Chapter Ten
One Week Later
Dante sat in Phillip’s home office, drinking some of the whiskey. He took a sip and knew it wasn’t a very good brand. The cheap fuck couldn’t even splurge on great whiskey. Still, he finished the glass and then tipped the rest of the bottle out onto the floor, before tossing it across the room toward the unlit fire.
Lifting his feet onto the desk, he had the gun in his hand, which he rested on his thigh, and waited. He knew the exact moment Phillip arrived home, and he waited rather excitedly as the bastard entered his own home.
The lights were off. Dante had already taken out the electricity. Now all he needed to do was wait.
Leaning forward, he clicked the flashlight app on his cell phone to light up the room.
It didn’t take long for Phillip to walk into his office. He had a gun drawn as well, but Dante saw the fear in his eyes.
“Hello, Phillip,” Dante said.
“I don’t recall extending an invitation to you.”
“Consider this an unexpected visit,” Dante said. “I’d offer you a drink, but your tastes are cheap, and I kind of wasted the bottle to see if it would at least clean your carpet, but alas, it did not. Stinks, though.” Dante leaned back and looked over at the man who’d helped to create Aria.
He didn’t know how this fucking bastard had anything to do in creating his wife. Aria was perfect. This evil fuck was not.
“If you have come to make some kind of deal, then—”
“I don’t need to make a deal with a dead man.”
This stopped Phillip in his tracks. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“Yes, and it would seem so does Pesci himself.” Dante laughed. “You didn’t think all those years of manipulating, hurting men and women, would catch up with you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“How’s your sister?” Dante asked.
This froze Phillip into place.
“Or more importantly, how is her husband?” Dante tutted. “It is kind of funny, actually. You would have gotten away with everything, but I thought I would show you exactly where you went wrong.” He pulled up the picture, scrunched it up, and tossed it across the room.
It hit Phillip square in the chest, and he didn’t look at all happy about this.
Dante tutted. “Don’t worry, I gave a little diagram.” The image showed Dante and Constance together, but Phillip had been that intent on getting his blackmailing goods, he hadn’t considered the mirror that showed his very reflection. He’d circled the image and had it blown up, and that was how Dante had known it was all a setup.
He’d filled in the dots with Constance confirming everything. Pesci had given him permission to take care of him.
Phillip pulled his gun. “My father wouldn’t accept this. He knows what I am capable of.”
Dante smiled. “Pesci is the one who has said your family will be protected. Your wife, your son, and your two daughters will be safe. If your son shows any signs of following in your footsteps, he will be taken care of as well. As for you, it would seem Pesci has been waiting for the right moment to deal with you.”
“Where is my son?” Phillip asked.
“I believe he is spending some time with your father.”
Dante saw the twitch in his eye. “Is this sad news to you, Phillip? Your own father would rather spend time with your son than with you.”
Phillip raised his gun but Dante already aimed and took out a knee. His next shot took care of his hand, so he wouldn’t be able to use the gun. He rose to his feet, rounded the desk, and perched on the end of it.
Much to his surprise, after the screaming abated, Phillip started to laugh. “Tell me, how did you get it? I had it locked up tight.”
Dante looked into Phillip’s eyes and smiled. “Aria got it for me.”
“No,” Phillip said. “She wouldn’t.”
“She wanted to be free of you and the only way to do that was to find the evidence you had on me.”
“And you’re going to kill me. Aria loves her father.”
This time, Dante laughed. “No, Aria hates her father. But don’t worry, Phillip, because I love your daughter, and while you’re rotting away in hell, I’ll take care of her.”
He shot Phillip right between the eyes.
The deed was done. He’d gone to Pesci, who stepped out of the shadows. “It’s done,” Pesci said.
Dante looked toward The Boss. Considering how old the man was, he looked … sprightly.
“Yes, it’s done,” Dante said.
Pesci had told him he could take care of Phillip, on one provis o— he was there to see it happen.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dante asked.
“You can ask. I may not grant you a response.”
“Why didn’t you take care of Phillip before now? If he was causing you a number of problems.”
Phillips obsession with blackmail and manipulation had started to cause the family many problems. The first being Constance’s husband. His family were not happy with the information that it was enemy fire, and with no retaliation, it had caused many waves, with the whispers of war coming far and wide.
Men and women that had been killed because of Phillip, cleaning up the messes. Phillip had long stopped being an ally, and instead became a problem that needed to be fixed.
Dante understood this.
“When you have a child of your own one day, you will understand the trouble that comes from having to make tough decisions. It is not always easy to do what needs to be done.”
A child.
He couldn’t help but think about his wife back home.
In the past week, he had left her alone to deal with this. After organizing a meeting with Pesci, it hadn’t been a quick meeting either. The man was constantly busy with family affairs and the like.
After Dante had brought him the evidence he needed, Pesci had been furious. To find out his own son had blackmailed and used his daughter like a whore. Pesci had wanted to kill him, but Dante was given that privilege.
Pesci set about dealing with Phillip’s family, and now Dante needed to go home to deal with his wife.
****
Aria was used to not seeing Dante for weeks at a time. At least in the past she had been used to it. She hadn’t seen him the last week, and there hadn’t been any mention of a divorce, or any sign of him.
Bent over the bathroom toilet, she threw up for the fourth time that week. Closing the lid, she flushed the toilet and then collapsed to the floor. Perspiration dotted her brow, but she knew why this was happening.
Morning sickness.
She woke up with it, and after a horrible hour or two, she’d settle her stomach with some toast, and the rest of the day was fine. More than fine. She was pregnant. She hadn’t taken a test, at least not yet.
This couldn’t have come at a worse time. Dante was going to be free and now she had their child on the way. Why did life have to be so cruel?
She laid on the floor, like she had the past couple of mornings, and waited for the sickness to abate. It always took time and until it did pass, she could do no more than sit on the floor and wait it out. The minutes ticked by, and finally the sickness left her, and she was able to get to her feet.
She felt flushed, and moved toward the sink, splashing some cold water onto her face, in an attempt to clear the fog from her mind. After waking herself up, she grabbed her toothbrush and started to clean her teeth.
Once that was done, she ran a brush through her hair and felt a little human. The only thing that was going to settle her stomach was toast. She could no longer drink her regular morning cup of coffee.
She stepped into the dining room, only to come to a stop when she caught sight of Dante, paper in hand, sitting at the breakfast table.
She was reminded of all those weeks ago when he’d still been at home, reading his paper, after they had performed their duties.
Was this where he would give her the divorce?
Was this where her heart would finally be broken?
The temptation to turn and flee was so strong, but instead she forced herself to move one foot in front of the other, until she was able to sit down at the table. She reached for the toast, taking a bite out of it, hoping it would settle her stomach and do its wonders fast.
“Good morning,” Dante said.
“Morning.” She took another bite of her toast.
She waited for him to speak, to present her with the divorce papers, to ruin her whole world by finally ending their marriage.
You can take it. Dante was never going to be yours. He is not yours.
Dante cleared his throat, folded up his paper, and turned toward her. “I have something to tell you.”
Aria waited, holding onto her toast as if it was some kind of lifeline. She waited.
“Your father is dead,” Dante said. “It would appear I was not the only person caught in Phillip’s web. He made a lot of enemies, and he used your aunt to his advantage. Also, I won’t be divorcing you.”
Aria opened her mouth and closed it, a little taken aback by what she had heard. “What?”
“You heard me. Which part do you need me to be clear about?” he asked.
“You … but you want a divorce?” She felt her heart breaking as she said the words.
“No, I don’t want a divorce. In fact, it’s the very last thing I want. You see, in the beginning, I hated you. It was easier to hate you because you were Phillip’s daughter. Only, you’re not like Phillip, and I don’t know what you did, Aria, but you’ve done something to me, you see, I’ve never felt like this, and I know I’m never going to feel this way about anyone ever again.”
Aria was confused and then Dante reached across the table and took hold of her hand. “I am in love with you.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Don’t ask me how it happened. It just did, and now that I am in love with you, there is no one else I want more than you. You’re the woman I love, Aria. I don’t give a shit what your dad did before. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to grow old with you. I don’t expect you to love me—”
Aria pushed her chair back, and then went to him, cupping his face. “I do love you.” And with that, she kissed him, hard.
For the first time in the last week, Dante wrapped his arms around her, and in that moment, Aria knew everything was going to be okay. She had Dante. He loved her. She wasn’t expecting his love, but she would gladly take it.
“I love you,” she said in between kisses, and then she realized she had to tell him the truth. Pulling back, she looked him in the eye. “I’m pregnant.”
She didn’t know if that was going to change anything, but the smile on his face told her this was good news. “I’ve not taken a test or anything, but I have morning sickness. We’re going to have a baby,” she said.
“We’re going to have lots of babies,” Dante said.
“You know, people are going to talk … are you sure you can handle that?”
“I don’t give a fuck what other people say or think, Aria, and neither should you. You’re my wife, and no one is going to take you away from me.”