by T. K. Leigh
“Because if you continue down this path, that’s all you’ll amount to,” she continued, not even pausing for a breath. “Someone who spreads her legs in exchange for money, for gifts, for your fifteen seconds of fame. Eventually, he’ll tire of you, just like Brock. And what will be left? Nothing.”
Before I could even utter a word in response, Dante ripped the phone from me, the veins in his neck throbbing in a way I’d never seen, his face red, his lips turned up into a sneer.
“Listen to me right now,” he bellowed, making me jump.
I’d heard his demanding, powerful voice before, but nothing like this. Not even when he’d walked into his apartment to find Brock cutting off my oxygen. Something inside Dante had snapped, unmatched rage bubbling inside him.
“Don’t you dare say anything like that to Eleanor again. I don’t care who you are or how powerful you think your husband is, I will make it my mission to dismantle everything you have.”
“Is that a threat?” I heard my mother’s shrill voice crack over the phone.
“No,” Dante answered very matter-of-factly. “It’s a promise. I love Eleanor. And I will not let anyone hurt her, including you. She’s an adult capable of making her own decisions. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but she chose me. And as long as she keeps choosing me, I’ll be right beside her.”
He grabbed my chin, forcing my downturned eyes to his, showing me all the compassion and grace I needed to feel at that moment.
Licking his lips, he finished, “Because I will always choose her.” He slowly lowered his mouth, his lips whispering against mine. “Sempre e per sempre,” he assured me, his voice low so only I could hear it.
I opened my mouth, about to respond in kind, wishing his loving words were more powerful than my mother’s hate-filled diatribe that had polluted my heart, that had tainted everything I’d experienced the past few days.
Staring into Dante’s eyes, his concern for me overwhelming, I almost believed that love was stronger than hate. Then my mother’s demeaning voice sounded through the phone again, spouting more vitriol, and I broke down even more. I quickly tore away from Dante, hurrying into the bathroom, wishing I could just disappear.
I turned on the shower and stepped inside, not caring that the water wasn’t quite warm yet. I sat against the cold tile, pulling my legs into my chest, allowing my tears to finally fall. This was too real. Dante and I had only lived in the clouds, in a fantasy world, in a bubble where our love would be enough to endure even the roughest storm. But that wasn’t reality. That wasn’t my reality. This was just a reminder that maybe our love wasn’t strong enough to survive when the fantasy collided with the real world.
Almost immediately, I heard the creak of the door opening.
“Leave me alone,” I whispered, never feeling as vulnerable as I did at that moment. As much as I would have loved for Dante to wrap me in his arms and promise me everything would be okay, I couldn’t. Not now. I didn’t want him to think I needed him to wipe away my tears and protect me. I didn’t need him to take care of me. I could take care of myself.
“Eleanor, I just—”
I raised my head, my eyes on fire as I glowered at him, my body shivering from the cold water cascading over me. “Get. Out! I don’t need you to slay my dragons, Dante!” I lowered my head back to my knees. “Please,” I begged, my voice quivering as I fought back my sobs, hating that he bore witness to my mother’s hostility and how it affected me. “I need to slay my own dragons. Otherwise, she’ll keep me locked in the tower forever.”
When I didn’t hear the door close, I looked up again, meeting Dante’s concerned gaze. His lips were parted, his brows gathered in as he silently pleaded with me to let him fix this.
“Please,” I struggled to say past the lump in my throat. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“I meant what I said.” His voice shook with emotion. “I’ll never stop choosing you. I’ll never stop fighting for you. I’ll never stop doing everything in my power to give you the happiness you were never given as a child, to give you the love you were never given as a child. Don’t shut me out because of her. Don’t let her win.”
I opened my mouth, wishing I could give him the reassurances he needed. That I loved him, that this was always and forever for me. And maybe it was. But what if our forever was only a month, a week, a day? What if the heat I felt pulsing through my body last night as I perched perilously on the balcony ledge was the dragon’s breath coming dangerously close?
“What if she already has?” Swallowing hard, I swiped at my tears, teetering as I stood on my shaky legs. I adjusted the temperature of the water, turning away from Dante. “I need to shower and get to work. I’m already late.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“What do you mean?”
“We didn’t get to bed until after four. You can’t expect to function on such little sleep.”
Grabbing the loofah, I squeezed some body wash onto it, then glanced over my shoulder. “I have to.” Then I faced forward once more, still able to feel the burn of his eyes studying me. “It’s the only thing in my life that’s ever made sense. Whenever my mother or Brock made me feel worthless, like I would never be good enough for their high expectations, I would remind myself that at least I had my work. I need my work.”
He was behind me instantly, ripping the loofah out of my hand. He spun me around. “Let me be enough. I don’t want you to go to work today.”
“But I want to.”
“But you don’t need to. I can provide for you. You don’t need to stay here and be a victim to that woman’s hate. You can start over again in Italy…with me.”
I blew out a breath, briefly closing my eyes. I knew this conversation was going to rear its ugly head at some point. As much as I loved the idea of running away with him, of leaving this life that had never brought me anything but pain, I feared it wouldn’t work and I’d be left even more broken and beaten than I already was.
“Dante, my clients need me. I can’t just leave them.”
“Your clients at a job I can tell by the lack of life in your eyes that you hate?” He lifted a brow.
My lips formed a tight line, my tone becoming severe. “I’m not just going to ignore my responsibilities to them. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower so I can get to work.”
“No, Eleanor. Not like this.” His voice turned demanding. “You can’t!”
I blinked repeatedly. “I…can’t?”
“I mean—”
“I can’t?” I said again, my voice rising in pitch, becoming increasingly irate with each word. “Just because I let you tell me what to do last night doesn’t mean I’m going to let you control my life.”
He stepped back, increasing the distance between us, trying to soothe my anger with his placid demeanor. This was the final straw. I snapped, my nostrils flaring, a fire washing over me. My face heated, the vein in my neck throbbed.
“You don’t get to come in and order me around! You don’t get to decide what’s best.” My lips curving in disgust, I approached him, my hands landing on his naked chest. His expression was wide, torn, confusion and hurt clouding his eyes. “Game over, Dante.”
I pushed him away, turning around to resume my shower. Closing my eyes, I remained still for several protracted moments, praying he wouldn't push the subject any further. Finally, I heard the door creak, signaling his departure, and I released a grateful breath.
CHAPTER NINE
A STRAINED SILENCE FILLED the back of the dark SUV as Bradley drove north from Beverly Hills toward Encino to drop me off at work, since my car was probably still in some impound lot. I glanced at Dante, his brows furrowed, a sort of melancholy air about him. His eyes lacked the vigor and vitality they normally exhibited around me, the corners of his lips turned down into a small frown.
The instant he left me alone to shower, guilt found its way into my subconscious. He just wanted to do everything he could to make me happy.
Work did make me happy. At least it used to. Now I wasn’t quite sure.
Sucking in a breath, and a little bit of pride, I reached across the seat and grabbed his hand. He flung his eyes to mine, the slightest hint of a smile forming on his lips, like the lack of my skin on his all morning had been excruciating.
“My mother went to Harvard,” I began, running my thumb across his knuckles. I looked at our joined hands, marveling at how small mine was compared to his. My skin was smooth and fair, my nails painted a deep red. His hands were rough by comparison, his fingers long and thick. It was just another reminder how different we were. “Did I ever tell you that?”
He slowly shook his head.
I faced forward, still keeping my fingers wrapped around Dante’s. “My dad was smart, but not nearly as intelligent as my mother. He went to Cornell. It’s a good school, but it’s certainly no Harvard. Her maiden name is Wilson. Her father was a longtime U.S. Senator before he ran for and won the governorship here in California. She had political aspirations, too, but because she’s a woman, no one in the party leadership took her seriously, relegating her to the sidelines pretty much her entire life. I can’t help but think that’s why we never had a typical mother-daughter relationship. I don’t think she wanted to be at home, to have a family, to be the one supporting another person’s career at the sacrifice of hers.” I met his eyes once more, my voice catching. “I don’t want that to be us.”
He tightened his grip on my hand, bringing it to his mouth as he placed feather-light kisses across my knuckles. “It won’t be. I promise,” he urged. “We’ll figure it out.”
“How?” I asked, giving voice to the concerns that had floated around my head since we’d reconnected Friday night. Concerns both of us had done everything in our power to avoid discussing. “You live in Italy, Dante. I live here.”
“If being with you means moving here, consider it done.”
I shook my head, licking my lips as the weight of his words hit me. “But I can’t ask you to leave your family.”
“You’re not.” He reached for my seatbelt and swiftly released it, pulling me across the seat toward him. He cupped my cheeks in his hands, bringing my face a breath from his. “What’s it going to take for you to see that you are my family? I don’t care what I must do — move mountains, walk across the desert, turn water into wine. I’ll do it.”
“What if I’m not enough for you?”
“Stop it.” He cradled my head against his chest, treating me to the melody of his drumming heart. “Don’t let your mother’s words poison what we have. You’re more than enough. You’re more than I could ever ask for. You’re…you’re more.”
The car slowed to a stop and I glanced out the window, the familiar entrance to the building where the law firm was located appearing in front of me. Without a word, Bradley jumped out of the SUV and headed around to open the door. I hated leaving things this way, but maybe some time away from the fog of Dante would help me figure out what I wanted. At this moment, I had no idea what that was.
Once Bradley opened the door, I stepped onto the sidewalk. Dante clambered out behind me, grabbing my hand in his. When we approached the entrance, I slowed my steps, turning to him. I peered into his forlorn eyes, wishing I could give him the reassurances he needed. I wanted to. Hell, I remembered how miserable I was the past few months without him. I loved him. And he’d never given me any reason to believe he didn’t love me. Still, there was something preventing me from jumping back into my fantasy world with Dante. Something in the flicker of his eyes made me second-guess everything.
“I just need some time, Dante. I need my routine. It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. I need this right now.”
He looked down at me with longing, bringing his hand up to my face. I leaned into him, our skin fusing. “I’d walk through fire for you.”
I swallowed hard, giving him the only answer I could, the only answer that seemed true. “I know you would.” I raised myself onto my toes, brushing my lips against his so he wouldn’t see the uncertainty in my eyes. “Sempre e per sempre.”
“I really hope so, Eleanor.”
I pulled back, searching his face, wondering how he could see the battle raging inside me.
“I don’t care what it takes to be with you.” His expression turned fiery, his hold on my hands tightening. “I’ll do it. Just don’t push me away because you don’t think you’re enough, that you don’t think you deserve me. You deserve much more than what I can give you. I’m the one who’s undeserving.” He licked his lips, passion brimming in the lines around his eyes. “Not you. I won’t let her win, not when it comes to you. Okay?” He grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze to his.
I opened my mouth, ready to rattle off my mental list of reasons why we were just setting ourselves up for failure. But as I stared into his eyes, I told myself we would cross those bridges when the time came. The most important thing right now was the love we shared. And I did love him. I just hoped it would be enough.
“Okay,” I breathed.
“Okay.” He placed one last soft kiss on my forehead, then stepped back. “We’ll talk more this evening. As much as I’ve enjoyed all the other activities we’ve been engaged in…” A salacious smile briefly formed on his lips before his expression turned serious once more, “it’s important we actually talk.”
“Yes, it is.”
“What time should I pick you up?”
“Five?”
He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, his kiss light, the promise of something more.
“You’re more, too, Dante,” I said, not wanting him to walk away without knowing that I did care about him.
His mouth curved into a smile as he slowly lowered my hand. “That’s all I want. To be more for you.” He paused, then straightened his expression. “Have a good day at work. I’ll be thinking of you all day.”
“Me, too,” I murmured in a soft voice, then turned from him, a bit of reluctance in my steps as I headed into the building. Part of me wanted to jump back into the SUV with Dante and forget about the real world for a little bit longer, to have one more day in the clouds. But we needed to face reality, and this was my reality. A nine-to-five job. A crappy apartment. A stack of bills to be paid. A mother who never loved me. And a father who I felt like I didn’t even know.
After nodding a greeting to the building security guard, I headed into a waiting elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor. When it began its ascent, I pulled my phone out of my purse to see what I’d missed over the past twelve hours while I allowed myself to be immersed in Hollywood glamour. As expected, there were a few missed texts from Mila. I shot off a quick message to her, asking if she’d be able to drop the kids at her mom’s so she could meet me for lunch, to which she was only too happy to agree.
Once the doors opened, I shoved my phone back into my purse, continuing down the hallway and through the large glass doors of the law firm. The instant I crossed the threshold, the bubbly blonde receptionist, Maggie, jumped to her feet and rushed toward me.
“Holy crap on a cracker! You know Dante Luciano?!”
Taken aback by her sudden assault, I immediately stilled. I knew there would probably be questions, but I expected them from the media and my mother. I guess I didn’t consider the people I worked with would probably see the infamous kiss that, according to Mila’s text, was the big headline coming out of last night. No wonder my mother was so pissed.
“What’s he like?” she continued without even taking a breath. “God, that kiss, Elle! I wish my boyfriend would kiss me like that.” She placed her hand over her heart, sighing.
A blush bloomed on my cheeks as I recalled the feel of Dante’s lips on mine, the way he kissed me as if millions of people weren’t watching. The way he didn’t care that they were. The fact that the world bore witness to our kiss didn’t bother me at the time. It shouldn’t bother me now, either. But all I heard was my mother’s voice in the back of my head t
elling me I wasn’t enough. That I’d never be enough. I thought I’d cut the chains binding me to her and my father. Now I wasn’t too sure.
“How did you meet?”
“In Italy,” I answered. It was the only question I wanted to answer.
“So, you’re together then? Like, together together?”
I opened my mouth, uncertain as to how I should answer any questions relating to Dante Luciano. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say.
“Hey, Elle,” Blake interrupted, saving me from having to respond. He stepped into the reception area, a folder in his hands. I studied it, wondering if it was anything of interest. By the glint in his eyes, I had a feeling he’d found something. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” I turned to Maggie, smiling as I excused myself, following Blake down the hall and into his office. He made sure to close the door behind us, then led me to a small leather couch against the far wall. I noticed a pillow and blanket shoved into the corner between the couch and the wall, and raised an eyebrow. “Sleep here on occasion?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.” He sat down, gesturing for me to do the same. I obliged. “I found a few things.”
My heart rate picked up, my hands becoming chilled. I’d asked for Blake’s help to try to make sense of what was going on with my father, doubting anything would come of it. As much as I wanted closure, I didn’t know if I was ready to hear, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my father was the man responsible for Lilly’s death. I didn’t know what I wanted to hear.
“I looked into whether there were any suspicious events around the vicinity of Barnes Pharmaceuticals in the weeks leading up to Cynthia Edelman’s death, like you requested.” He paused, opening the file. “There were several.” He handed me a police report. I immediately began flipping through the account, as well as various witness statements. “That’s from the day she died.” I briefly met his eyes before returning my attention to the report. “An eighty-five-year-old man fell asleep at the wheel and drove onto the sidewalk, injuring a handful of people. The report indicates he suffered from Alzheimer’s and shouldn’t have been operating a motor vehicle. They slapped him with a fine and let him go. But when I looked into him, I found a transfer into his account of a few thousand dollars the day prior to the accident.”