42. Dante
DANTE
I found Vasili and Isabella in front of Nikola’s hospital room, deep in their thoughts and their attention on their son, who apparently didn’t want them in his hospital room during his examination.
Nurses and doctors rushed up and down the hallway, oblivious to the fact that the family who ran this city was here.
“I feel so helpless.” Isabella didn’t seem to be taking her son’s injury well, but she’d remained a pillar of strength for the sake of Nikola and Marietta.
It’d been three weeks, and she still hadn’t come to terms with it.
Not that I could blame her. If it were my kid, I didn’t think I’d have it in me to sit still and not rip the hospital to shreds.
“ Malyshka , you’ve done everything possible. Let the doctors do their jobs,” Vasili said, worry lacing his voice.
Isabella pushed her hands into her hair and tugged. “I should be able to do something .”
Regret hit me with the force of a sea storm meeting the rocky shorelines. Again, I wished that Nikola hadn’t been hurt in my stead, but I understood enough to know that he acted on instinct to protect Skye.
Isabella’s gaze was glued to the window of Nikola’s hospital room, almost as if willing the doctors to heal her son.
Nikola was seated, the doctor examining both legs, holding up X-rays and humming contemplatively, then returning to moving his legs this way and that again and performing a DTR exam. The doctor used the rubber hammer on one knee and then the other, the usual knee-jerk reflexes not happening.
“It’s too early, malyshka ,” Vasili mumbled, whether to convince his wife or himself. “It’s only been a few weeks.”
I heard he would be released today, and I wanted to talk to him before he returned to the manor.
Skye wanted to wait for him there, but we’d finally convinced her it would be best if we moved to a hotel.
Instead, we found ourselves in Sasha’s New Orleans penthouse.
He and Branka rarely used it, usually opting for the Nikolaev compound.
“Vasili. Isabella,” I greeted them and their gazes slid to me. “Any updates?”
“No, but they’re discharging him today,” Vasili answered while Isabella’s attention returned to the window. “Is Skye okay?”
He sounded calm and collected, but the worry in his eyes and the clench of his jaw were unmistakable.
“Yes, she’ll be fine. We’ve moved to Sasha’s penthouse and will be there until we leave for Italy.
” I’d delayed our trip back for as long as I could, my brother covering for me, but I knew we couldn’t stay here indefinitely.
Business was waiting, and it wasn’t fair for Amon to shoulder my responsibilities too.
“You didn’t have to leave the manor,” Isabella protested. “It might be good for Nikola to see Skye when we bring him home.”
“We’ll respect his wishes,” Vasili reasoned, and I agreed. “He’s an adult, and the fact of the matter is, he can cut us off completely if he so wishes.”
She released a long sigh. “Fine.”
“If it’s okay with both of you, I would like to talk to Nikola,” I said. “To thank him properly for what he did, and…” I hesitated, and they both watched me, their brows furrowed. “Well, and to tell him personally that no matter what, he has my approval.”
It fucking killed me to say it while my daughter was still crying her eyes out every day, but it was the truth. The need to lash out was because I felt helpless. I felt guilty for dismissing him when he came to me. If I hadn’t, all of this might have been prevented.
And there was the fucking guilt that ate at me.
Nobody should have been caught in the Leone family drama with my wife’s grandmother who’d caused so much damage to our lives.
I knew the Nikolaevs were keeping the old witch alive until Nikola was out of the hospital to exact his own revenge.
It was up to Nikola to do with her as he saw fit.
It was one of the benefits of our world: an eye for an eye.
“Do you think it’s the right time to discuss that?” Isabella asked, the protectiveness clear in her voice. In that regard, she reminded me of my wife a lot.
“As good as any. I’m hoping to make him see that he isn’t any lesser of a man today than he was three weeks ago.
If anything, he’s even more worthy.” I pushed my hand through my hair.
“I want to apologize to him for getting caught up in our family drama and paying the price for it. That should have never happened.”
“It’s not your fault,” Vasili protested. “It could have easily been anything else.”
“Nikola didn’t hesitate to protect me or my daughter. I couldn’t ask for a better man for Skye. I just hope to make him see that.”
The doctor came out and Vasili slapped my shoulder. “Go on, Dante. We’ll talk to the specialist in the meantime.”
Isabella nodded. “I hope he listens to you, Dante. I really do.”
I stepped around them and entered the hospital room, finding Nikola with his head in his hands. His elbows rested on his thighs, tattoos marking most of his skin, but only one caught my eye. The one of my daughter’s name around his wedding finger.
Something about that defeated posture stirred something fierce inside me. I wanted to grab him, haul him up, and shake the stubborn fight back into him. But I knew that wouldn’t show him the respect he deserved—not the way I truly felt.
Instead, I swallowed the urge and steadied myself, ready to do whatever it took to help him find that fight again.
“Nikola,” I greeted. I wouldn’t insult him by asking how he was doing. It was clear he was struggling.
He sat up, slipping on his indifferent mask and raising a brow. “What can I do for you, Dante?”
“What happened to Papa Dante?”
“It doesn’t have the right ring to it.” The little shit just shrugged. “It turns out you were right when you claimed that Skye needed a good boy.”
“You’re suspiciously agreeable.”
“Is that sarcasm I detect?” He leaned back, like he was lounging on the beach and not in a hospital bed. “On that note, Dante, you’re being irritatingly dis agreeable today.”
The little fucking shit really was as stubborn as his uncle.
I took a step toward the bed, deciding to ignore his snark. He certainly deserved to be let off the hook for the next century after what he’d been through.
“Nikola, I want to talk to you about Skye.” Not a single muscle on his face twitched, but his hands clenched into fists. “Firstly, let me say thank you. For saving my life and my daughter’s.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Secondly, I want to finish the conversation we started.” He remained silent and I sighed tiredly. He was going to make me work for it, wasn’t he? “I approve of your wedding taking place this month.” Still no reaction. “As soon as we can arrange a priest.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Nikola—”
“Skye will get over all of it eventually. There’ll be no wedding.”
It was my turn to clench my fists, but the thought of my daughter and how upset she’d been had me taking a breath to ease my temper.
“No, son.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Skye won’t get over you. She loves you, and I believe you love her.”
“You’re wrong.” The crack in his voice betrayed him. “There’ll be no wedding.”
“Here we go,” I muttered. Phoenix made me promise to use blackmail if necessary. I didn’t like it, but fuck it. For her and Skye, I might as well make a fucking idiot out of all of us. “Nikola, you remember my wife, right?”
He scoffed with clear irritability on his face. “What does she have to do with anything?”
“Well, son, I want to make her happy. She blames me for denying you Skye when you came to me and asked me to let you marry her. She also blames herself for her grandmother hurting you. I believe it didn’t matter to Diana whether she shot me or Skye, because she knew Skye’s death would have finished me.
Bottom line, you got wrapped into our drama and now you’re paying the price for Diana’s desire to finish me once and for all. ”
“It could have been anyone,” Nikola stated flatly. “The fact that it was someone connected to you doesn’t matter.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Next Ace to use.
“You and Skye made the sex tape. You sent it to Marchetti.” Nikola stiffened.
“Marrying her off now and securing her protection will be… impossible.” He met my gaze, understanding dawning on him.
Good . “So even if Skye, by some miracle, agrees to a marriage to another man”—which she made clear she wouldn’t in a million years—“you can see that finding another husband for Skye would be… problematic.”
He tilted his head, watching me pensively. “I’ll find her a husband.”
“The fuck you will,” I gritted. “You will go through with this wedding, and that’s that. Because there’s no fucking way in hell I’m going back to my wife to tell her you won’t marry our daughter.”
Before he could argue with me, I whipped around, striding past his parents bickering in the hallway, and left him to ponder those words.