Chapter 1 #2
I think about our final days together—dancing, laughing, making promises and plans.
And now he’s here, like this.
I place my hand on his chest, on the tattoo of the void where his heart is. He told me he had this done after he lost Amy.
“There’s just a space where my heart should be.”
“You have to come back,” I whisper to him, my lips trembling. “You promised me forever.”
I so badly want to give up. To tell Alistair I quit. To curl up here forever and never leave Colt’s side. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to rule. I want to be here every second until the moment he wakes up, and then we’ll leave. We’ll take Holly, and we’ll go somewhere no one can find us.
My phone vibrates.
Vince: You up?
I sniff and respond quickly.
Me: As always. It was nice seeing you today. Everyone took the news about Vincenzo well.
I already knew the head of the Capellis was dead. He’d died the day earlier, and Vince had called me in the middle of the night, distraught.
Vince: Wish I could have held your hand as I said the words.
Me: Me too.
The three dots appear, then stop. It’s a whole minute before he texts again.
Vince: Can I see you?
It’s late. After midnight. Going to his house now … it won’t look good. Especially after what Alistair said.
Or maybe this is the perfect time. It’s unlikely anyone will see and come to their own opinions about it.
Me: What if people see?
Vince: I’ve sent most of the security home for the night, and the ones still here won’t say a word.
Vince: Please, Denver. An hour. One drink.
An hour.
One drink.
Lewis opens the door, smiling weakly. “You good?”
I show him my phone, but he doesn’t voice the concern I know he’s feeling.
Thirty minutes later, the gates to the Capellis’ home are swinging open to allow us through. A single security guard doesn’t verify us, and I’m in the back seat, my identity hidden behind darkened glass.
Vince answers the door to the sprawling home in the same suit he wore to the meeting, but his tie is gone, his top button unfastened.
He’s already holding a drink, but I can’t smell alcohol on him when I kiss his cheek, so it must be his first. He told me once he hates drinking if his day has been too stressful, but he picked up the habit after Colt broke both his arms. We’d somehow laughed about it, and he told me that he was oddly thankful to Colt for doing it.
He said his attempt on Colt’s life in the restaurant, an attempt thwarted by me, was a kneejerk reaction that got him another beating, this time from his own family, and he realized the error of his ways.
He’d looked sad as he said he hoped he'd get the opportunity to thank Colt for opening his eyes.
“How can you look so good in the middle of the night?” Vince murmurs in my ear as he leads me into a living room.
I laugh and swat his arm. “Fucking liar.” I gaze around the home—it’s stunning. Enormous. A place that he said has been in his family for generations. I let out an impressed breath as I gaze around me. “How the other half lives.”
Vince pours me a drink and snorts. “Like you grew up much different.”
“There’s money and then there’s this.” I gesture around me, and he closes the space between us before handing me a whiskey. “You’re old money.”
He grins and holds his glass up. “To old money.”
“To old money.” I knock my drink against his. “Can I have a tour?”
He puts his arm around my waist and pulls my hip to his. “I’ll never turn down an opportunity to show off that money.”
I laugh and glance at Lewis. “I’ll be okay alone.”
His jaw tightens, but he nods. Vince gives a similar instruction to his own security, and we begin.
The furniture is older than both of us. Antique vases are filled with lively bouquets, and painted art is mixed with family portraits.
Vince tells me there are fifty rooms, almost thirty bathrooms, six living rooms, and an attic he used to play in when he was younger.
“It spans the entire length of the building,” he says, pointing at the ceiling as we walk down a hallway, the rich red carpet soft beneath my heels. “I got lost up there once. My mom nearly killed me for being missing for so long.”
“So, you’ve always been a troublemaker?” I tease, finishing my drink.
“An innocent victim,” he insists, and I grin. He stops us at the end of the hall, a large window looking out into darkness beside us. “I like it when you smile.”
My heart picks up. “You do?”
He nods, searching my face for a moment before taking my glass and his and placing them on a side table. “Alistair warned me away from you today.”
Of course he fucking did. “Alistair is on a power trip. What did he say?”
“That he’d cut my eyelids off, then tell on me to Ranger.” He smirks and brushes my hair back. “How many men are fawning over you?”
I snort. “Alistair would sooner bury me in the garden.”
“I meant me.”
My lips part, and I play with my necklace. “You?”
He nods slowly, stepping closer. The urge to create distance is there, but I don’t do it.
Even when he tucks his hand against the side of my neck, even when we’re dangerously close.
“Me. Ranger.” He runs his thumb across my jaw.
“Colt.” I open my mouth to disagree, to insist there’s nothing between Colt and me, but he silences me with his lips.
All the air leaves me, and my brain is flooded with panic.
Vince is kissing me.
Not Colt.
Vince.
I pull back slightly, running my tongue across my lower lip, wondering if the whiskey I taste is from my mouth or his. “Vince, I’m married.”
“We both know you’re not with Ranger.” He runs his nose across mine, pulling me against him again. “And Colt can’t offer you a damn thing.”
I place my hands against his chest as if to push him away. “Colt is—”
“Useless,” he says, searching my face. “You wanted him for power. He no longer has it, so let me give it to you. Let me give you everything.”
“I—”
His lips are against mine again, and the hands I’ve placed on his chest stop pushing. My fingers curl into his shirt.
And I kiss him back.
I part my lips and let his tongue massage mine, the kiss overwhelming, close to suffocating. The hallway feels quiet, too quiet, like the house is judging us. It sits on my skin, a deep, heavy shame.
I hate it.
Hate what I’m doing.
But the reasons outweigh the guilt.
Vince breaks the kiss, takes my hand, and leads me away. I don’t need to ask where we’re going. When he unlocks his bedroom door, I glance at the end of the hall to where Lewis is standing.
He gives me a small nod.
I return it.
Vince tugs me inside his room. The door closes behind me and he presses me against it, kissing me again. I squeeze my eyes closed, running my fingers through his hair, forcing myself to inject passion into the moment.
He pulls the zip on my dress down. Cool air whispers across my skin as the garment drops to the floor.
“Fuck,” he whispers, biting his lip as he admires the black lingerie. He runs his fingertips across the bruises on my ribs, my shoulder, my hips. Evidence that I survived something I shouldn’t have. His heated gaze meets mine. “Are you using me, Denver?”
My breathing is quick, and I nod. “Yes.”
He runs his tongue across his teeth, and his smile is wicked. “Money or power?”
I place my hands on his chest. “Do you care?”
“Right now? No.” He takes several steps back and starts unbuttoning his shirt. “How much do you want that power?”
I lick my lips. “Enough to do this.”
“Ouch,” he says, but his grin says he doesn’t care. “You telling me you’re not wet?”
“Only one way to find out. Get on your knees.”
He does.
Shirt unbuttoned, revealing a toned body and a heaving chest, Vince Capelli is on his knees for me. I step closer, my heels lending more height to look down at him. His eyes are greedy as he reaches out to grip my underwear.
“No touching until I say. Can you follow instructions, Mr. Capelli?”
“Fuck yes,” he says quietly, his gaze following as I circle him. “Do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
Oh, I will.
I run my fingertips across his chest, shoulder and back. “How badly do you want this?”
“So badly,” he whispers. “I’ve dreamed of this exact fucking moment.”
I stand behind him, running my palms across his shoulders. He groans as I glide my nails down his chest, leaving soft pink lines. “Did you dream I’d touch you like this?”
“Yes,” he breathes.
“And kiss you like this?” I whisper in his ear, kissing the lobe, just as I reach back and release my hair, the long locks draping over my shoulders and back.
He closes his eyes. “Yes.”
I run my tongue up his neck, ending at his ear.
“Did you dream I’d kill you, Vince?” His eyes snap open as the first sharpened hairpin goes into his throat.
The needle-like blade is buried deep, and his lips part, a quiet choke leaving his throat, the pearl tip of the pin protruding from his skin.
A droplet of blood appears and eases down the column of his mouth.
“That’s for Finn,” I whisper and plunge another pin into the other side.
He jerks, blinking fast. “That’s for Ronan.
” He tries to turn, but I grip his hair. “And this is for Colt.”
I yank out both hairpins and pull them across his throat.
Blood sprays. Vince lets out a gurgle, and I shove him forward, his chest meeting the floor. Red seeps across the ornate rug and I step back, watching him crawl for the door. He can’t speak, cry, or shout, so he thumps his hand against the floor.
But no one will come.
“Don’t you wish you hadn’t sent them all away?” I ask, blowing my hair out of my face as I revel in his struggle.
He spreads blood across the wooden door as he grasps for the handle, but his fingers can’t grip, and I watch in silence as he slumps against the floor and dies.