48. Dante
Dante
P ain wrapped around my throat and refused to let go.
I’d had some shitty moments in my life. Even my childhood didn’t come close to this pain.
The skin on my back itched at the memories. Whack.
The way the belt would swish through the air before it slashed across my back. The cold air against the raw skin.
“You’re just like your papà,” Mamma hissed, her eyes hateful and full of anger. At me. At Christian. “Confess your sins. Both of you are children of the devil.”
Then she made us go to Sunday mass again, but afterward, she made us repent. For what, I didn’t know.
She grabbed my shoulders and shook me so hard, it gave me whiplash. The world blurred and my teeth rattled.
All the while I clutched the little toy car my grandpa gave me. He was Mamma’s papà, but he was good. Kind. Nothing like Mamma. But I shouldn’t have brought it along. I knew better. Even my little brother knew. He warned me to leave it at home.
Except I loved it so much, I wanted to keep it with me.
Mamma snatched the toy out of my hands and threw it across the sanctuary. It hit the wall and pieces flew into the air, skidding across the floor.
Then Mamma shoved me back onto my knees. Pain shot through my thighs and I whimpered. Whether in pain or for the toy, I didn’t know.
Whack.
Another slash across my back and my eyes blurred. I refused to cry, but a tear made its way down my cheek. I felt Christian’s sad blue eyes on me. He bit his lip so hard, blood trickled down his chin.
He knew his turn was coming, but I wanted to spare him. I wanted to keep Mamma away from him. She always hit him harder and his back was still raw from the last whipping.
It was my job to protect him. He was younger than me.
She turned her attention his way and I reacted without thinking.
“I’m going to tell Grandpa you broke the car he gave me,” I blurted out, my voice shaking. “He’ll put you in time-out.”
My body twisted, and I saw it coming. I didn’t cower nor did I try to block it. She backhanded me so hard that I saw stars. The next hit I didn’t expect. My head slammed against the corner of the altar and everything went back.
Yeah, our mother—correction, my mother—loved her church time. But she loved her belt even more.
I shook my head, chasing the memories away. She didn’t deserve my memories. She’d taken enough from Priest and me.
But still, I couldn’t help but compare the ache in my chest to the beatings Mamma used to put us through. That was a fucking fairy tale compared to this agony.
She hates me. The knowledge punched me in the chest and connected with my ribs. It was so violent that I swore a crack sounded in the room. I love her and she fucking hates me . I’d beg for forgiveness on my knees, but she’d probably laugh in my fucking face.
My phone rang and I answered it without looking. “DiLustro.”
“What in the fuck happened?” It was my brother. Fuck, I should have looked at caller ID.
“Yes, what happened?” Basilio chimed in. “We thought she fucking shot you.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was certain that Juliette had wanted to shoot me. I wondered what held her back from slicing my throat.
“No such luck.” I laughed bitterly. Truth of the matter was that she might as well have killed me. I couldn’t live without her.
“Where is she?” Basilio asked.
“Unless she gave my Rover to someone else, she’s driving around Chicago.” It was quite possible she’d ask someone to get in my car and drive around while she ran. I never knew what to expect from my wife. “I told her if she leaves the city, I’d start a war.”
“Jesus Christ,” Priest grumbled. “I told you it was a bad idea.”
“Agreed. We fucking told you,” Basilio said.
Of course, my brother and cousins couldn’t wait to taunt me with those four words. I told you so.
“If Juliette calls Wynter, my wife will go ballistic,” Basilio added. “She’ll demand your balls or she’ll have mine.”
“Then give her your balls,” I remarked dryly. “And please, spare me your shit,” I said.
My words tasted bitter and I hadn’t even started drinking. I was too busy refreshing that fucking tracking app, ensuring she stayed within the city limits. One step outside Chicago and all hell would break loose. She was mine and the only air she would breathe was in my city.
“I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on her,” Basilio mumbled. “The girl barely spares you a glance and you’re chasing her like she’s your salvation.”
I gritted my teeth. “Maybe she is.”
“If she’s your salvation, we’re all fucked,” Basilio noted.
“You are not helpful at all. Why don’t you fuck off and call someone else for your three-way conference call.”
“She’s actually fun,” Priest came to her defense, making me smile. Juliette had inched her way into his heart. “She hides her kindness and fierce convictions under thorns.”
“Well, that sounds familiar,” Basilio retorted dryly. After all, we—DiLustros—were experts at it. “Then I am happy to have her in our family.”
“You better, cousin, because she’s not going anywhere.”
I ended the call, then stood there for several minutes, stunned by the silence and emptiness that remained behind. I always knew Juliette would turn me into a pussy-whipped wimp without even trying.
Everyone thought it was her refusal that made me want more.
It wasn’t.
It was her fire. Her strength that she hid under her reckless behavior. Her fucking glowing smiles. And then her vulnerability. It made an appearance when she thought nobody was looking.
I saw it in the little girl I saved ten years ago. I saw it in the same girl, now grown. My wife.
Juliette didn’t realize it but every time we were together, despite her glaring displeasure at seeing me, she’d helped me heal. Maybe it was the masochist in me but being around her helped me heal from things she didn’t break.
Things that both my brother and I hid from the world.
“Mr. DiLustro.”
The maid’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Yes.”
“You have a visitor. Is it okay to bring him here?”
I frowned. Who would be visiting unannounced? The only people who ever did that were my cousins and my brother. And they never waited for the maid to answer the door.
“Yes.” I unbuttoned my jacket to ensure I had easy access to my gun. Footsteps sounded, approaching closer. The door opened and surprise washed over me. “Kian?”
Of all the potential visitors I could have had, he was the last one I expected.
We barely exchanged a few words back in Las Vegas.
I usually kept to the Syndicate when it came to business dealings.
Once in a while I ventured outside of it like I had with Alessio.
But that business relationship made sense.
I had my shipments coming from the north through his territory.
Correction, no longer his territory, since he’d gotten out of the mafia business.
“I hope you don’t mind the visit,” he said, taking my extended hand.
“Just surprised is more like it.” It wasn’t the best time but I kept that one to myself. “To what do I owe this visit?”
He pulled out a yellow envelope and handed it to me. My eyebrows scrunched.
“What is this?” I questioned.
“Insurance that your wife gets out alive,” he answered. When I gave him a blank look, he shook his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised she hides her extracurricular activities from you.”
Dread pooled in my stomach.
“Explain.”
He smiled coldly. “Your wife has been hunting.” When I gave him a confused look, he continued, “She’s been searching for the killers of her birth parents and picking them off, one by one.”
“What?” It couldn’t be. Juliette had a temper but she wasn’t a killer. The image of the dick painted in blood flashed through my mind. Maybe—
I shook my head. “How would she even connect with you?”
I hated the jealousy in my voice. If Juliette wanted to kill and hunt her parents’ killers, she should have come to me.
“About a year ago, she reached out to my agency. I assume the reference came from our mutual friend.”
“Who is…?” I questioned.
“Branka Nikolaev or her friend, Autumn. They are sisters-in-law now.”
The jealousy still didn’t go away. Fuck!
I opened the envelope and started reading the report. With each passing second, worry grew. “Juliette’s family—birth family—helped the old-man Brennan get Sofia Volkov’s daughter?”
Kian nodded. “To say Sofia has it out for Juliette is probably an understatement.”
I continued reading and the piece of information I saw next sent an even bigger shock through me. “Does Juliette know about this?”
Kian stood up, and headed to the door. He stopped with a hand on the knob and turned to me, his gaze locking with mine.
“About her grandfather, I’m not sure, but about her friend… if she doesn’t yet, she will soon.”
He left, but the dread stayed behind. It felt heavy and tasted like copper.
My cell phone rang again but I ignored it. The moment the ringing died off, it resumed and I glanced exasperatedly at the caller ID expecting my annoying family.
It wasn’t. It was a local Chicago number.
My brows furrowed as I picked it up. “Yeah?”
“Mr. DiLustro?”
“Yes.”
“Hello, this is Alissa from The Ritz-Carlton. Your wife is here—” Everything after that was fuzzy. I authorized whatever charges Juliette ran, barking for them to keep her in their best suite. Still on the phone, I jumped into my Bugatti and sped through the city.
I probably violated every single traffic law, but I didn’t give a shit.
There was no doubt in my mind that she didn’t want to see me. But I had to see her. Just a glimpse. To ensure she was okay. I’d get a room next to her or sleep in the car. It didn’t matter.
As long as I was close to her.
Entering the lavish lobby, I was immediately recognized. Not bothering to check in, I headed for the elevators. I instructed the personnel on the phone to provide the best suite, so that would be the Presidential Suite.
“Mr. DiLustro,” came a female voice from behind me as I pushed the elevator button. I didn’t bother acknowledging the woman. I pressed the button again, over and over. Patience wasn’t my virtue. Not unless Juliette was involved. “Mr. DiLustro, I just need to tell you something.”
“Then say it,” I grumbled.
“Your wife instructed us to feed a homeless shelter for a month. Put all their charges on your card. Clothes. Night at the hotel if they need it. Spa. Anything, she said.”
I stilled. “How much?”
She swallowed, panic crossing her expression. “Little over five hundred thousand. But your wife insisted.”
A sardonic breath escaped me. I guess I should be grateful the damage was this minimal.
“I-is that okay?”
The elevator door opened and I entered it.
“Whatever my wife wants, you give it to her,” I instructed as the elevator door shut. My nerves twisted as the soft whirring sounds of the engine pulled me closer to the woman I love.
Ding.
The elevator slid open and I stepped into the hallway.
My nerves pulled tighter as I made my way to the door of the Presidential Suite. My hand trembled as I lifted it to knock on the door. It froze midair as I heard a soft noise. I held my breath, listening for it. Nothing.
I pressed my ear to the door and I heard it again. A muffled noise that sounded almost like… sobbing.
“Wildling,” I called through the door.
Silence followed. No answer.
“Juliette, answer me,” I demanded softly. My heart clenched in my chest as I worried about her. The idea of her crying made me want to tear the door down. Good God, my wife was making a wuss out of me. Even worse, I didn’t give a shit.
Without her and her happiness, this life wasn’t worth living.
“Go away.” Her voice was clear. Strong. Yet there was a hint of a tremor in it.
“Open this door.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” she snapped. “Go away.”
I took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “I don’t want to argue. I just want to see that you’re alright, then I’ll leave.”
Silence. No movement. No other words. Nothing, like I wasn’t even here. So typical of Juliette to ignore me.
“Wildling, I’ll give you ten seconds to open this door before I break it down.”
“Go away, Dante,” she hissed. “I don’t want to see you. I’m fine, but I’d be better if you were nowhere to be seen or heard.”
Goddamn it! Why was she so fucking stubborn?
“One, two, three—” I started counting. If the silence on the other side of the door was any indication, she hadn’t moved. “—nine, ten. I’m coming in.”
“Don’t you dare—”
Her sentence was cut off when I kicked the door open.