The Emperor (Dark Verse Book 3)

by RuNyx

  Pieces fell into place. “So you killed her.”

  He shook his head. “No. Lorenzo grew very fond of her actually. They’d had a rough start but over the years things became good for him. We decided to keep it quiet and protect her. She became antsy after that but we were containing the situation. Except we didn’t realize another thing about The Syndicate – they always plant their people where they’re dealing. One of our soldiers was their spy, and one day, he went into her studio and made her slit her wrists while holding the gun to her son’s head.”

  “Oh god,” Amara clapped a hand over her mouth, the shock of the words hitting her. She felt her heart bleeding for the woman, for little Damien, for Dante.

  The wind swept over her exposed arms, chilling her to the bone, her eyes taking in the sincerity on the older man’s face.

  “I’m sorry,” Leo said, his voice deep, and hesitated. “It was to teach Lorenzo a lesson, to keep him in line. There were bigger fish in the sea than he was.”

  “What happened to the spy?” Amara asked, her hand fisting the fabric of her dress.

  “After the assassination and Lorenzo’s cooperation, the spy got promoted in the Syndicate and became our handler. Any work, any news, any report, he was our contact.”

  The hesitation in Leo’s demeanor had a rock lodging itself on Amara’s chest.

  This was bad. Whatever this was, it was bad.

  “Say it,” she whispered, hoping it wasn’t what her mind was telling her. She felt Vin’s hand come on her shoulder in support, and took a deep breath, steadying herself.

  “When we caught you eavesdropping, we had to report it to him,” Leo said, his eyes regretful. “He-”

  A shot rang out, a bullet hitting him right between the eyebrows, and Amara screamed, her throat straining. Vin ducked, pushing her down to the floor, and Amara kept her eyes on the dead body of the man who had been partly responsible for her abduction.

  A wave of dizziness swept through her, and she realized she’d been holding her breath for too long. Gripping the marble at her side, Amara felt her eyes begin to burn, her jaw shaking with the effort of keeping in the scream in her throat, memories, horrific memories, assaulting her.

  What had he been about to say?

  Guards came running to the gazebo, along with some guests from the party. Amara sat up on the floor, the chill from the marble seeping into her bones.

  “Amara!” Dante’s voice thundered through the ground as he ran towards her, his eyes panicked.

  He dropped on his haunches as soon as he reached her, his hands going to her face, his eyes running over her body. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Fuck, Amara talk to me!”

  Amara shuddered, hanging onto his hands. “I’m okay. We’re okay,” she reassured him and watched his eyes harden as he turned to Vin. “I want to know where the bullet came from and which motherfucker fired it.”

  Vin gave him a quick nod before running towards the mansion, and Amara turned to Dante, watching the deep pools of darkness in his eyes, wondering how she was going to tell him what she’d learned.

  “So, wait, let me get this straight,” Morana said over the video filling her phone screen. “This MrX dude who ordered your abduction was an Outfit soldier before he became a Syndicate spy? He got promoted for killing Dante’s mom? Wow, that’s a different level of fucked up. How did Dante take it?”

  Amara sighed, stroking Lulu’s fur in her lap. “How do you think?”

  “Not well, I’m assuming?” Morana winced, the penthouse lit up behind her.

  “He’s been having meetings in his office for the last few hours,” Amara told her. “I think my being so close to the bullet shook him.”

  “It’d shake anyone, Amara. Especially after finding out what he did about his mom,” her expressive eyes softened in sympathy for him. She got distracted for a second on screen, looking to the side. “One second, Amara,” Morana said before moving to the side. “No, no, that’s not how you do it, Xander. Put the basic code in and open the file. Yeah, that’s it. Well done, you! High five!”

  Amara felt her eyebrows go up. Xander was what, eight? And he was talking code with Morana? What the hell?

  Morana came back on screen, a huge smile on her face. “Sorry, Xander needed some help.”

  “How’s he doing?” Amara asked, curious about the boy.

  Morana shrugged. “Not the best, if I’m being honest. He’s not talkative at all but boy, he’s freaky intelligent. Like even I wasn’t doing the shit he’s doing at his age. He likes to sit with me when I’m working, seeing all the codes and stuff. But doesn’t talk, except to maybe ask a few questions. Just my luck huh? Stuck with two guys who barely grunt,” she ended on a little laugh, shaking her head.

  “You should have him tested for his IQ,” Amara pointed out.

  Morana nodded. “Yeah, we will. I mean we’re all just kind of adapting to being in the same space, you know? Tristan took to it like a duck to water, though. He loves him. He doesn’t say it, but I can tell. I found them in the kitchen one night cooking pizza because Xander had a nightmare.”

  “That’s big for Tristan,” Amara admitted.

  “I know right?” Morana nodded. “I’m still searching facial recognition for anything on him, but so far nada.”

  “Has he said anything about the Shadowman?” Amara asked, curious, settling back on the couch in the living room, sunlight filling up the space.

  “Tristan said he mentioned him. Just that he always left Xander notes to communicate and stayed in the shadows. Last time he saw the guy was in the fog. I think you might be right, about him being the Airport Guy. He’s been freaky about me not seeing him. By the way, have you tried this new peach milk moisturizer? I hear it’s divine.”

  The sound of footsteps brought Amara’s attention. “Listen, I’ll talk to you later,” she told Morana and they hung up.

  Nerea walked into the room, her eyes coming to Amara.

  “Hey,” Amara said, concerned about the way the older woman stayed silent. Over the last few days, she’d not had the time to talk to the woman.

  Nerea stopped at the edge of the room. “You’re pregnant?”

  Amara furrowed her brow. “Yes, why?”

  Nerea shook her head. “No reason. I’ll catch you later.”

  She walked right out of the room, the little interaction weirding Amara out.

  Dante wore glasses, looking at his laptop screen as she and her mother sat on the office couch, discussing the wedding plans. Usually, they sat somewhere else and didn’t interrupt her husband-to-be, but that day his input was required.

  “So, gold or silver?”

  “Gold.”

  “Different tables or buffet?”

  “Different tables.”

  “Are we calling Al and his family?”

  “Yeah.”

  That’s pretty much how it had gone since the last hour. She and her mother would ask final questions, and he would give monosyllabic replies, all the while working on his laptop. It was a gorgeous day too, with the bright sun filtering in through the big windows of his office, Lulu napping on a particularly warm spot in the ray of sun. She’d made Dante’s study her day place. If he was there, she’d be there. If he wasn’t there, then she’d find Amara. If neither of them were there, then she’d snuggle somewhere in a huge mansion and sleep.

  Amara looked at him in his zone, with the scruff that had become an almost beard, the glasses on his handsome face, and felt her belly flutter the same way it used to when she’d been a teen, watching the unreachable boy. She rested her face on her hand stared at him.

  “Why are you staring at me?” he asked her, not looking up from the screen.

  Her mother looked up at them. “She has always stared at you, Dante,” her ma said with amusement. “You shouldn’t be surprised anymore.”

  Dante grinned but kept working. The vibration from his phone had his face turning to the side.

  “Morana,” he greeted. “I’m putti
ng you on speaker. Hold on.”

  He placed the phone on the table and went back to looking at his screen.

  “Okay, so you know how I’ve been keeping my eye on Nerea for months? She disappeared so I tracked her and guess who she led us to?”

  “Who?” Dante asked absently, still looking at his screen.

  “MrX,” Morana’s excited voice came from the speaker as she talked fast. “So, I went down under, digitally speaking, looking for more info on the guy she met and I just hit jackpot!”

  Dante stilled, his focus on the call now. “You have a name?”

  “Oh no,” Morana spoke, enthused. “I have a first name and a photo. How amazing is that? I’m running facial recognition as we speak. Check your email. I’ve sent it to you. It’s encrypted for protection so I’ve sent the code you’ll need to decrypt it as well. Okay, that was it. I have to go now.”

  “Tell Tristan to give you a hug from my side,” Dante smiled.

  “Fat chance of that,” Morana chuckled. “I’ll just take it myself. Talk to you later.”

  The call cut off and Amara felt amazement wash over her again at the crazy stuff her friend did, which she’d never been able to understand. She stood up, her back slightly aching as her bump grew, and walked to his side, curious to see the photo.

  Dante opened the email, put in the code, and a flurry of text came on the screen for a split second before the folder opened.

  “Xavier,” Dante mused. “MrX. Seriously?”

  Shaking his head, he clicked on the photo, enlarging it. It was the headshot of an average looking, clean-shaven, balding man wearing gold-rimmed glasses.

  Amara frowned, the photo nagging something in her brain. “I’ve seen him before.”

  Dante turned to her, his eyes sharp. “Where?”

  She shook her head, trying to remember, his face familiar but stranger. And suddenly, it hit her.

  “They showed me his photo,” she rasped out. “During my interrogation, they showed me his photo and asked me if I recognized him. That’s where I’ve seen him!”

  Dante clenched his jaw, his hand settling on her hip. “We already know he’s the one who gave the order. And that he was possibly there.”

  She felt her mother come to her side, rubbing her back in comfort before suddenly her hand stopped. Amara looked down to see her mother staring at the screen, a look of shock on her face.

  “Ma?” she asked, concern washing over her. “You okay? You know him?”

  The older woman looked like she was reeling, looking up at Amara with the same green eyes.

  “That-that’s your father, Mumu.”

  Amara felt her heart stop.

  No.

  No way.

  What the hell was she talking about?

  “No,” Amara whispered.

  She felt Dante’s grip tighten on her hip, his eyes on her mother.

  “Are you sure that’s the same man? Amara’s father?”

  Her ma nodded, looking closely at the screen. “He’s aged but it’s definitely him. He ordered your abduction? That’s not possible. No. He’s your father!”

  Her father? She’d never had a father. He had left so early in her life she didn’t even remember him anymore. It hadn’t traumatized her or anything. Her mother had been more than enough for Amara. But what the hell?

  “I don’t understand,” Amara croaked, confused, scared, not good.

  “I kicked him out soon after you were born, Mumu,” her mother told her. “He had been… toxic and I didn’t want that in your life. So I asked him to leave and he left. I was prepared to tell you about him but you never asked in any detail.”

  She hadn’t seen that one coming.

  She had absolutely not seen that one coming.

  It felt surreal. She couldn’t believe this. She wouldn’t believe this. Because believing this meant believing that her father had been the one to sanction her trauma, her torture, her rape. Believing this meant believing he’d been the one to hold Dante’s brother hostage while making his mother bleed. Believing this meant believing he was a monster and not just a stranger who never wanted to be a part of her life.

  It was the silence in the room that slowly made it real to Amara. She felt the tar in her lungs again, dripping, pulling her under, weighing her down as she started to breathe faster. Her mind started to process but failed. Her heart started to hammer and her stomach got tight.

  She felt something heavy on her chest as her vision blurred, swaying slightly on her feet. Something pulled at her arms, making her fall and sit on something warm. The scent of masculine, musky cologne cut through the fog, seeping into her lungs, dispersing the tar with the feeling of safety it brought.

  Amara focused her gaze to find herself sitting on Dante’s lap, his strong, muscular arms around her, squeezing her tight.

  Lulu jumped on the table, coming towards her, years of being with Amara having made her sensitive to an anxiety attack.

  Amara took a deep breath and pulled the pet into her arms, hugging her to her bosom, stroking her as the cat started vibrating like a little motor against her, calming down her racing heart.

  “So, MrX is my father,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the last word as she felt her man still, before he relaxed again, giving her a soft squeeze before staring at her mother.

  “What did he do when you were with him?”

  The words were quiet, permeating the air in the room.

  Her ma inhaled, her slightly wrinkled hands shaking as she absorbed the news. Amara couldn’t even imagine how she must have been feeling. “Xavier was a soldier in the Outift at the time. It was right around when I joined the staff as a cook. He was very brazen, and we spent a night together, and it got very toxic, very fast. He’d had a horrible upbringing and the more I saw him, the more I realized just how… wrong he was. Your birth gave me the push to throw him out of our lives. I never wanted his shadow to touch you.”

  Amara felt her throat get tight at the love her mother had for her, relating to it now in a way she never had before. Hadn’t she done the same when she’d found out she was pregnant? Hadn’t she run away to protect her child from this world?

  Amara took a hold of her mother’s hand, her eyes shimmering. “I love you, Ma.”

  Her mother’s gaze softened. “I love you, Mumu. Are you okay, baby?” she asked her.

  Amara shrugged. She didn’t know.

  Dante kept his arms around her, his voice kind as he spoke. “Will you give us the room, Zia? And please get yourself some tea and come back.”

  Her mother nodded. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

  Amara watched her walk out and close the door behind her, and she let the cat down on the floor, turning in Dante’s lap to look at him.

  “Now I know how Morana feels,” Amara told him softly, her heart hurting. “The sins of our fathers do stay with us. I’m sorry for what he did to your mom, Dante.”

  Dante’s jaw clenched under his scruff, his dark eyes closing as he put a hand behind her head and pulled her forehead to hers, just breathing her in, their chests rising and falling in the same rhythm.

  “I’m sorry for what he did to you,” he told her, his voice gruff.

  Amara swallowed. “He was there. He came to see me there and let it happen. What kind of a monster does that?”

  His hand on the back of her head tightened. “Promise me something, Amara.”

  Amara opened her eyes to see the dark chocolate pools of his, waiting for him to continue.

  “If I ever lose my way, lose my soul to this place-” he told her, his eyes fierce “-and become toxic to you or our children, promise me that you’ll end me.”

  “Dante-”

  “Promise me.”

  Her mouth trembled. “You won’t. I won’t let you.”

  He pressed his forehead to hers deeper, and they stayed silent, absorbing the dark drop of ink that swirled in their lives.

  “Any soreness?” the gynecologist asked Amara, rubb
ing cold gel over her lower abdomen.

  Amara shook her head, Dante holding her hand. “I’m feeling tired though. I don’t know if it’s everything going on mentally or because of this little one.”

  The doctor smiled. “Your body is creating another human being, Amara. It’s taxing. You need to rest more if you feel like it. In fact, I recommend you don’t get yourself in stressful situations given your risky pregnancy.”

  Amara nodded and she and Dante both looked at the screen as the wand moved over her skin, the black and white flaring to life.

  “Ah, look at that,” the doctor told them. “Do you want to know the gender? I can see it.”

  “It’s a girl, isn’t it?” Dante asked from her side, rubbing her ring.

  “Indeed it is,” the doctor confirmed, pointing to a white shape on the screen. “That’s her right there, nestled in her mother’s womb, all comfortable and safe. And she looks healthy. Congratulations.”

  Amara felt her throat lock as emotion clogged her, the reality of the life inside her crashing over her, the reality of the life that should have been there but they’d lost weighing her down. She could feel the same emotions rolling over the man at her side, his fingers flexing against her hand, his eyes surprisingly moist.

  “Could you take some pictures please?” Dante asked in a heavy voice.

  The older woman nodded. “Sure.”

  Dante looked at her, pressing their foreheads together.

  One baby there, one baby missing. Amara didn’t think that would ever not hurt.

  “How are you dealing with it, Morana?” Amara asked as they talked on video again, her with a hot chocolate in her bedroom and her friend with some wine in the living room.

  Morana sighed. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess I’m not thinking about it too much right now. It can be overwhelming, you know?”