CHAPTER II
I leaned back against the plush leather seat, allowing the rhythmic hum of the engines to settle my restless thoughts. Just then, the flight attendant approached with a polite smile.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” I replied, turning my gaze to Dante, who was staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. He hasn’t said a word since we left the house.
“You’re quiet,” I said.
Dante turned his head slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “He thinks I’m dead.”
“Who?” I probed.
His eyes locked onto mine. “Alphonse.”
My brow furrowed. “Why would he think that?”
Dante shrugged. “I don’t know. Tony was shocked as hell when I called. He hung up on me, convinced it was a sick joke.” He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging. “Something must’ve gone wrong the night Angelica left for him to think I was dead.”
Dante swept a hand across his face. “I can only imagine his reaction when he sees I’m not dead.”
“Guess we’re about to find out.”
He nodded in agreement, a dry chuckle escaping him.
Just as I was ready to close my eyes, my phone rang and I answered the call.
“Hello, Mr. Moretti. This is Dr. Hope Evers from the medical examiner’s office,” the voice on the other end said. “The reason for my call is to discuss arrangements for your mother, Serafina.”
At the mention of my mother’s name, I felt as though a bullet had pierced my chest. “Of course.”
“We need to finalize the details regarding her remains and the funeral services. I understand this is a difficult time for you, but it’s essential we proceed as soon as possible. Do you have a funeral home in mind?”
I swallowed hard. Grief was a cruel son of a bitch and a thief, taking away the one person who accepted me as I was.
“I’m traveling out of the country at the moment on business. I was hoping to finalize the details when I returned to the States,” I replied.
Dr. Ever’s voice softened. “I understand. If you’d prefer, I can speak with another family member to help facilitate the arrangements.”
“Yes, I think that would be best. I’ll have my aunt, Emillia contact you to finalize the details.”
“Sounds good,” Dr. Ever’s said. “I am so sorry about your loss,” she added.
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “I appreciate it.” My grip tightened around the phone as if it were a lifeline slipping through my fingers.
“I’ll keep you updated.”
I ended the call abruptly, breathing heavily.
The moment was broken when Dante spoke. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”
The last thing I needed was a deep dive into my pain. As if sensing my reluctance to discuss it, he took the hint and diverted the conversation.
“Nico, I need you to brace yourself for Alphonse’s reaction. He won’t take kindly to the fact that his daughter was dragged into your world.”
“And what makes you think I would care what he thinks?” I asked.
“Because if you ever want a future with Gigi, then you better fucking care,” Dante shot back.
I scoffed. “You seem to forget who you’re talking to.”
He leaned forward, brows knitted tightly together as his gaze bore into mine.
“No, I haven’t, Nico. Trust me, Alphonse is not a man you want to fuck with.
I’m trying to help you understand that he owns Italy.
He says what comes in and what goes out.
He decides who is allowed to enter the country and who doesn’t get to leave.
If he wants to shoot you on sight, there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop him. ”
“I’m not afraid of death, Dante.”
“No, I suppose you’re not.” He sat back, took a drink of his water. “But you should be afraid of what could happen to Gigi.”
Anger bubbled beneath the surface of my skin, a heat that seemed to radiate like the scorching flames of a fire.
It threatened to consume me, but I forced myself to shift the conversation.
“Tell me how you knew Gigi.” It was still hard to get used to calling her Gigi instead of Winter—a name I had come to cherish, representing coldness yet warming my once-icy heart.
“I worked for Giuseppe, Gigi’s grandfather.
Angelica asked me and Malik to watch over Gigi if anything happened to her.
Whoever killed Angelica must’ve been working for her father in some capacity.
” Dante shook his head, and his face contorted with pain.
With his eyes shut, he continued. “Hours before Angelica left Italy, her own father beat the hell out of her and even planned for his men to rape her to teach her a lesson.”
I gaped at him. “What the fuck? Tell me the asshole isn’t still breathing.”
Dante opened his eyes and looked directly at me. “After I helped Angelica escape, I didn’t receive any updates. Alphonse told me he would find a way to tell me if it was safe to return. But all I got was radio silence ever since. I could only assume he was still alive.”
“Why the hell wouldn’t Alphonse have gotten rid of him?” I clenched my jaw. I would kill any motherfucker who laid their hands on my angel.
Dante shrugged. “That’s a question only Alphonse can answer.”
We fell into heavy silence before I pressed him again for answers. “You mentioned you and your brother were watching over Angelica and Gigi. Where is your brother now?”
“I don’t know,” Dante admitted, his frustration clear as daylight. “I felt something was off when Malik didn’t check in.”
“Do you think your brother is dead?” I ventured.
Dante dropped his head back against the headrest. “I hope not.” The sincerity behind his words felt like a quiet prayer.
“Was that why you went to see Gigi?” I asked.
He nodded, his expression grave.
“So, they were in hiding...” I murmured, piecing together the fragments of the story.
“Yes. I can’t figure out how Angelica and Gigi were found,” he replied, letting out a deep sigh. “And how he thought I was dead. Lots of unanswered questions.”
Before I could voice another question, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a text message.
Miguel
No Davina.
“What do you want in life?” I asked Winter.
“Um.” She hesitated, clearly taken off guard by the question. “I’ve always wanted to play in a symphony.”
“Oh, yeah?” I raised an eyebrow. “What else?”
“Well, let’s see,” she mused, turning slightly to face the door, appearing lost in thought. “I want to get married and have at least three kids, a dog, and a quiet house in the country with a white porch swing.”
“Not much of a city girl, huh?” I teased.
She shook her head that still rested on my chest, her hair brushing against my arm. “Not really. I like the quiet.”
“I want to be the one to give you all those things,” I said sincerely.
I jolted awake, my heart pounding as the memory flooded my mind.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“She’s strong,” Dante said.
“What?” I asked.
“Gigi. You said her name.”
I nodded. My angel—the very crux of my dreams and nightmares.
“You love her.”
“Yes,” I confessed. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to earn her forgiveness.”
Dante nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “Let’s hope for your sake that her father will allow you the opportunity to do so.” He smirked, his gaze shifting to the window, the clouds beginning to break as we descended.
I scoffed internally. Nothing— absolutely nothing —would stand in the way of getting to my angel. She was mine, destined to reign beside me like the queen she was meant to be.
I glanced over at Luca, who was out cold, his head lolling to one side like a bobblehead. With a mischievous grin, I grabbed the water bottle the attendant left for me and launched it at him, hitting him square in the chest.
“What the hell?” He shot up, eyes wide as he caught the bottle before it could land on the floor.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” I teased. “We’re landing.”
“It’s about time,” he groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “This has been the longest fucking flight ever.”
“And just think, you have to do it all over again when we fly back to the States,” Dante chimed in.
“Fuck me,” Luca sang out in annoyance.
The moment we stepped off the plane, a swarm of black cars with tinted windows surrounded us, and men with guns who were already on the tarmac pointed them in our direction.
I halted on the steps, instinctively bracing myself as I surveyed the scene.
“The fuck,” Luca exclaimed, colliding with my back.
“Not the greeting I was expecting.” I shot a glance at Dante, who was behind Luca. His calm demeanor only heightened my anxiety.
“I warned you,” Dante replied.
I descended the steps with a low growl, the sound rumbling in my chest as I stood squarely in front of a man with slicked black hair and sunglasses so dark they obscured his eyes. He wore a tailored black suit, both hands clasped in front of him.
“Nico Moretti. Welcome to Milan.” His tone was flat, devoid of warmth or welcome.
I held my gaze steady, choosing to say nothing as I studied him.
His eyes flicked over my shoulder, and a fleeting smile broke through his stoic facade. “Dante. Long time, no see. Can’t believe you’re alive.”
“Yes, it has been a long time, Tony,” Dante replied, as if we were simply catching up over coffee. “Does the boss know I’m alive?” he asked.
Tony’s smile faded, his expression growing serious. “Yes. Be prepared to explain yourself.”
Dante gave him a curt nod, recognizing the warning behind his words.
“Follow me,” Tony said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the open door of a Hummer.
We slipped into the car, and the driver pulled away. The landscape unfolded around us, bursting with lush greenery and rolling hills. Elegant villas were scattered across the hillsides.
Forty-five minutes later, we reached a white stone mansion surrounded by a sturdy stone brick wall. The car stopped in front of the double black iron gates, a letter G design at the center, flanked by two armed guards.