Chapter 31
DAN
Itap my fingers against the dash while I wait for Rose to collect Angelos from school.
Last night was a waste of time with a false lead on Magnus’s whereabouts.
He’s not responding to my messages and I’m agitated.
Shane’s put a call out for him at the station, but it does nothing to settle my nerves.
I won’t rest till I know he’s been dealt with and is no longer a loose end.
Rose and Angelos walk out of the red brick building, and a weight lifts from my shoulders. A smile curves my lips until I read the scowl on his face as he shrugs away from Rose and slumps towards the car.
He yanks open the back door and throws his rucksack onto the seat, then follows with a huff.
I look in the rear view mirror as he folds his arms over his chest. “Everything okay, mate?”
He ignores me, his brow creasing into a scowl.
Rose drops into the passenger seat with a sigh, her forehead creasing, but hers has all the telltale signs of worry.
“You all right?” I place my hand on her knee over her jeans.
She gives me a fake smile as if putting on a brave face. “Let’s just go home.”
I shift the car into gear and drive out of the school gates, the drive home long and silent with nothing but my thoughts.
Too many lies, too many secrets, and the sooner everything is out in the open with Angelos, the better. I know he resents me. He thinks I’m not his dad.
It was hard for Dom and me to accept any woman my dad brought home after Mum died. The moody little bastard reminds me so much of my little brother…
Dom was always storming around with a chip on his shoulder and a smart-ass comment on his tongue.
I rest my head back against the seat, the pounding in my skull giving way to his voice. Sharp. Goading. Like I’m not just remembering, but reliving it.
I drive on autopilot while the rest of me gets dragged back almost fourteen years. Back when I still believed I could keep things separate. Mission and heart. Her and me.
And just like that, I’m in Rome again. Jaw clenched. Heart torn in two…
“I need more time.” I pace the length of the shitty little apartment Dom and I have been renting in Rome. From the corner of my eye, a cockroach scurries across the tiled floor.
Dom slams his boot down with a crunch, grinding the heel as if he’s stamping on an enemy. “These fuckers are everywhere. Just like the Contis, they’ll infiltrate everything if we let them.”
“I’m not saying abort the mission.” Frustration coils tight in my chest, trying to make my brother see reason. “I just want more time before we go for the main target.”
Dom’s eyes narrow, sharp as blades. “She’s got to you, hasn’t she?”
“Who?” I lift my gaze, feigning ignorance, but it’s useless. He sees straight through me. The Conti girl has more than got to me—she’s carved her way under my skin and set up camp in my heart.
“You know damn well who,” Dom shoots back, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Just admit it, brother. You’ve fallen for the mission.”
“She was never part of the mission,” I snap, my tone too defensive. “It’s strategy. I thought it’d be easier to get into the house through a back door than to go in guns blazing or worse—a public shooting. My plan is solid. It’s working. So stop trying to rush it.”
Dom gives a lazy shrug, like he’s already bored with this conversation. “Should’ve let me handle the girl. Bet I’d have got the job done twice as fast.”
I step in closer, my jaw tight. “It’s delicate. She’s not like other girls.”
“Oh yeah? What makes her so special?” He leans forward, intrigued, and rests his elbows on the table.
“She’s a virgin.”
Dom barks a laugh. No shame. “Of course she is. No fucker’s stupid enough to touch her…” His smile sharpens into a deadly stare. “Except you, you dumb bastard.”
My fists clench. “What the fuck are you trying to say? If you’re talking about her weight, I’ll bust your fucking nose.”
Dom rolls his eyes, snorting. “Fuck me, you really have got it bad.” He shakes his head, the smirk lingering. “You know me better than that. I meant because she’s a Conti.”
Before I can fire back, he grabs a flyer off the counter and tosses it at me. “Anyway, I can hack the security system, kill the cameras. We don’t need your back-door plan.” He nods towards the flyer. “Or we get him here.”
I lift the flyer.
“He’s at this event tomorrow night. So-called charity gala for battered women.” Dom huffs, bitter amusement curling his lip. “Call it poetic justice.”
My gut twists. The so-called charity is a front for laundering blood money and trafficking vulnerable women. Too many have disappeared under his name.
“This is personal.” My voice drops low and lethal.
“I want to send a message. The Contis need to know we don’t outsource our kills.
I want to look him in the eyes before I put a bullet between them.
I want him to know it’s us—me—who’s been picking off his men one by one.
I’m not taking him out from a distance at some glitzy event. He deserves to feel it.”
Dom studies me, head tilted. “So, where does that leave the girl?”
“Nobody touches the girl.”
Dom’s all too knowing grin spreads across his face. “So you do like her.”
“Drop it,” I bite out.
He leans in, prodding the bruise just to watch me flinch. “What’s the problem, huh? You scared she’s gonna look at you like you’re the villain you are when she finds out you killed her dear old daddy? Is that what you’re worried about?”
“She hates her father. That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is it?” He raises a brow, goading. “You want more time to get into her knickers? Break her virgin pussy in, nice and slow?”
The table flips before I register my fury, his glass toppling as I grab his shirt in my fists and shove him back into the chair. The flyer flutters to the floor between us like a white flag—but I’m not in the mood to back down. “Don’t you ever talk about her like that.”
Dom raises his hands in mock surrender, a smirk still tugging at his lips. “Easy, brother. Easy.” His gaze flicks to my grip on his shirt, then back to my eyes. “So you do like her, then?”
I glare at him, my jaw tight as I loosen my fists and let him go. He knows. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s enjoying every second. “Just give me one more week,” I grind out. “We’ve got time before we’re back on tour.”
Dom pushes out of the chair, standing tall until we’re nose to nose. “Fine,” he concedes, though his grin says he’s not done enjoying this. “One more week.” He slaps my shoulder as he passes. “You’d better make your move, brother. Before your sweet little Conti flower gets plucked by someone else.”
Dom’s words echo in my head even now, chasing me like ghosts I can’t outrun.
Back at Rose’s home, I pull the car into the driveway, my jaw tight, my thoughts still tangled in the past.
The kid’s not said a word on the drive home, just sat there with his headphones on and a scowl carved into his face like it’s permanent.
Rose unclips her seatbelt, her hand brushing over my biceps in silent apology. She offers me a tight, worried smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
I follow them inside, tossing the car keys onto the console table with a clatter.
Angelos kicks off his shoes, hard, like they’ve personally offended him, and mutters under his breath, “Why is he staying here again?”
“Angelos, that’s enough,” Rose says, and it’s the first time I’ve heard her sharp with him.
His eyes narrow, his lips pressed to a thin, hard line. “You’re cheating on Dad.”
The word Dad hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest. I freeze in the kitchen doorway at the mention of Magnus.
Rose drops her purse on the counter, her expression tight. “Me and your… me and Magnus aren’t together.”
“Yeah, because of him.” Angelos flashes me a lethal glance, his entire attitude a complete contrast to the kid I saw on his birthday. What the hell happened? Is this what turning thirteen does to them?
My jaw ticks, back teeth grinding, but I force myself to let Rose handle it. She’s more than capable.
“It’s nothing to do with Dan.” Rose rubs at her temple, her shoulders slumping as if defeated by the weight of it all. Torn between me and her son.
“If Dad were here, you wouldn’t be sleeping around.”
“Watch your tone, mate.”
His eyes flash with defiance. “Don’t call me mate.”
I step farther into the room, keeping my voice firm but even, though my pulse thunders in my ears. “Then show your mother some respect.”
“Why should I?” he snaps, chin jutting forward. “He—” He flicks a glare at Rose. “He’s not my dad.”
Silence slams down, thick and suffocating, like a storm cloud about to burst.
My fists curl at my sides, heat flooding my chest. The truth is right there, burning on the tip of my tongue. I am your father. I want to shout it, roar it at him until the truth finally breaks through his stubborn skull.
But Rose was right.
You don’t drop a truth bomb like that in the middle of a screaming match. Not if you want it to land the right way.
Rose draws a steadying breath and looks him dead in the eye. “Don’t you dare speak to Dan like that.”
Angelos scoffs. “So you’re just gonna let your boyfriend talk to me like I’m shit? You’re taking his side?”
“That’s enough,” I bark, my voice booming across the kitchen, my patience snapping.
His cheeks flush with angry heat. “No, it’s not enough! You come in here like you own the place, like you own us. Well, you don’t!” His voice cracks with emotion, matching my own rage and heartbreak colliding in my chest.
He shoves past Rose, his shoulder bumping hers, and storms towards the stairs. “I hate you!” he yells over his shoulder, before thundering up the steps and slamming his bedroom door hard enough to shake the frame.
The words hit her like a blade, her shoulders curling inward as if to shield herself from the impact. Rose rubs her temples, eyes closing for a moment as if she’s holding back tears.
I let out a slow breath, unclenching my fists, my whole body thrumming with frustration and the ache of unsaid words.
“I wanted to tell him,” I say quietly, my voice rough. “Right there and then. But you were right.” I glance towards the ceiling, as if I can still feel the echo of his footsteps. “He’s not ready.”
Her shoulders sag. “Neither am I. I’m scared, Dan. I’m scared I’m going to lose him.”
“Hey.” I corner the counter and wrap her in my arms. “Let him cool off. I’ll try to talk to him later.”
“I’ll talk to him.” Her voice wavers. “We had such a great time on Monday for his birthday. He was so happy. And now…” Her words dissolve into silence, but a chill creeps down my spine.
It’s like he’s been poisoned against us.
Against me.
And I’ve no idea how to cure it.
Maybe Dom was right all those years ago.
Only it’s our son that sees me as the villain.