17. Juliette
Juliette
T his was what they called shit backfiring in your face.
Wynter, Davina, and Ivy gushed over the wedding preparations while I stood there, barely keeping it together. My fingernails dug into my palms while I desperately held on to my composure.
For everyone, it was where Dante and I were always meant to end up. For me, it brought a different kind of worry.
The wedding night.
I survived it last night, but then I couldn’t remember much of it.
Maybe it had been as horrific as that night all those years ago, only I had no real way of knowing.
A cold shiver rolled down my spine each time I thought about it.
My breathing hitched and terror spread through my veins.
Some would say it served me right. I taunted and mocked, acting tough, and now I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.
“What’s going on?” Ivy asked under her breath. “You’re walking around like a zombie. It’s Emory’s party and you’re acting like it’s a funeral.”
I met her gaze, but nothing but mild curiosity met me. Even she didn’t know of my demons. She didn’t know me back then. Wynter and I met Davina and Ivy in college, but Wynter also had no idea about that night.
My ears buzzed, fear pushing adrenaline through my bloodstream and making it hard to breathe.
“She’s probably upset that Dante finally got her,” Wynter attempted, easing pliable tension with a joke. She was wrong. It was so much worse than just that. There was a reason I never went past a certain point with a boy. It brought ghosts and terror back with a vengeance.
Davina gripped my hand hard. “I know you’re upset,” she murmured.
“Liam insisted on a more formal wedding tomorrow. I tried to dissuade him, but you know how stubborn he gets.” I nodded.
I knew my father’s stubbornness very well, even though we didn’t share any genetics.
There was nothing anyone could say to stop him when that man made up his mind.
I swallowed while my heart thundered in an erratic rhythm in my chest. My stomach revolted at what was to come, and I pressed my palm against it. At this rate, I’d stroke out before tomorrow. I had to calm down.
I could get through this. Many had gone through much worse and survived. My eyes flickered to Alexei Nikolaev who stood alongside his wife. He’d survived unspeakable horrors.
His arctic-blue eyes met mine for the briefest moment. It was hard not to feel fear when that man focused on you. You never knew whether he was planning on killing you or just extracting all your secrets out.
I forced a smile, then returned my attention to my girlfriends.
“So who’s getting me a wedding dress?” I asked, my voice slightly higher pitched.
My best friends weren’t fooled but they decided to play along. The next thirty minutes were spent talking about readily available designer dresses to choose from in Nevada.
All the while my mind worked on the next man I’d hunt down and torture. I had another name—Jovanov Plotnick. He was present the night my birth parents were murdered.
A girl had to have an outlet. Right?
* * *
Two hours later, we left the party.
My stomach was in knots. A good part of the underworld now knew I was a DiLustro.
Juliette DiLustro.
It sounded foreign. Not exactly wrong, but definitely strange.
Dante opened the door of his car for me, and I slid into the passenger seat as he walked around the car and got behind the wheel. Without a word, he drove out of Emory’s driveway, the tires screeching against the pavement.
“Don’t rush back to the hotel on my account,” I said, cutting through the silence. Was he trying to kill us?
“Maybe I want to get back to the hotel and fuck my wife.”
My head snapped in his direction, my mask slipping, but I quickly reined my emotions back in. I was determined not to let anyone see past my mask. It was my shame. My burden to carry. I had survived fine so far. I was sure to survive whatever came my way next.
“Since we’re getting married tomorrow, you’ll have to wait until then,” I said quietly. His eyes darted my way and something about the way he watched me made me feel self-conscious. So I turned my head and stared out the window.
I wasn’t sure what to expect from Dante.
I knew he was eager for my body. He never hid that fact, but I couldn’t gauge his cruelty.
Would he relish in suffocating me and taking what he thought he was entitled to?
I didn’t think I’d be able to hold myself back and not kill him. And that would cause a full-blown war.
No doubt about it.
“Always taunting,” he muttered. “Always a fucking tease.”
On a normal day, I’d tell him off but I was too tired for that.
It didn’t matter. We both knew there’d be no sex tonight.
So I just shook my head and returned to staring out the window at what I could make out from the landscape.
I couldn’t see much of anything. Not that there was anything to see.
Just cacti and desert for miles and miles.
The ride to Emory’s house had been tense, but that paled in comparison to the tension that danced through the air now. I turned my head to find my unexpected husband keeping his eyes on the road, his jaw tight. His profile was all hard lines and dark expressions.
The constant buzz of the engine had my eyelids growing heavier and heavier. As I was about to doze off, I was yanked down, my face flattening against my knees, just as glass shattered.
I pinched my eyes shut as glass flew all around me.
Dante’s voice was tense. “Keep your head down.”
Bullets sprayed all around us and I turned my face to Dante. “You’re going to get hit,” I screamed.
He ignored my comment, pulling out his phone. My heart hammered in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins. The chase and gunfire gained momentum and the shots sounded closer and closer.
Dante pressed on the brakes, letting the lights of the chasing cars pass us.
Suddenly, the roles were reversed—from being chased to being the chasers.
Three SUVs were in front of us. Expertly shifting the gears, Dante pressed the gas pedal to the floor and his Bugatti sped up toward whoever had hit us.
He pulled out his gun and aimed at the first car’s tires.
Bang. Bang.
The first SUV lost control of the vehicle and smashed against the second SUV, then swerved to the side. It went tumbling, over and over, while the other SUV ended up in the ditch on the side of the road. The third SUV was on my side and Dante couldn't make a clean shot.
“Give me the gun,” I hissed, extending my hand.
His dark eyes connected with me for just a second, yet it felt like a lifetime. I held my breath, wondering if he’d trust me enough to hand me the gun. When he extended it, I took it firmly while the sign of his trust washed over me like warm honey.
“Aim at the tires, then shoot when I say,” he instructed.
I nodded, reloaded the magazine, lowered the window, then cocked the gun and aimed at the dark SUV. The back window rolled down and a face appeared. A woman’s face.
With a fur coat and hat? Jesus fucking Christ. Didn’t she know we were in Vegas and there was no snow forecasted, despite it being February? Her dark brown eyes met mine and a peculiar feeling slithered up my spine. Something was off about that woman. Creepy.
“That fucking psycho bitch,” Dante hissed. “Forget the tires. Shoot at her face.”
Without questioning him, I aimed and pulled the trigger. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Screeeech.
The SUV mirrored Dante’s maneuver and their driver slammed on the brakes. Except when it slowed behind us, he suddenly turned the wheel one hundred and eighty degrees and sped up heading the opposite way.
Adrenaline still pumping hard through our veins, the silence that followed fell like a dead weight around us. My ears buzzed and each heartbeat felt like a hammer against my ribs as I put the safety on the gun on autopilot and dropped it to the floor.
“You okay?” Dante’s voice penetrated through the buzzing in my ears and drumming of my heartbeat. He reached over and took my hand into his. My eyes lowered to our hands, his fingers interlocking with mine. “Juliette, answer me.”
Peeling my gaze from his hand holding mine, I answered in one breath. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Our gazes met and chaotic emotions ran through me.
“When I get my hands on that woman—” Rage coated Dante’s words.
“You know her?” I asked, my gaze flicking back to the rearview mirror.
“Yes.”
“Who is she?” I kept glancing through the shattered glass that used to be the back window, worried the SUV would come back. I couldn’t help my paranoia.
“Sofia Volkov.”
I froze, disbelief washing over me.
The woman I’d been searching for had slipped through my fingers.
* * *
The next few hours passed in a blur.
The DiLustros and my family crowded in the Bellagio suite. Mine, of course. Killian and Dad kept throwing somber-looking glances my way. I kept my expression calm and answered all of their questions.
“Why would she attack us?” Dante growled. “Unless she's declaring an all-out war.”
“The bitch is crazy enough to do exactly that,” Basilio hissed, remembering the events from two years ago.
Sofia Volkov attacked him and Wynter, landing him in the hospital.
He was lucky Wynter saved him. If she hadn’t thrown herself on top of his unconscious body, Sofia would have ended Basilio’s life.
“We need to tighten the security. This is probably not the last of Sofia Volkov.” Everyone turned to look at my father. Killian’s expression was unreadable, but something in his gaze warned me. I knew my brother well enough to know he’d try something.
“Killian, everyone’s safe and sound.” My voice must have startled everyone because their eyes darted my way.
I was the only woman in the room. Davina and Wynter preferred to get their information from their husbands and stay out of the meetings like this.
Ignoring them all, I tilted my head and studied my brother. “Promise me you won’t do anything.”
Killian’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent. Stoic.
“Your brother can take care of himself.” Of course Dad would defend him. Killian wanted to kill someone? Dad would hand him a weapon. The support aspect of it was great, but I’d be damned if I lost my brother over it.
“So can I,” I answered readily. “But you wouldn’t be okay with me chasing anyone for a vendetta. And I know Killian will try to go after her.”
Priest whistled and I narrowed my eyes on him, challenging him to say something. But all I found on his face was… approval? In fact, I could have sworn all the DiLustros looked slightly impressed. Why? It couldn’t be because I worried about my brother.
My brother slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled. “Don’t worry, Jules. I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.”
I blinked. How do I take that? It almost sounded like he knew—or suspected—of my extracurricular activities.
“Everything will be okay.” Dad placed a tentative hand on my arm.
“Don’t worry. I’ll never let anything happen to you or Killian.
” I gave him a flat smile. I loved my dad, but sometimes he was too blind.
Despite his calm demeanor, I could detect a hint of fury in his eyes.
There was no sense adding fuel to his worry, so I just accepted his explanation.
“Go to bed and get some rest, Jules. We’ll work out security details and be right behind you.
Tomorrow is a big day for everyone, but mostly for you. ”
A shudder rippled down my spine. It was all I needed to hear to be reminded of my impending doom.
My eyes strayed toward Dante, who looked remarkably composed. If he was worried about what had just happened, you couldn’t tell by his expression.
“Okay,” I said. My voice sounded strange to my ears. Almost resigned. Low and tired. “Good night.”
I headed to my room. Tomorrow would require the patience of a saint.
And God knew, I wasn’t a saint.