Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Tatiana
After the stunt Dante pulled with the contract, I avoid him as much as possible. He asks Jazz to stay until the wedding, which is already happening next week, offering—or rather, ordering—her the position of bridesmaid.
I told her about the prenuptial agreement and how efficiently my hands are tied.
She’s been nothing but sympathetic and supportive.
I think that’s the real reason Dante wants her around.
He’s not worried about her shooting off her mouth because he’ll just end the life of any person who opposes his plans.
He probably knows I would’ve gone out of my mind without Jazz’s company.
She always has my back, but lately, she’s been pointing out all Dante’s not-so-evil characteristics.
Sure, he’s a model dad, and I can’t fault him for taking care of Jazz’s, Noah’s, and my physical needs.
But inside, he’s still the same monster that showed its true nature on the night he murdered my parents.
Jazz is just trying to make me feel better as I don’t have a choice but to do as Dante dictates.
The days are warm, so when Dante is out, I play with Noah in the pool. True to his word, Dante had a fence with a gate installed. Only he and I have a key. Jazz doesn’t like water, so she never goes swimming with us.
Of course, Noah is in his element with his new home and big garden. He has a whole collection of stuffed toys now, thanks to Dante, but the dinosaur remains his favorite. It’s been his friend through many hard years, and he’s more attached to it than any other toy.
Dante employed a cleaning company that comes in twice a week. He asked if I wanted to interview a housekeeper and a cook, but I prefer to take care of those chores myself. Jazz helps, and keeping busy prevents me from going crazy.
When it comes to the running of the household, Dante makes the rules.
He leaves for the office at the crack of dawn but comes home early to play soccer and other games with Noah.
As per his instruction, we have dinner together as a family at seven sharp.
He always helps with tidying the kitchen, and he never misses out on Noah’s bedtime story.
Noah has grown used to both Dante and me tucking him in.
To be honest, my son is thriving on the attention.
He’s more extroverted and chattier than usual.
When Jazz and I are busy during the day, he plays soccer with Dante’s men.
I have a suspicion that some of them are on duty for that reason only, especially Ted.
The ones who patrol the perimeters of the property and stand guard at the gates are never distracted, but there are always a couple of men readily available to act as goalkeeper or to teach Noah new tricks.
The toughest part of the day is after dinner.
It’s when Dante and I are alone in his room and he strips me naked from the waist down.
It’s when he brings me pleasure and my body betrays me.
Sometimes, he spanks me with his hand or his belt.
Sometimes, he fucks my ass. But every night, he asks me to strip completely and show him my breasts.
Every night, without fail, he asks to kiss me, and every night, my answer is the same.
Never.
I’ll never show him my scars. He can never know why my back is marred beyond recognition. As for my kisses, Dante no longer deserves them. I’ll never be the stupid girl who fell for his lies again. This time, I’m protecting my heart.
All the while, the clock ticks on toward our wedding day.
As Dante isn’t making any arrangements, I reckon we’ll get married in front of a magistrate and have a quiet dinner with Noah and Jazz at the house.
My tension grows as the day gets closer, but on the upside, it means Jazz will be able to leave and finally go back to her own life.
Two days before D-day, Dante comes home extra early. It’s so unusual for him to break his routine that I’m instantly nervous when he walks into the modern kitchen with its black marble counters and stainless steel shelves. He’s still dressed in the dark suit and shirt he wore to the office.
I glance at him from under my eyelashes where I’m stirring tomato sauce in a pot on the stove. He’s lost the tie. The top buttons of the shirt are open, hinting at the hard chest and ink beneath.
He saunters over to Noah, who’s sitting at the table and drawing pictures of families with moms, dads, and kids, and kisses the top of his head. “Hey, buddy. What have you been up to today?”
“Look.” Noah turns the drawing around for Dante to see. He presses a finger on each of the stick men and women that stand in front of a black house. “That’s you, that’s Mommy, and that’s me. And that’s Jazz.” He points at a brown four-legged animal that resembles a donkey. “And that’s my dog.”
“Mm.” Dante leans over Noah for a better look. “A dog, huh? I guess we better get you one then.” He looks at me. “If your mom agrees.”
It’s a bit late to ask for my approval when he’s already made Noah excited by telling him he could have one.
“Can I?” Noah’s eyes grow to the size of saucers. “Please, Mommy? Please?”
“Your—” I don’t know why I can’t say it. Maybe it feels too intimate, too much like a real family. “Dante and I will talk about it, sweetheart.”
Noah turns a serious expression on Dante.
“Mommy said I couldn’t have a dog because we were moving too much, and we couldn’t afford to buy it food.
” Noah focuses on me, his question hopeful.
“But we’re not moving again, are we?” He adds in rapid-fire succession, “And Jazz says there’s enough food in the fridge to feed an army. ”
The uncertainty on his little face is like a spear through my heart.
Dante chuckles. “If we’re moving anywhere, we’re all going together. We can definitely afford adoption, food, and proper veterinary care. But like your mother said, we’ll discuss it first.”
“Please, Daddy.” Noah gives him one of his innocent smiles. “I really want a dog.”
And if Dante said he’ll get one, he will, no matter what I say. Not that I’ll object. I’ve always wanted that for Noah. After Leander ran over my cat, I was too scared to have more pets. I didn’t want another animal to suffer the same fate. I always envied my friends who had dogs and cats.
“Do you know how to care for one?” Dante asks.
Noah shakes his head.
“Then you’ve got a lot to learn first. Maybe you should make a drawing of everything you think a dog may need.”
Clutching a crayon in his hand, Noah scratches his head. “A bowl for food and a ball to play with.”
Dante puts a hand on his shoulder. “And a leash to walk on and a bed to sleep in.”
“And a bowl for water,” Noah adds excitedly.
“You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
Noah pulls a clean sheet of paper closer. He starts drawing with enthusiasm while Dante watches.
Not looking up from Noah’s drawing, Dante asks, “Where’s Jazz?”
I add a pinch of oregano to the sauce. “She’s taking a nap.”
“Let’s go for a drive.”
He says that too casually.
I switch off the plate and wipe my hands on the apron tied around my waist. “Why?”
He takes in the nervous action, following my movements with his gaze. “I’m taking you to the condo.”
My heart slams to a stop. Miraculously, I manage to keep my voice even. “Why?”
Leaning against the table next to Noah, he shoves his hands in his pockets and crosses his ankles. “I’m sure you’d like to grab a few of your personal belongings. All your clothes are still there.” His gaze drills into mine, pinning me in place. “I haven’t touched a thing.”
My pulse accelerates. “I don’t need my old clothes.”
He raises a brow. “Not even your jewelry or make-up? That metal case in which you kept your war paints and brushes must’ve weighed a ton.” His lips quirk. “If I remember correctly, you were inseparable from that trunk.”
The fact that he remembers that makes my cheeks heat. That my make-up had once been the most important thing in my life sounds so juvenile now.
I sometimes think about those times when my worst worry was deciding what to wear in the morning, especially when I’d secretly meet Dante.
Sometimes, when the doorman had gone off duty, I’d open the door to the street and sneak Dante into my bedroom.
I knew where the cameras and the blind spots were.
We’d make out in the darkness of my room, high on desire and nerves that my mom or dad would hear us.
The forbidden aspect of our relationship amplified each emotion and every touch.
We were like Romeo and Juliet, or that’s what I liked to think.
Dante often made me come. He spread my legs and buried his head between them while clamping a hand over my mouth so my parents wouldn’t hear my screams. He’d feel his way along my body, getting to know all my sensitive spots in the darkness.
We didn’t dare switch on the light. I was supposed to be asleep, and Mom often got up for a drink of water in the night.
But mostly, I’d sneak out to meet him. I was always a model child.
I obeyed my parents and never caused trouble.
That was only one of the many reasons why Leander resented me.
My good behavior won me some freedom. My father trusted me because I never rebelled like Leander.
I kept my mouth shut and did what I was told to do.
My father would let me go out without a guard as long as I respected the curfews he imposed.
So I told them I was going to Jazz’s house, which was in the same neighborhood.
Dante would always wait for me just around the corner.
He’d follow me to where he’d parked his car a few blocks down the road because he liked to make sure I was safe.
Even when it was freezing cold, he’d never wait in his car.
He’d always be right there, like my own shadow.