Dirty Behavior: A Dark Mafia Romance (Behavior Series: Book Two)

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Dirty Behavior: A Dark Mafia Romance (Behavior Series: Book Two) Page 16

by Leah Holt


  Remo . . . I saw him raise his gun in my direction, holding it right at my face. And right then all I thought of was you and your brother. Your mom was gone, I didn't want you to lose me, too. Then one of the assholes who were hired came up behind me about to fire off.” Shaking his head, he lifted his face to mine.

  “What, Dad? What happened?”

  “Remo saved me. I almost shot him, I had my gun raised, trigger cocked. But he fired first, and it wasn't at me. He hit the guy square in the forehead.” Sticking a single finger against my temple, he pulled an imaginary trigger. “Remo made sure you didn't lose both parents that night. He could have killed me and he didn't. He went against the orders he was given. I owed him for that.”

  My jaw clenched tight, anger and disgust riding my spine in waves. “So that gives him a free pass for life? He saved you from something his father ordered? I thought it was blood for blood? Isn't that how you raised me? How many other guys have saved you over the years? And how many of those guys have you also ended up killing because they fucked with you?”

  “That's not the point, Dante.”

  “That is the point.”

  “Look, after that we came to an agreement. We'd work together, I'd provide him with protection and he'd help us with our shipments. Your mother 's death was an accident. According to Remo, no one was supposed to get killed. He helped me remove the problem, together we killed them all. So yeah, when he failed to pay us after the bust, I had to do something, but we can't kill him, Dante.” My father's jaw jetted out, a loud huff of air left his lungs. “This conversation is over.” Whipping the gun back to the woman behind me, he said, “Have her at the yard in two hours, Dante.”

  “And if I don't?”

  “Then you'll be dead to me forever, just like Sesto. The only difference is your brother is still breathing. You won't be.” Turning in one quick burst, he stormed out of the room.

  Fuck! Fuck!

  Gripping the sides of my head, I let out a loud angry growl.

  He wasn't giving me any choice. It was her life or mine.

  And he meant what he said. My father couldn't kill me himself, but that wouldn't stop him from having someone else take care of his loose ends.

  Without Remo, he'd lose his entire empire. It would take him years to rebuild a connection like that.

  But I'm disposable!?

  How did that make sense? How could he see that prick as being more valuable than his own son?

  My father was dangling my world on a hook, hoping I'd take a bite. I never thought he'd actually want me dead if I disobeyed his orders.

  I was his son, I was his legacy.

  This was a deal that didn't have a happy ending.

  Give her back and her life is over. Remo would probably rape her then dispose of her like a piece of trash.

  Keep her and my life is over. My father would have me killed by someone hiding in the dark. I wouldn't know when, I wouldn't see it coming . . . And he wouldn't take credit for it.

  I'd end up on the front page as the poster child for other parents trying to keep their kids in check. A poor mishap that had it coming from a life of crime and violence.

  I could see it now: 'The right deal gone wrong. Son of prominent figure Bane Pisani found floating in the Hudson.'

  Stretching her arm out, Ivy brushed my forearm. “Dante, what are we going to do?”

  I knew what I had to do.

  Ivy wouldn't like my decision, she'd hate me for what I was about to do.

  But I don't have a choice.

  Twenty

  Ivy

  Dante paced back and forth by the bed. He wouldn't speak, he wouldn't even look at me. “Dante, talk to me.” Pleading with him to stop the silent treatment and tell me what the hell he was thinking, I anxiously hung onto the air around me.

  What is he thinking?

  What's he going to do?

  You know what to do, I know you do.

  Inside I was willing him to see the answer. In my eyes it was easy, just send me home. I knew the direction I had to go, just close your eyes and I'd be gone. But he wasn't sending the message my way that he saw things like I did.

  Snapping his neck up, he kept his face flat and emotionless. Dropping his head back to the floor, he continued walking, burning a path into the wood.

  I had no idea what the hell was running through his head. But I had to crack the shell he had climbed into. “Talk to me, say something . . . Anything.” Climbing up onto my knees, I tried to figure out what the hell he was planning.

  There was definitely something going on inside that fucking skull of his. His pupils were huge, flicking around the floor. The muscles around his lips kept lifting and tugging in different directions.

  He can't give me back. I can't go back.

  Plucking at my lip, I kept talking. It was the only thing I could do. It had worked in the beginning, turning split decisions into emotion. He felt for me, I knew he did.

  And I felt for him.

  This wasn't an easy decision for him to make, I could see that. He was being tossed between the right thing to do and what his father was ordering him to do. I'd like to think I'd make the right choice if I was in his shoes, but I couldn't be sure.

  Family was a hard thing to turn your back on. Especially if they were the ones holding the leash and dragging you along.

  My father had made a choice, he chose to put me in the hands of a monster. Why?

  I might never get that answer. But I wouldn't ever give up on him. I knew deep down he had absolutely no option. His hands were tied somehow, and now Dante was in the same position.

  “I can't go back to Remo, I know your father feels he needs to own up to his end, I know that he thinks he owes Remo his life—but not like this.” Scooting closer to the end of the mattress, I rested my hands on my thighs and kept the words flowing. “Don't let him do this, don't let him control you and force you to do something I know you don't want to.”

  That caught his attention.

  “Don't tell me what I want or don't want to do, Ivy. You have no fucking clue what that man is capable of. He's my father, he's my boss, I have orders.” Scraping his forehead with his palm, Dante stared into my eyes with the same look I saw the first night. “I fucked up, now I have to fix it. I shouldn't have gotten close to you, that was a mistake.”

  My heart broke, cracking open and spilling inside my chest. “You don't mean that.” I felt the room start to shrink, my breathing picked up and became loud and heavy. “How can you stand there and say that?”

  His tone was stale. “Because it's true.” Stepping in, he started to lift his arm to my face. “Ivy—”

  “Don't you dare touch me.” Throwing my arm up, I slapped his hand away. “I can't believe you, you're a fucking coward. You feel the same thing I do, I know you do.” Jerking my legs out from beneath me, I jumped to my feet. “How can you stand here and act like there was nothing between us?”

  “It doesn't matter.” Shaking his head, Dante drew thick air into his nose. “None of it matters. It comes down to surviving.”

  “Don't you dare try and talk to me about surviving!” Yelling, I stood on my tippie toes and looked as closely into his eyes as I could. “You don't have a fucking clue what it means to actually survive. So you're giving me back, is that it?!”

  “What choice do I have, Ivy? I don't want to be the reason you get killed. I understand what my father is feeling now.”

  “Fuck your father! Fuck you!”

  Grabbing my arms, Dante pressed me into his chest. “Don't you get it, Ivy? My father's the way he is now because he couldn't save my mother. That's why he doesn't want to take a chance with you, that's why he didn't want me to get close to you. He's trying to protect me from what he already knows is inevitable. You're not safe with me, not while I do this work, not while I'm a Pisani. I'm a bad man, Ivy, and with that comes terrible shit. I can't have you on this end, I couldn't handle what would happen to you if my enemies found you.” Wrapp
ing his arms around my back, he whispered. “If I lost you, it'd kill me.”

  “No.” Curling my lip up, I spoke through gritted teeth. “This is different. You're about to be the reason I die, you're about to be the reason your father will still owe Remo. Can't you see that? You have the chance to do what your father couldn't, you can save me.”

  It didn't matter how much I tried to talk him out of it or how much I wanted him to see my view of this whole thing. Dante couldn't look past what his father had gone through.

  He couldn't stand the thought of not being able to save me. I could see the pain in his eyes as his brows dipped in and his chiseled jaw twitched with sadness.

  “I can't be the reason you die, I can't kill the man who's hurt you. I'm not saving you, Ivy, I'm only prolonging what I can't control.”

  Letting my muscles go limp, I said, “No, that's not it at all.” Lifting my chin up, I said, “You just don't know how to take control. You only know how to follow orders.”

  Releasing my waist, Dante stepped away, leaving me wishing for his touch. It didn't matter what he was thinking, I still wanted him, I still had feelings for him.

  My time here had been worth it, I made choices and had a voice even if it was only for a brief second in time. I had to be okay with that.

  There was nothing I could say to change his mind, he'd already made it up.

  Walking out of the room, Dante came back after a moment with his hands behind his back. “I don't want to do this, but I have to.”

  Nodding yes, I kept my eyes trained on the floor. He was a lost boy like I thought. I could hear it in his voice that he didn't want to follow his orders, but he didn't see any other option out of this.

  I didn't want him to die either, I didn't want him to lose his life because of me. Enough blood had been spilled in my honor.

  Dante's hand came in and scooped my jaw, turning my head up. “I wish things could be different.” His lips grazed my nose, setting the most tender kiss against the tip. “I'm sorry, Ivy.” The clink came in first, followed by the recognizable feel of cold metal.

  My hands had been cuffed.

  I was done fighting. There was no point.

  Guiding me downstairs, Dante led me outside and to the car. I didn't say another word, there was nothing more for me to say.

  I wasn't running, I wasn't going to elude my ending any longer.

  The trunk popped open as he hit the button from his pocket, leading me back into the darkness. There would be no more tantrum, no more hate filled words.

  This was just my time.

  I wasn't giving up, I was accepting where fate had decided I go.

  Dante's hand came in and touched my lower back, slipping up and settling between my shoulder blades. “I'll help you in.”

  “I don't need your help, take your hand off me.” Lifting my foot, I flopped my body into the trunk. Keeping my eyes off him, I stared at the sky. Tears were nestled and pooling in the back of my eyes, making the sky look swirly.

  But I wasn't going to cry, it was time to shut myself off; turn away the emotions that wanted to take hold, remove the feelings that I had let leak in and come to life.

  As he hovered over me like the shadow of a hawk flying over its dying prey, Dante held the lid and peered down. “I really am sorry, Ivy, I tried.”

  “Yeah, you tried. I hope that makes feel you better.” My soul had sunk into my gut, all my emotions following it down and cowering beside it.

  I had nothing left.

  No more hope.

  No more gratefulness for being here.

  No more belief in freedom.

  Breathing heavy through his nose, Dante lowered the trunk lid slowly, pushing it down to click it in place. Slapping the roof with one heavy hand, I heard his feet crunch over the gravel and the driver's side door slam shut.

  The sound of angry heavy metal barreled through the speakers, turning the quiet space into a vibrating room of hatred.

  And as I sat in complete darkness, I closed my eyes, and let the rest of who I was fly freely from my body. I was just a pile of muscle and bone now.

  My life was over, but no one would take me.

  That was something no one could have, I would make sure of that.

  In this trunk, I freed myself.

  Ivy didn't exist anymore.

  Twenty-One

  Ivy

  Laying in the blackness that consumed me, my body jumped and rocked as we drove over bumps and dips in the road. I didn't know how far we had to go to get to the yard, and I didn't know what we'd find when we got there.

  But I did know whose face I'd see.

  And that made my blood boil.

  Remo wouldn't let me go, he wouldn't give in and relinquish his control of me.

  No. He wanted what he wasn't ever going to get.

  My virginity.

  Dante had that, that was the one piece of me he would always have.

  I felt the car roll to a stop, the music was still going strong, but it was the first time the vehicle wasn't moving.

  Anticipation clawed its way through my body. Waiting for the trunk to open, my nerves electrified, I wondered what face would greet me.

  But then we started driving again, and every inch of me was still crawling with nausea. I didn't want to see anyone else, I didn't want to be met with the eyes of pure evil; I only wanted Dante.

  The engine still hummed just enough for me to feel its strength through the thin carpeted floor, the jerk of the car caused my body to rock violently as Dante turned a sharp left.

  How much longer will this last?

  I searched the trunk when we first started the trip for anything at all that I could use. Call it instinct kicking in and the feral need to protect myself had slipped out. The thought of killing myself had briefly crept into my mind and as sick as it sounds, the thought made me momentarily happy.

  The idea that if I could control my own death and take that from Remo, too, just like I had chosen to let Dante take my innocence, I'd be the one in control. I'd hold the power that Remo wanted to wield over my head.

  But as the thought entered and fluttered around for a second, I slapped it down.

  I wasn't going to do that even if I could. I'm strong and I can still survive this. That I was sure of. If I had made it this long, I could go longer.

  I'll admit it was a weak moment. But you have to understand what I was up against. I was about to be handed back to the man who beat me, broke me, and stole all the humanity I had. He turned me into his pet, a woman that was being groomed for the ultimate betrayal: contracted rape.

  And I was sure that after all this, Remo would have no problem taking out his anger on me. He'd blame me in some way for what the Pisanis did.

  Why wouldn't he?

  And once he learned that my captor—the trader to his associate Bane—had the luxury of taking the one and only he thing he wanted . . .

  I was dead.

  I wasn't proud that I allowed my mind to drift to such an ungodly release of myself.

  Strength had been my only weapon. I wasn't going to let it fail me now.

  It was my every day that I wouldn't have power over, it was the world around me that I wouldn't ever be able to control again.

  But my life . . . That was mine.

  My soul had been released, my body was Remo's to take.

  Let him have the empty shell that once breathed and lived. He couldn't touch me on the inside, I was in hiding deep within these walls.

  Suddenly the music shut off, the car slowly stopped again, and I felt the engine shut down.

  My heart started to race inside my chest, my mind scrolling through images of what the next moments could be like. The moment I was handed over, the second Remo's skin touched mine again.

  Shivering, I felt my body break into a cold sweat. When Remo touched me it was like he was touching something that was made, something that wasn't living and breathing.

  Then I remembered what it felt like to have D
ante's hands on my flesh, what it felt like to feel his lips touch my neck, and his hands caress me with a tender and rough need. One stroke and I was on fire, his touch could turn me into ashes.

  That was what I wanted to remember, that was what I wanted to burn into my memories to help me go on.

  He would always have me, even after I changed hands. Nothing would ever stop me from being his.

  I belonged to Dante Pisani and I was going to make sure Remo knew that.

  I felt the door shut softly, the sound of feet followed, tapping against hard ground. There wasn't the rustle of grains of sand or tiny chirp of rocks clinking together as they were shuffled around.

  Are we here?

  Staying still, I waited for more sounds. But it grew quiet for what seemed like minutes. A voice came from someplace further away than the car, the words all muffled and blended together in one drawn out sound.

  Who's talking? Who's out there?

  Fuck! I don't like this!

  Curiosity was a killer in itself . . . And curiosity was holding my lungs stagnant.

  Straining, I tilted my head up, pushing my ear against the side of the trunk. I could still hear the voice, but it was only one. No one else was talking back.

  Are we waiting?

  Is Remo not here and on his way?

  Or is Dante just listening to orders being given by some other man?

  I hated this the most. The between time, where I was left in the dark, alone, having to figure out what was being played out around me.

  The voice had stopped, and I heard the gentle feet again. Metal sparked against the back of the trunk, filling the lock. It was another hungry stomach being fed its dinner and I was in the belly of the beast.

  The lock clunked, a shimmer of daylight slipped through the crack as the lid was lifted with deadly slowness. The sun glared down on me, burning into my eyes and blinding me.

  Holding up my cuffed hands in front of my face, I blinked rapidly to try and get my vision back.

  A large, dark figure leaned in, turning the sun into a forgotten fire. His face flickered between smiles and uncertainty. Dante held out his hand, palm open flat and offering me one more touch of the only man I've ever truly wanted.

 

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