58. Juliette
ONE MONTH LATER
T hree boys who started my nightmare. A single man who ended it—my husband.
Brandon Dole
Sam Dallas
Travis Xander
The Russians who destroyed my birth family.
Petar Soroko
Raslan Rugoff
Igor Bogomolov
Yan Yablochkov
Vlad Ketrov
Nikola Chekov
Jovanov Plotnick
Edward Murphy
Sofia Volkov—not yet dead, but will be very soon. One last name remained an enigma.
Dante lived up to his promise.
And it was a promise, not a threat. It had been over a month since I left his mansion and came to stay at the hotel. A month since I’d killed my best friend's father.
Dante, Kian, and his team kept the news from spreading but I knew, deep down in my gut, I knew Sofia Volkov probably watched the entire thing. And one day, she’d use it. Against me. Against our family.
I knew it was something that shouldn’t be kept from Ivy. Yet I did. She called me to tell me her father was dead and she cried. She fucking cried and I said nothing. I was the worst friend. The worst fucking person on this planet.
A knock sounded on my door and I jumped off the bed, running to it.
I swung the door open, coming face-to-face with my husband. “Now you’re knocking, huh?”
He grinned. “Anything for my bride.”
A bouquet of yellow roses and a gift.
For the past month, he came over every day armed with flowers and gifts, twice a day. He was over for breakfast and for dinner, following the routine we had when we moved in with each other after the wedding. And he always brought different yellow flowers and a gift that reminded me of something.
A full bowl of pink scrunchies wrapped with a pink bow. The deed to his casino, which I refused to accept and he refused to take back. Jewelry. A brand-new knife.
“It’s sharper and easier to use,” he stated, then offered to practice with me.
Then he gifted me a pink crystal-covered handgun of all things, then took me to a gun range where we practiced shooting.
I set the flowers into the vase that I already had waiting for them. He’d spoiled me now. If he ever showed up without flowers, I’d think something was wrong and he no longer loved me. It’d kill me.
My movements froze.
Holy fuck! It’d kill me. I needed his love, but he also needed mine. Slowly, I turned around meeting his eyes and the flowers were forgotten.
He loves me and I love him.
Those words whispered over and over again. He loves me. The words I never wanted him to retract. The words I never acknowledged. More importantly, I loved him. So fucking much that it blinded me.
He handed me the gift. “Don’t buy me any more gifts,” I scolded him for the millionth time. I didn’t care about the expensive gifts. The small ones hit me in the chest. I tore the wrapping off the box and a small gasp tore from my lips.
It was a toy. A toy car that mirrored the one I smashed—and had repaired—but instead of it being empty, there were two little figures sitting in it.
“You and I,” he rasped. “Driving into the sunset.”
My resolve weakened. It evaporated into the atmosphere. Our gazes met and so many emotions flickered in his that my chest squeezed until I thought it would burst.
I struggled to forgive him for drugging me, but I suffered right alongside him. I wanted so badly to trust him. To never doubt him. My reason said he wouldn’t do something like that again, but my heart feared. It barricaded itself so he wouldn’t disappoint me.
“What if you don’t get something you want from me again?” I blurted out my worries. “How can I be sure you won’t force it on me?” I needed to know. “Like, what about babies? Will you switch my birth control if I say I don’t want them?”
“Juliette.” Dante’s voice cracked. He fell down onto his knees and his big hands came to my hips, pulling me to him. The hope in his eyes cracked my heart. “The only thing I want is you. Just you. I will never—fucking ever—do anything to hurt you again.”
There was such raw emotion in his voice that goose bumps rose on my skin. He bared his soul, letting me see it in his eyes. Every single fragile piece.
I might be a fool, but I believed him. I fell down to my knees, putting my gift next to us, and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. His scent drove shudders of desire and so much love through me that I thought I’d burst.
I love him. I loved him so fucking much that it hurt. Maybe I fell for him when he killed Travis for me. Or maybe when I was a little girl and he was a tall, handsome boy who rescued me. I didn’t know. I didn’t care.
All I knew was that I couldn’t live without him. He felt right. He drove me nuts, but he also made me feel safe.
I didn’t care how long I’d loved him, I just knew that I did. My nights were lonely without him. The bed was too cold.
“You’re a jackass for drugging me, but you’re nothing like the ones that hurt me,” I murmured, cupping his face.
His face hardened and the darkness that plagued all the men of the underworld flickered across his expression. Unforgiving and hard.
“I’d kill them all over again,” he rasped, and I knew he would. That was who Dante was. Relentless and stubborn, almost to a fault. “I just want to make you happy.”
My pulse accelerated as we drowned in each other’s gazes. A tear rolled down my cheek, then another one.
“I love you,” I whispered. There were so many feelings dancing in my lungs, bouncing off the walls. “So fucking much that it scares me.”
He froze, his eyes glimmering like black diamonds. “What?”
The rasp of his voice sent shivers down my back.
“I love you, Dante.” I inched closer to him, inhaling his scent deep into the marrow of my bones. “I don’t know when it happened or how it happened. But I know that living without you would kill me. You love me at my worst. I hope you’ll love me at my best. At least as my better self.”
Another tear rolled down my cheek. The weight lifted from my chest with my admission. My stubbornness and hate had made me blind. I should have seen it long ago. I fell for him hard.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?
” A sob tore from my throat. It was silly to be so shaken up about it, yet here I was.
It felt like I’d come to an earth-shattering revelation.
“Jesus, I love you so much that being without you physically hurts. It hurts.” Another sob wrecked me.
Concern was etched between his brows, he watched me worriedly.
He brought our faces close together, the tip of our noses brushing together. “Why are you crying, Wildling?”
I sank into him, wrapping my arms around him and gripping him to me for dear life.
“I don’t know.” I buried my face in his chest and inhaled his scent deep into my lungs. He smelled so good. So warm. So mine . His embrace made me feel safe. “I missed you. I might be becoming a wimp.”
We must have looked ridiculous. He was dressed in his typical three-piece suit. I was wearing a casual midi dress in his favorite color. Blue.
“I missed you, Wildling.”
I’d seen him every day for the past month, but it wasn’t the same. We didn’t touch. We didn’t kiss. We talked. He took me out on dates. We were getting to know each other. I was with him, but it wasn’t the same as being with him.
“We’ve seen each other every day,” I pointed out, sniffling.
All this time, I’d been afraid to let him into my heart. But truthfully, I’d hurt myself in the process too. I’d believed myself too vulnerable to love, but what I failed to see was that letting myself experience it could also make me stronger.
“It’s not enough.” Dante pulled away an inch and tilted my chin up, his eyes boring into mine. “I want you with me every day, all day. All night. I want to burn with you.”
I swallowed hard. It was time.
I was ready for him.
“I want to go home.”