Chapter 18
DANTE
“I don’t fucking understand how we can’t find a bunch of old men!” Dom roars as he stands, his attention bouncing between each of our men in the basement of Vixen.
It’s early, so none of the club employees are here. It’s just my brothers and me, plus a few dozen of our men.
“It was a dead end, sir,” Reach, a new guy we hired, explains. “They were there, we know that much, but they must’ve moved to another location before we arrived.”
Reach came to us highly recommended by Damian, one of the owners of JDG Global Security, a company we use for safeguarding our events at the hotels we own. Like Damian and the other two owners of JDG, Reach is Delta Force. They all served together back then.
Four days ago, after Vincenzo told us that the Bianchis might be upstate at Faro’s cabin, we sent some of our boys there, with Enzo leading the team. But all they found were discarded cigars and beer cans.
“How can they always be a step ahead?” Dom marches around the large, bare space that’s dimly lit with ceiling lights.
“Our priority is finding all the women and children, as well as that club. We will continue to take every one of their men, and I’ll personally cut off their heads and send them to their wives if that’s what it takes for one of them to talk.
Those animals have crossed a line, and for that, they will all die. ”
“Yes, sir,” the men swear in unison, their oath resonating with both Enzo and me.
We’ll stop at nothing to free those children and anyone else they’ve held against their will. Fury consumes any shred of humanity I have left.
Will Raquel ever forgive me if I have to be the one to take her father’s life? I don’t think so.
A sudden flash of pain pounds in the center of my chest. My heart only beats for her. And once she’s gone, there’ll be nothing left of it. But what I told her was true: no matter what obstacles keep us apart, I’ll fight like hell to keep her.
She’s worth the war. Worth everything. She’s the only bright light left in the darkness. Without it, the demons inside will take over for good.
RAQUEL
For the past few days, since Dante wouldn’t allow me to call my mother, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my parents, especially my dad.
We were always closer than my mother and I were. Sure, he has a very archaic view of the world for men and women, but I’m still his little girl. He loves me.
Growing up, we sometimes talked about mundane stuff like cars, which he loves.
I think that’s why I became so interested in them when I was twelve.
I wanted more of his attention. I wanted him to be home with me more than he was out with my uncles.
But it didn’t work. Those other things were always more important.
So I was stuck with my mother most of the time.
She was never sweet or kind, like one would imagine a mother to be. She was hard, her expectations as tall as she is. I guess I took my short height from my father’s genes.
My mom not only expected perfect grades and a perfect appearance, but she always expected me to do as she wished in all aspects of my life. From the sort of job I should have to the type of man I should marry, my life was written for me the day I was born.
I guess it’s a good thing that me being a doctor was part of her plan too. She would have preferred if I became a plastic surgeon though. It was months of fighting when I announced I wasn’t doing what she wanted for once in her life. She flipped, cursing with every Italian word you can think of.
It was my father who was able to calm her. He reminded her it wasn’t the end of the world, that general surgery was also a great career path. And she got over it.
Eventually.
If it wasn’t for my father, I don’t think she ever would have. She’d probably have stopped paying for my school tuition until I saw the light. Her light, that is.
Growing up this way was rough, but I kept reminding myself that other people had it even harder. Chiara was a prime example. Everything her father put her through was unspeakable. Compared to my cousin, I’m lucky.
“Would you like some more?” Janet asks, already placing two strips of bacon on my plate, along with a cinnamon apple muffin.
I should feel an ounce of shame with the amount I’ve already eaten, but nope. I feel no such thing. Her cooking is the stuff of dreams.
“Thank you,” I say, grabbing my fork and getting some of that bacon into my salivating mouth.
“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it.” She puts some on her plate, sitting beside me. “I see things with you and Mr. Cavaleri are better these days.” She chews politely, glancing at her plate.
“They have been, yes. He’s really wonderful.” The grin falls off me easily.
“Well…” Her attention wanders to me. “I can tell you he’s never brought a woman home in the years I’ve worked here. So I’d say he thinks you’re pretty wonderful too.”
My lips tighten with a smile. It’s too bad we can’t have more. That these next couple of months are all we’ll have together.
We continue eating quietly for a few minutes, and then it hits me. There’s something she can help me with. I know Dante will be upset, but he’ll get over it. Letting my parents worry that I’m dead somewhere is wrong.
“Ugh,” I groan, throwing my fingers up to my forehead, hoping I’m a better actress than I think I am.
“What’s wrong?” Concern lines her eyes.
“I need to call my mom, and I realized I forgot to charge my very dead phone.”
“So use mine.” She places her fork down, getting up to retrieve her bag from the table across from us.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely!” She digs inside her handbag, her eyes on me. “Wouldn’t want your poor mother worried about you, now, would we?”
“No, I guess we wouldn’t.”
Shame fills my cheeks as she strolls over, handing me the cell. Dante’s house doesn’t have a home phone, and I’d obviously never ask to use a phone belonging to one of the guards.
“Thank you.” I take the cell and get to dialing my mom’s number.
It takes a few rings before her voice comes through the line.
“Hello? Who’s this?” A twinge of her famous attitude comes across.
My throat tightens. Getting off the chair, I tread over to a hallway outside the kitchen where I can talk privately.
“Um, hello?” she continues. “Who the hell is this? You’d better not be some telemarketer because, believe me, I’m going to find your ass and—”
“Mom. It’s me.”
Silence. The seconds trail by, each one like its own eternity. All I hear is her irregular breathing.
“It’s Raq—”
“Oh my God!” she finally cries. “My poor baby! Where are you? Are you hurt?”
I hear her heavy pants, the worry etched in her exhales. Worry I’ve never heard before. And I don’t quite believe it.
“You tell me where you are and I’ll come get you,” she continues. “I have your dad’s rifle. You don’t have to be scared.”
Is this a plot to get me back?
I release a heavy sigh, realizing she thinks I was kidnapped. “I’m not coming back, Mom. I left on my own. I only wanted to call so you guys knew I was okay.”
Stillness blankets her voice, as thick as I know her anger is.
“Of course you’re coming back,” she finally snaps. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not, Mom. I’ve found someone to help me get what I always wanted, and that never included marrying Carlito.”
“You ungrateful child! I don’t understand how you could do this to me!” She sniffles, every bit the drama queen as usual.
But she’s always been a better actress than I ever was.
“To you?” I snap. “This is my goddamn life!”
“How dare you…”
Her words are gone to the howling of her breaths, so sharp they could cut me. Then she clears her throat.
“You don’t have to marry him,” she throws in with desperation stealing her tone. “I promise. No more. If you really hate him that much, then we’ll figure it out. Your father and I love you. We don’t want this.”
My eyes widen, doubt slithering into my head.
“I don’t know if I believe you, Mom. You never cared how I felt before, so what’s changed now?”
“Of course I care about you, sweetie,” she huffs. “I’m your mother, and I love you. If you tell me who you’re with and what his name is, I promise I’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”
My heart clenches. She’s never spoken to me so sweetly before. Why did she have to wait so long?
But I’ve made up my mind. I can’t go back. I can’t take the risk that she’ll change her mind about Carlito.
“His name is Dante.”
There. Not like I gave her his last name. There are a ton of Dantes in New York.
She’s quiet again. Too quiet.
“Mom? You there? I can’t be on the phone long. I have to go.”
“Oh, my poor, innocent baby,” she cries. “I knew it. I knew you were with one of them. Your father and I suspected it all along.”
My body goes rigid, anxiety balling in my stomach. “What are you talking about? Do you know who I’m with?”
She can’t possibly. How could she? Dante doesn’t know my family.
She sighs before she says the words I never thought I’d hear. “Of course I do. You’re with a Cavaleri.”
Dread itches across my skin.
“Wha—” I gasp, my pulse thrashing uncontrollably in my ears, fogging over the sound of my mother’s continuing voice.
“I bet he told you he’d help you run away. Is that it? He lied, honey. He doesn’t want to help you. He hates us. His whole family does. He’s just such an evil man, and he manipulated you. He never told you any of this, did he, sweetie?”
I can’t seem to say a word. I’m caught in a trance.
“It’s okay. Don’t blame yourself. You don’t realize how many bad people there are in this world. This is why I’ve always done everything I could to protect you.”
My knees grow weak, practically giving out. He wouldn’t lie to me like that after everything we shared.
“I don’t believe you,” I choke out.
“It’s true. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but you have to know who he really is.” I hear her muffled footsteps as she shuffles around. “They’re the family after your father. They’re the reason why he can’t come home.”
Tears burn my eyes. So many of them I can barely see straight.
“You’re lying.”