Chapter 34
DANTE
I’m holding her as she quietly snores against my chest in her bed, her bedroom is a disaster once again. It was only two days ago that I cleaned it, and for someone who barely leaves the house and is wearing the same shit while painting, I don’t know how so many clothes end up on the floor.
My eye twitches at the empty snack wrappers that have clearly missed the trash can.
I don't know why she's eating such junk when I made sure she had plenty of pre-made meals. But at least she’s eating. I push back a lock of her black hair. Some of her natural red is starting to show at the roots, and I wonder what it would look like if she were to grow it back out. Not that it matters what color her hair is—she’ll always be beautiful to me.
However, I feel like this black-haired edge to her is here to stay for a while.
Her phone vibrates, and I can’t help but be curious, so I lean over to check it. I’m still not a good man, and that will never change.
It’s a text message from Sienna, checking up on her.
I use her Face ID to unlock the phone and notice that most of her responses are short and somewhat vague, when she bothers to respond at all.
Yet I know how deeply Romi cares for her friends.
All this time she’s been pushing them away, and I wonder if she’s scared that they’ll leave her just as Lorraine did.
Or maybe she didn’t want them to get too close while she was self-destructing.
I reply, suggesting Sienna come over for the day.
I know Romi is focusing on her art, and she’ll be pissed when she realizes I was the one who added the gentle nudge, but she needs her friends right now, even if she struggles to ask them for help.
She needs to be reminded that she’s not alone, even though she’s done everything up until this point to isolate herself.
As I scan back through the texts, it becomes painstakingly obvious that I haven’t come up in discussion once. That just tears at my ego.
I scroll through her contacts and delete every male name I find. I then pause, contemplating deleting every woman’s number as well since Romi appreciates both genders.
Instead, I do the next best thing to stake my claim.
I go into her Instagram and then angle the camera so my bandage isn’t visible.
Then I put on my best shit-eating grin, forming that perfect dimple.
And despite how tired I am and my disheveled state, I look fucking perfect.
And so does she, sleeping soundly in my arms.
I shift the angle a little more so no one can actually see her sleeping face. That’s only for me to see. I take the photo, upload it with the caption Soft launch, and then post it. I then make her follow my account back, considering I only created a profile so I could follow her.
She's going to rage at me for this, and I can’t wait. Not only am I marking my territory, but I’m also hoping it brings Romi back to living in her world. I don’t care for social media, but it’s important to her career.
The circulation about her assaulting her friend's mother has died down, and that’s most likely from Romi’s parents' influence. This will give her fans something else to focus on. At least that’s how I justify it in my head. I’m just a selfish bastard letting the world know she's mine.
I steal a few more minutes of bliss, scratching Borris under the chin, before sliding out of bed and getting ready for work. Andrei has put up a good fight, but he’s slowly leaking the information we need.
I only wanted to come back for a few hours to check on her, and my time here is now up.
“Her name's Frances Twin,” Izak says when I return to Balmere. Andrei is clinging to life by a thread. Despite his current circumstances, he’s stubbornly tight-lipped.
But when we discuss his sister in front of him, he starts playing a different tune.
It’s not uncommon for those in this situation to fight for the ones they love, and I’ll use any means necessary to get what I want.
Izak offers me the file on the sister. The two hardly resemble one another. She’s a kindergarten teacher, and looks as if she lives an ordinary life with a monotonous routine.
“Sh-she has n-nothing to do with this,” Andrei stammers, barely conscious. “I d-don’t even know my s-sister, you… dumbasses,” he forces out from the chair he’s now chained to.
The door opens, and I look up from the file to see Kage and Tyson, who enter with Luca behind them. The three of them had personally inspected Andrei’s home.
“As we suspected, his house is full of little handmade bombs,” Tyson reports.
“Oooh, did you bring some back so I can study them?” Izak asks, sounding a little too excited.
Tyson shrugs off the backpack he walked in with and hands it over. Although I can’t see Izak's expression behind the mask, I can sense he’s absolutely elated.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Sky demands.
“Relax, it’s not going to detonate… I don’t think,” Tyson replies.
Izak is already too far gone in his excitement to reply, being elbow deep in the bag. From his response, we all breathe a little easier.
“Any update here?” Luca demands. I hate not having all the answers. I hate how fucking long it's taking to pin down one fucking man. Yet slowly we’re killing off his followers. We simply need to cut the head off.
I hand Luca the file on Frances’ Twin. He scans over it.
“Leave us,” he commands the hounds, and they immediately vacate the room. “This is taking too long.”
Luca looks at Andrei, who’s been tortured and revived so many times he's barely a shell. The fact of the matter is, after all these days, he really might not know much about this Fyodor Novikov.
“There’s been no form of retaliation from your stunt in Italy either,” Luca says, unsatisfied, referring to the group of Bratva members I’d killed before flying over. We'd hoped it would draw their attention to me and use me as bait in Manhattan, but besides Novikov, no one else has appeared.
I shouldn’t want a war with the Bratva, but it sounds like a lot of fun.
But if they were moving on us, they would’ve done so by now.
They were most likely testing the waters to see if investing time, money, and manpower into a territory war was worth it.
With no retaliation besides Novikov, it’s fair to say their intention thus far is clear.
The ones remaining in New York, however, are nothing but stubborn cockroaches.
Luca’s phone buzzes, and he answers. Whoever is on the phone speaks quickly.
“Now?” he demands, and for the first time ever, I see a flash of uncertainty in his gaze.
Another long pause as the other person speaks.
“I’m on my way.” He hangs up and pulls his gun out from underneath his jacket, then shoots Andrei in the head.
Blood explodes as he pins me with a lethal gaze.
“He’s useless. I want this dealt with,” he growls impatiently, and slaps the file back into my chest.
I follow him and stop alongside the hounds as he hurries up the stairs, looking like he’s on a mission.
And I know only one thing that would make him move so quickly and immediately put him on edge. I have the sense that Ara’s due date has suddenly moved up.