Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ALYSSA
M y new apartment is on 81st St. in the Upper East Side, near Brynne, but far enough away to feel my independence like a visceral thing around me. Even now.
Walking through the many people on the walk, I keep my bag on my shoulder and my groceries from hitting anyone as I step onto the stairs leading to the door.
The doorman opens the door, a smile on his face. “Evening, Ms. Roebach.”
Once I’ve unlocked my place, I rush into the dining area and plop all my bags down onto the table, huffing a groan as I look over the red marks the groceries caused on my arms.
I know I could’ve had them delivered, which is likely what everyone in this building does, but I wanted to do it myself.
I also needed to get the hell out of this apartment.
It’s been two agonizing days on my own, and I’m going mad, if I’m honest.
The place is something off of a television movie—a building with only a handful of two-story townhomes. The floors are cold and all a bright white marble. The walls differ depending on which room you’re in.
Light spills into the dining room from a window to the left, facing the street.
Daylight is waning, and soon, it’ll just be me and the sounds of New York bustling through the night again.
I thought once I was here, I could deal with everything that’s gone on since I accepted the position as Brynne’s right hand, but instead, I’ve been wallowing in how lonely I am.
I thought about opening an account on a random dating app to meet up with someone to release some pent-up energy, but instant images of Dante somersaulted through my mind, and I broke down in tears.
Even though I tried my damnedest to keep him at arm’s length, he’s weaseled his way in somehow or another.
I drop onto the dark leather couch in the living room, opening my phone to look at the one thing I shouldn’t be staring at when I’m feeling like this.
Dante’s text message.
I’ve been mulling over texting, but I don’t know what to say.
I miss you, too.
That’s what comes to mind, but admitting it to him would give him a piece of me I’m not ready to give just yet.
It would make my spiraling worse.
My phone rings in my hand, startling me.
An image of Brynne with her tongue stuck out and Antonio’s fingers behind her head making bunny ears at her bachelorette party surfaces. I smile before sliding the answer button across the screen.
“Aren’t you supposed to be too tied up to be calling me?” I ask her, my grin plastered as carlights dance in the darkening room.
She laughs, sounding lighter than I’ve heard her in a while. “I was just released from my restraints. Thank you very much.”
I shake my head. “What’s up? How are things going?”
“They’re amazing. I was calling to see how you were doing. I tried to give you ample time to settle as Slate told me to. But you know I’m too nosy for my own good.”
I chuckle, rolling onto my side on the couch; the leather creaks and groans with the movement.
“I’m alright, I guess.”
“You guess?” she asks, concern spilling into her tone.
“Yeah, I mean…” I groan, closing my eyes and seeing Dante behind my lids. “I’m just getting adjusted to being alone again, I guess. I’ll be fine, really. Tell Slate this place is really over the damn top, though. I feel like you two should be living here, not me.”
She clears her throat, and I hear a door squeak closed. She’s likely walked away from where prying ears can listen to our conversation. As tough as Slate looks and is, he’s a sucker for good gossip, especially where his bunny is involved.
“Listen, you don’t have to be alone. Have you been trying to let Dante in a bit more?”
I bite my lip, worrying it a bit as I try to decide how much to tell her. “He texted me that he missed me,” I admit.
She gasps a giddy squeal, partially silenced. I’m certain she’s bouncing up and down right now.
“And? What did you say back?” she asks.
I can tell by her tone that she’s eager as fuck to watch Dante and me have some fantastical love story that unfolds, thinking herself the cause. I don’t have the heart to tell her I don’t think that’ll ever happen.
Not with how fucked up I am.
“I didn’t reply,” I tell her, closing my eyes as I await her annoyed response.
She tries her damnedest, but she doesn’t keep her retort controlled. “Alyssa Rose Roebach, are you kidding me right now? You told me you’d try. How is that trying?”
I swallow. Middle name. She’s brought out the big guns.
“Well, I thought about texting him back and saying I miss him, too. That’s progress for me, right?”
She grumbles something inaudible under her breath, and I can’t quite make it out.
“What was that?” I ask, a fresh grin lifting my lips.
“Nothing. Listen, you have to do better.”
“Is that an order?” I joke back.
I can almost see her realizing she’s my superior and standing straighter as if she’s right before me. “Is that what you need? Do you need to be ordered around to do the right thing until you’re head over heels and forget your fears? Because I can make that a reality, Lyss. I swear to God, you’re more hard-headed than Slate.”
“Hey, I resent that.”
Brynne screams, the sound piercing my ear drum through the receiver.
“Jesus,” I cringe.
“Sorry, where the hell did you come from? I didn’t hear you come outside.”
“I’m stealthy. Now, who is this mystery man that you’re trying to order Alyssa to go after? I wouldn’t say I like the idea of her wandering around the city while we’re not there. What if he’s a murderer?” Slate says, seeming closer to the phone.
Brynne sighs. It seems our jig is up. “I’m putting you on speaker phone, Lyss.”
I smile. “So don’t talk shit about Slate, got it.”
“You two are too fucking much, you know that, right?” he replies.
“Alyssa has a fear of commitment, rightly so. She went through a lot as a kid. She promised me she’d try to let her walls down because the man that she’s talking to, fucking? I don’t know what they’re doing. He is a good man. But he texted her that he missed her, and she replied nothing. She’s ruining everything; make her listen,” Brynne whines to Slate, and I’m in stitches, laughing on the other end.
“Oh, so we’re talking about Dante?” Slate says matter-of-factly.
Of course, he knew something was going on; he walked in on us fucking while I was supposed to be beside his wife in the church. He also mentioned Dante at the hospital, not that I was too focused on what he said. I don’t know if he knew it was quite so serious between us, though.
“Yes, it’s Dante,” I sigh.
“Well, I will say, if you want a man who won’t hurt you, Alyssa, you’ve chosen correctly. Your heart knew what it was doing when it let its guard down around him. He’ll treat you like you deserve to be treated.”
I think of him shoving his pierced cock down my throat and slapping my face.
I bite my lip again, this time not in worry.
“Well, now it’s been too long to text him back, so…”
“Oh, don’t you fucking dare!” Brynne says as the phone jostles and her voice grows louder in the receiver. “You make this right.”
“Again, is that an order?” I tease.
I love that she’s so invested in Dante and me, only because it shows how much she cares about me.
“Fuck it. Yes, that’s an order.”
Hearing those words, all my reservations fall to the wayside, and I stand up and head for my purse.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can I have my wife back now?” Slate groans, and I laugh as Brynne likely scowls at him.
“Enjoy one another. I’ll be alright, B. I love you.”
“And I love you,” she squeals back as the line cuts off, and I smile from ear to ear.
She’s living proof true love and happiness exist, and I trust her to lead me through this, even if I have to tell my anxieties and reservations that I’m only following direct orders from my boss.
After all, she could have me killed if I don’t listen.
One must protect one’s own head.
Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door to which I once had a key. I don’t know if he’ll be home. With mounting tensions at the docks and everything else the Riccis lord over, there are days when he doesn’t return home. Before me, anyhow.
At least, that’s what he told me.
The door swings open, and the man before me looks like a cluttered mess—one I’m a bit worried about if I’m honest.
His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is tousled and sticking out in all different directions, and the unkempt suit he has on, half tucked-in, half not, looks like it’s been on his body for days.
In fact, I think it’s the one he had two days ago when I passed him in this doorway, bags in hand.
“Tesoro?” he asks, his voice graveled and rough.
My belly warms and flips uneasily.
Fuck.
Being away from him and returning has made me realize how much I’ve come to crave him in the quiet moments of my day.
Even if I try not to.
“What has happened to you?” I ask him.
I decided against texting back because I left him on read for so long that I figured a text wasn’t warranted.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he jokes, straightening against the door he still holds open. “I look fucking fabulous, I’m sure.”
“Did you just wake up? It’s five in the evening?!” I ask him.
His eyes widen. “No, it’s not. Goddamnit!” He turns, leaving the door wide open, rushing toward the massive clock on the wall near the couch in the living room.
“Motherfucker!” he shouts, and I step inside and close the door behind me.
“What’s wrong? You miss an appointment?”
“You could say that, yeah. I’ll be right back. I have to make a call.”
He steps out onto the balcony, shoving his hand through his dark hair as he calls whomever he stood up by sleeping too long.
There’s an empty whiskey bottle on its side atop the piano, and music notes scribbled on a page in Dante’s haphazard handwriting as if he’s been composing something all his own.
I move closer, fixated on hearing the piece in my mind, even though I can’t read music.
I don’t hear him come in, which isn’t unusual—the man moves with the stealth of a fucking lion.
“Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, tesoro?” he growls in my ear.
“No. Just waiting for you to come back.” I turn around as he tries to cage me to the piano.
He straightens, looking down at me with desperation leaking from his eyes. “Why are you here, Alyssa?”
His voice is strangled. I’m certainly the reason for the bottle on the piano, but part of me wants to know if I’m the muse he’s writing some tortured song for, too.
I can’t handle knowing emotionally, however, so I don’t ask.
“Because I didn’t text back,” I get out as he reaches up and tucks some of my wind-blown hair behind my ears.
“You didn’t,” he whispers. “Did you come to apologize?”
“No. I came to answer the message.”
“In person? Do you understand how texting works? I could teach you to use your phone if you’d like.”
One corner of his perfect mouth tips up in a playful grin, and my mouth waters at the sight. He’s a craving I never knew I could have but know I’ll never kick.
“I know how my phone works,” I sigh. “Would you rather me return home and text you back?”
He shakes his head, cupping my face on either side and nearly stalling my breathing. “No, minaccia, I want you to answer the message and put me out of my misery.”
The anguish in his tone is hard to ignore. “I miss you, too,” I blurt, needing to spit it at him rather than overthink it.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pressing closer, his forehead resting against mine as he leans down, still holding my face gently, like I’m the thing keeping him from falling.
“This is so hard for me,” I whisper.
“I know,” he whispers back.
It’s the rawest moment I’ve ever had with anyone. Yet, there’s no fear rising in my gut. No worry, tangling a web in my chest.
I close my eyes against the peace his proximity brings and breathe him in, letting the moment of tranquility spread around us like a blanket on a cold winter’s day.
“Dante, I…” He cuts my words off, tipping my face back and crashing his lips to mine.
The kiss is eager and needy. Gentle but violent. My tongue finds his in a storm we’re creating as I wrap my arms around his neck. He lifts me, taking us both to the couch, where he drops, making me straddle him as the kiss grows urgent and overwhelming.
“I don’t care where this goes,” he pants, breaking his lips from mine. “But you just have to let it.”
“Well, I have direct orders from my boss to do just that, so… I kind of have to.”
His smile spreads far and wide on his beautiful face. “Oh, do you, now?”
I nod, licking my lips. Tingling from how he kissed me lingers on them. “I do. And the way I hear it, you have to listen to the boss in this kind of life. If you want to keep your head.”
He nods, reaching up and wrapping his hand around my throat. “What a pity it would be for this head to roll, too.”
I can’t help but let his dominating touch cause my blood to boil. “Dante,” I breathe, elongating my neck in his hand, submitting to the power of him.
“Tesoro.”
I close my eyes as he squeezes my throat. “Fuck, I missed you. Two fucking days without you was like being sentenced to life in hell.”
He uses my throat to pull my face back to his.
“Surprised the Devil would let you back out of hell,” I manage as he grins and tightens his hand.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
I moan, my breathing shallowing by the second. “Men like you rule the underworld alongside him, do they not?”
He laughs, taking my lips in a bruising kiss that I’ll never forget. I’ll take this kiss to the grave with me, along with the feel of his hard cock beneath me.
If he’s the Devil’s Enforcer, I quickly become the powerful demon at his beck and call.