at a cost?
That for her to be free of Remo she'd be signing her life to me?
No.
I warned her that I was a bad man, she just chose not to believe me. She thought she saw a lost boy, a man who had staggered off the beaten path and was derailed by choices out of his control.
She was wrong. I knew who I was—I'm a Pisani. We breathe, feed, and devour power.
Ivy wasn't going home . . .
She was already there.
“I'm not sure yet.” Leaning back, I rubbed her sides.
“What the hell does that mean? How can you be unsure?” I felt her muscles tighten and pulse pick up in speed as she began to take in deep breaths. “What's going on? I need to know, Dante, you can't keep me in the dark. This is my life we're talking about here.”
“It's not that simple, Ivy, it's not. There are other factors, I need to do this right.”
“Or what? What the fuck are you talking about?” Pushing herself out of my arms, she folded her hands around her torso. “Enough with these cryptic explanations, tell me what the hell is happening right now.”
Fuck.
Standing quickly, my hands flew up in the air. “Fuck, Ivy, this shit goes a lot deeper than just you! There's a business here, there's a level of authority that needs to be followed.” Taking a lunge forward, I gripped her arms. “Trust me, I won't let that man have you, but that doesn't me you'll win freedom from this. Do you understand that?”
Her eyes began to well up, the tears balancing on the edge of her lids, hovering and glazing her stare. “I trusted you.”
“No, don't twist this. I told you I could keep you safe, I told you I wouldn't let him touch you again. But not once did I say you'd be free.”
“You told me to leave!”
“And I warned you if you did I couldn't protect you. That wasn't me setting you free, that was me giving you a choice of life or death. With me you'll live, out there,” I said, pointing my finger into the vast tree line. “You won't.” Disappointment stained her face, sadness weakened her stance. “Do you really think my father would just let you run away and not pay a price for escaping?”
Ivy's head drooped forward, all her hope and dreams fizzling away in one blink. “I trusted you.”
My chest began to twitch with pain, heart physically hurting with every beat. The feelings I had tried to bury, tried to hide, tried to dissolve into nothing all flooded in.
I didn't want to hurt her.
I wanted her for myself.
That came at a cost, having her meant taking her, it meant spoiling her future and breaking her again.
And I had been so willing to do that before.
Now I actually felt for this girl in a way that scared me. I wanted her to be happy.
But my father was in charge, and I had already done enough to earn a bullet in the head. I might be his son, but that didn't spare me from his anger.
Especially if the fuck up was big enough. He had already lost one son; with everything I was doing he was about to lose two.
I just couldn't stop myself. There was something about her that kept me wanting more, kept me needing more. I wasn't willing to give her up and that was dangerous.
For both of us.
“You need to realize who I am, Ivy.” Scooping her face into my palms, I forced her head up. “Say my name.”
“No, I'm done with you. If you want to enslave me the same way as Remo then fine, but you'll get what he got . . .” Her voice trailed off as her eyes turned to stone. “Nothing.”
She had turned bitter and I couldn't blame her for it. But I wasn't like Remo, this wouldn't be the same. I needed her to see that, to feel it.
I could give her everything she'd been looking for.
“Say my name.” Pinching her chin, I held her face tight.
“No.” Her teeth bit down on her cheeks, hollowing her face.
Her defiance to follow my order heated my nerves. But it wasn't in anger or rage . . . My body flew into a roaring inferno of arousal.
Ivy had challenged me.
Pushing my body against hers, her chest lifted hard, eyes staying open and firm. I fucking loved the strength that coursed through her veins. It was intoxicating, drowning me in wanton need to make her say my name one way or another.
It wasn't that I wanted to control her, it wasn't that I wanted to keep her for just my own personal enjoyment. There was so much more to what I was feeling, but there would always be rules, life had rules.
She just needed to understand the fire she was playing with. For her to live, she had to give in. Disobeying me would only hurt her further. And it wasn't my word that would cause her suffering.
It would be my father's.
Stepping with force, my legs caused hers to sway, knocking her off balance. Grabbing her by the hips, I kept her upright and made her walk backwards, forcing her against the wall.
“If you won't say my name on your own, I have other ways to do it.” My lip curled up playfully, twitching at the corner.
“Am I supposed to be scared?”
“No.” Palming her mound, I squeezed. “But I know how to help you, I know how to make your tongue dance between sweet words and sin.”
Ivy clutched my hand, her fingers twining delicately around mine. She wasn't shoving me off, she didn't try to hit me and run. I felt her heart skip as her eyes shined in liquid desire.
“I'm nothing like Remo, I won't hurt you, I won't scar you. I want to keep you to make sure you're safe, Ivy.” Lowering my mouth, I hovered just above the most delicious lips I had ever tasted.
She exhaled across my face, the warmth spreading over my body making my cock pulse. “And what makes you think that I want you to save me?”
A devious smile spread across my lips. “Because you're still here.”
Eighteen
Ivy
“Ivy, Ivy come down here.” My father's voice bellowed through our old farm house, ping ponging off the walls as it finally came to settle at my door.
Huffing under my breath, I rested my book on the bed and took the stairs by two to see what he needed.
I was slightly annoyed that he was calling me, I had already finished everything around the farm I needed to. But as long I just listened and yes'd him to death, I'd be back to it in no time.
Rounding the corner, I stepped into the den and stopped short.
He was here again . . .
That man with the devilish black eyes.
A shiver ran up my spine, spiking at the base of my skull. He gave me the creeps every time I saw him.
And now he was staring me down like I was a fucking meal.
Shifting my eyes between the unknown man and my father, my skin dampened with a cold sweat. “What's up?” I asked, cautiously skirting around the couch and moving closer to my father.
My father's hands were clutched tight between his thighs, his face pale and lacking any visible emotion. It was strange, he almost looked like he was made of plastic. My dad always wore his feelings on his face.
If he was happy you could see it, if he was angry
you would feel, no emotion went blind.
Not this time.
Right then he was completely sober, every muscle loose and hanging. He wouldn't look up at me; his gaze kept shifting between my feet and the rat-faced man sitting across from him.
From the corner of my eye I could feel the man's stare. It burned into my back, making me heat with unease.
The guy's face was sunken in at his cheeks, dark bags pillowed under his eyes. His hair was shaggy and dirty. Drawing a hand up, he brushed it over his ears and smiled through dried lips.
I couldn't help but notice how thin the man was. His arms were long and lanky, legs no bigger around than my calf.
But none of that mattered . . . It was the way he looked at me that made me so uncomfortable.
“Ivy, we need to talk.” Digging his thumbs into the underside of his chin, my father stared past me and at the wall.
“Alright . . .” Folding my arms up into my chest, I wanted to shrink myself smaller so that fucking guy couldn't see me anymore. “What's wrong?”
“Honey, this is Mr. Levoi—”
The man held his hand up, silencing my father. “Remo, please call me Remo.” His smile crept across his face like a slow slug.
“Remo, of course. Ivy, this is—”
“Remo, yeah, I heard him. Why am I here?” My senses had kicked in, flipping from curious to protective. I already had the feeling floating around my insides that this wasn't good, that there something off about this whole thing.
And my gut instinct was about to hit the nail on the head.
“May I?” Remo asked, standing with his hand against his chest. “Ivy, I'm here on business, business that myself and your father have been working very hard on arranging.”
“Okay, but why are you telling me this?” I didn't look at him, I looked straight through his slinky form and at my father.
“Ivy, Honey . . . This wasn't an easy decision, and I . . . I . . .” For the first time since stepping into the room, my father's eyes connected with mine. He looked sad, torn, and hidden in his gaze was the most delicate twinkle of relief.
Relief . . .
That one stung.
“Let me, Phillip, I can already see the toll this conversation will take.” Remo took a long step forward, invading my personal space. But I didn't move.
I think he expected me to, that he wanted to draw some sort of reaction from me. But he wouldn't see what he wanted, I'm not a girl who responds to intimidation.
Tapping the tips of his fingers together, Remo stalked around me, looking me up and down. “I've been waiting for this day for some time now, Ivy, and I'm having a hard time believing it's even here.”
Scrunching my eyes, I watched him move and his eyes lick my body. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You don't know?” Flicking his glare to my father, he whipped his head back in my direction. “Of course you don't, that wouldn't work at all.”
Cocking my head, I looked between the two men. “What the hell is going on? Dad, tell me what this is?”
“Hon—”
Slicing a hand in the air, Remo stopped my father from speaking. “Enough, Phillip, she's no longer yours to speak to.”
“What? What did you just say?” My jaw hit my chest, eyes trying to read the scene before me. “What the hell is he talking about, Dad?” Reaching for my father, I tried to walk to him.
I needed him, I needed him to hug me and tell me this was all a joke. That this guy was really just going to be our new farm hand or our new supplier.
My heart was racing, anxiety had crept up and began to steal the air around me. I could feel the tension in my chest as my ribs closed around my lungs and the world around me began to wash away.
The room turned upside down as I dropped to my knees and clawed at my throat. I needed to breathe, I needed to get the air in so I could understand what these men were talking about.
I heard the soothing sound of my father's voice as it whispered numbers into my ear. And the last words that I could remember hearing him say as everything went black was:
'I love you. I'm sorry, Ivy.”
Opening my eyes, I rubbed them vigorously, trying to force that forsaken dream from my head. I hated the memory of that moment the most. The need to find out answers had been torn away from me as a panic attack stormed in and stole my conscience mind.
I had been left with a set of last words that meant everything and nothing all at the same time.
If my father loved me, how could he do this?
What was he sorry for? For letting Remo take me or for what he did to land me there?
Those questions ran through my head every moment I was awake, and every night they played on repeat in my dreams.
“Morning.” Dante's voice smothered the quiet buzzing around me, forcing me to realize the nightmare was still going strong.
“Did you sleep there all night?” I asked, pointing with a weak and groggy finger at his seat.
“No.”
“So you slept somewhere else?”
“No. I didn't sleep at all. I wanted to make sure you didn't get any bright ideas during the night.”
Rolling my eyes, I flopped back down and covered my head with the pillow. Speaking from beneath my feathered buffer, I said, “You're pathetic.”
“No, I'm cautious. You're still the bartering tool, Ivy. I need you.” His tone was playful, eyes flickering with a spark. “Besides, watching you sleep, watching you toss and turn . . . It kinda makes me hot. You looked so vulnerable, I loved it.”
“What's wrong with you? Why can't you just do something good for once? Let me go, set me free. Do one thing in your life for someone else.”
“I did already.” Leaning over, he rested his arms on his thighs and thumbed his jaw. “I freed you from giving yourself to that prick, I saved you the trouble of having your first time be with some dirt bag who doesn't care for you at all. I kept my father from blowing your head off and spilling you onto that mattress. I did that for you. But that doesn't mean I can just send you on your way.” Leaning back in the chair, he tucked his hands under his arms. Watching him was hypnotic, he was a hard man to take your eyes off of.
His muscles perked up and flexed under his shirt. My stomach clenched with nerves, my pussy tightened and squeezed around nothing but the idea of him having been inside me.
“Why? What's the point of all that if you don't let me go?”
“There's rules, Ivy. Laws inside our family business that I can't break.” Dante's brows arched high, lips parting with sadness. “I have a job to do.”
Was he trying to fuck with my head?
I wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Was he going to help me, save me, keep me out of the hands of the man who turned my flesh into his personal stress ball?
Or was he sending me back?
He hadn't made that clear. Dante seemed to keep toying with me. He was tugging on my deepest wish to be free of Remo, but dangling his power over my head. I had no place to go and he knew it.
And deep inside me, someplace so far down and tucked away, Dante had me. He took my virginity, he held the last thing I had to give.
I was his.
The butterflies were unreal, storming my gut and turning my skin into a sun kissed glow. “I didn't thank you for what you have done, but I am grateful. But I need to know if you can give me my life back?”
Walking to the bed, Dante lay beside me, resting his hands under his head. “What would you say if I told you this was me giving you your life back?”
“I'd say that's fucked up.”
Turning to face me, he kept his eyes static. “Why is the idea of being here with me so awful?”
It's not . . . But it is.
How do I explain it so he can understand, so he can feel what I feel?
I was tired of being lost and forgotten. I was sick of being just a person with no direction but the options being forced down my throat.
I wanted to see my dad, my
family. I had so many questions about why this all happened. And being here would give me none of that.
But as I lay there next to him, his cologne swirled up and hijacked my senses. Dante made my muscles grow weak and my body hum with feelings that warmed me to the bone.
I wanted this man, I wanted to be with this man, and I couldn't understand why or deem any of the emotions hitting my nerves rational.
But I wanted Dante.
I'd be lying if I said the idea of waking up to him every day for the rest of my life hadn't crossed my mind. I'd be lying to myself if I tried pretend that he didn't make my toes curl and my heart beat a million time harder than it should.
But I also needed my family, my freedom . . .
Myself.
“Dante, I need my family. You said you do these things for your family, what if someone removed them from your life?”
Closing his eyes, he let out a long breath. “I've had my family torn apart, it's not what it should be, it's not what it was.” Reaching his arm to my face, he stroked my cheek. “My innocent princess . . .” His thumb traced my jawline, caressing my throat. “You see what you think you have to, but have you really looked at my life? My mother is dead, my brother forced us to turn him away. All I have left is my father, this business . . . My legacy.”
“But what if it was all stripped from you? What if you had nothing?”
His face was turned to the ceiling, his words floating up and falling down to cover me in lettered ashes. “If you leave, I will have nothing.”
My chest thudded, heart hammering so loud it was drowning out the words inside my head. He really feels for me.
“Why can't we have both?”
Chuckling, he let his fingertips glide down over my breast, circling my hardened nipple. “Sometimes sacrifices need to happen.” Slipping lower, Dante swirled around my bellybutton and smiled. “I won't let you go.”
“So what are you going to do to fix it?” I wanted to reach out and touch his face. Feel the stubble that had taken over his jaw, feel the twitch his muscles made as my hand pressed down.
But I didn't. Folding my hands together, I coiled them on my lap, braiding my fingers. I was nervous for his answer and what he thought he should do with me.