Chapter 15
Fifteen
Nikki
Lunch goes about as well as can be expected. I’m a bit relieved we end up cancelling our afternoon spa appointment because I don’t think Harper and I could handle another couple of hours together.
“You’re home, kitten,” Dante says, greeting me as soon as I’m in the door. His hands are all over me, his breath tickling my neck, and I swear the more I’m away, the more the man craves my company.
He helps me out of my coat, and I slip out of my shoes, following him down the hallway to his office.
Dante has his arm snaked around my waist as he pulls me into his private escape and shoves me against the door, slamming it shut behind us. His mouth is fused to mine, his tongue parting my lips, and I willingly oblige.
Nearly twenty years together, and this man still makes me weak at the knees. His lips pepper my skin, trailing down my neck, and I feel warmth flood through my body.
“Dante,” I mumble half-coherently as I try to focus on why we’re actually in his office.
It has nothing to do with sex, but somehow, we always forget that when it’s the two of us alone. It’s no wonder we only ended up with Luca and not a dozen children, but I’m grateful for the one I have.
“Tell me everything.” Dante kisses his way down my breasts, and my fingers tangle in his thick, dark hair as I pull his face back up to reach mine.
“She won’t betray the family,” I say, certain that I’ve spent enough time with her to know the truth.
“Are you sure?” Dante questions, his brow pinched as he pulls away from our heated exchange of kisses.
“She’s conflicted, that much is obvious, but she won’t mention what she saw last night or the boy, and I gave her the opportunity to tell me in private. You aren’t to harm a hair on her head,” I warn him.
A crooked grin crosses his features. It’s rare to see him smile, but I love it when he lets down his guard to let me inside. “Are you giving me orders, kitten?”
“I’m telling you that if you hurt her, our son will never forgive you.”
Dante pulls back and folds his arms across his chest. He crosses his legs as he leans back on the desk, considering my words. “There are other girls.”
“I haven’t spoken with Luca alone, but I suspect he loves her, and it’s obvious she cares deeply for him. You heard the two of them last night—”
Dante chuckles. “Who didn’t? But sex is just that—you and I were fucking long before we fell in love. He will find another girl if I choose to call the order.”
“You make that command, and you’ll be choosing a new wife,” I threaten.
Dante’s gaze tightens, and he steps closer to me once again. “Are you threatening me, kitten?”
“I’m reminding you that you almost lost your son once. You order the hit, and you will lose him forever.”
He lets out a soft sigh and turns away. He’s considering his words, or perhaps his actions.
“Do you honestly believe that Harper can be trusted?” He stalks to his desk and opens a folder waiting for him on his desk.
“Did you trust me when we first met?” I ask, turning the tables on him.
He smirks, staring down at the pages, examining each one closely while speaking to me. “I knew who you were the first moment I laid eyes on you, kitten. Why do you think I chose the name Daniel?”
Approaching his desk, I smack his arm and roll my eyes. “You fucked me to get to my father.” I always suspected that was the case, but I never heard him verbalize the truth. I want to be angry with him, but I honestly can’t hate the man I’m married to.
He saved my life, protected me, and helped me raise our son.
Luca might not forgive Dante for all he’s done, but he is a decent father. Gino, my old man, was far worse to me.
“I'll admit, as much as you hate Harper, she did try to save that little boy, Rylan.” There’s quite a bit of tenacity in her, and Dante can’t deny they are on the same side, even if Harper and Luca don’t realize it.
“I don’t hate her—” Dante says but lets the words linger in the air. “I just don’t trust her. She could destroy everything, get us killed, or worse, betray us.”
It’s impossible to know how she’ll react when she returns to campus. We can’t keep her holed up in our home indefinitely. As tempting as it might be, her friends, family, they would all grow suspicious.
“Do you trust my judgment?”
“Implicitly,” Dante says and glances up from the file, his fingers tangling in my hair as he brings my lips to his. “I’ve always trusted you; it’s you who hasn’t always trusted me,” he reminds me.
“That was a long time ago,” I say, “when we first met.” I smile against his lips and pull away. “What you’re doing with Rylan—it’s noble but misguided.”
“I didn’t ask for your advice—” he says, glaring at me, but he’s not angry. I’ve seen his angry glare, and it’s nothing like what he’s doing. His gaze is heated with lust more than anger.
“You brought him into our home, under our roof. You swore you’d never be involved in hurting children or trafficking them.”
“I’m not!” He looks exasperated. “Do you think I have another option? I ordered a hit on his father, the man who is trafficking children, responsible for raping dozens of underage girls—children. I’m sorry if his son got mixed up in this, but his family and his home is going to be razed, and the only way to guarantee the child was safe was to bring him here. ”
I press my lips together, saddened that this was the only option. “That boy will grow up one day to be a man, and he’s going to hate us,” I say, warning Dante of the danger he puts our family in, whether he intends to or not.
He pulls back from me, his eyes burning. He barely slept last night.
He’s not the only one robbed of sleep. After Moreno stormed into the room, awakening us and catching Dante up to speed while he got dressed, I couldn’t sleep.
I worried for my son, that Luca would get himself killed.
Dante doesn’t always have a level head, and while Moreno tries to keep shit from blowing up in both of their faces, this time was far worse for all involved.
“What am I supposed to do? The hit is scheduled for tomorrow night. I can’t just return the boy to his home. He’ll be killed with them.”
“And what’s your plan after his family is dead?” I ask. Sometimes I wonder if Dante fully thinks through the logistics of his actions. I love him, but sometimes his stubbornness gets in the way of protecting his family.
“I was going to have him find his way to the police.”
“Right, so he could identify you, our men, our home?” I’m not buying his story. “Dante, what the hell were you planning on doing with Rylan?”
“I was going to raise him as our own. Let them think he died in the explosion. The remains will be unidentifiable. They’ll assume he perished. With time, he’ll forget his past, his family, all of it.”
“He’s not an infant. He’ll remember his family, and the prison, the fear that you’ve invoked in him. Do you really think he’ll grow up as our son? What you’re suggesting is absolute madness. He could have other family—grandparents, an aunt or uncle.”
“I’ve already looked. There is no one else. He’ll end up in foster care. You said it yourself, Nikki. We can’t let him lead the police to our home. He’s seen our faces, which leaves the only viable options—he belongs to us or we kill him.”
“For fuck’s sake, Dante! We’re not killing a child.”
“Then I guess it’s settled. He shall be our son.”
I throw my arms up in the air. “You can’t just demand that and it becomes reality.” I remember the trauma that Nova had, how she’d been mute, and it took time to trust again.
“Besides, he sees us as his kidnappers. What happens next? You suddenly let him free, save him?”
“No, you will,” Dante says to me. “You’ll raise him, let him realize that we’re not to be feared, and with time, he will forget what happened in the cellar.”
“You’re wrong. He won’t forget. You can’t just erase his memories.”
“Tell me what you would do,” Dante says, his fingers reaching out to push the hair back from my face. “If you were don, how would you handle this little situation?”
“I wouldn’t have started with putting him in the prison basement!”
Dante winces, perhaps realizing his mistake. “He was only supposed to see Caden.” One liability could have been easily erased. “Harper fucked everything up when she came down those stairs. What would you do now?” he asks.
“Blaming Harper was your first mistake. You should have kept out of that basement and let only Caden and whoever else recaptured him into the prison. You were too busy worrying about your son’s involvement and the girl he likes, to think clearly,” I say.
“Anyone else, and I’d kill them for talking to me that way,” Dante scoffs.
“Well, you asked,” I say, not the least bit afraid of my husband. I’ve lived with him long enough to know his good moods from bad. He’s displeased but not ready to commit murder.
“I asked what you would do now, not what I did wrong,” he says.
He huffs and turns his back, returning his attention to the file on his desk, filled with pages on Harper McKenna.
Everything from her social media accounts, posts, texts, emails, medical, and hospital records.
It’s more than just your typical background check.
I pause, considering all the options and variables. “I would take Rylan upstairs, sit him in front of the television and let him watch the news. Let him see when the explosion makes the news, and he realizes his family and everyone he knows is dead.”
“Cruel,” Dante whispers, tilting his head at me. “You do have mafia blood in you.”
“I don’t suggest it to be cruel, only for him to realize that he has nowhere to go, and that we saved him.”
“He’ll blame us,” he says.
Dante is right. Rylan will blame us, but maybe we deserve the blame. We’re not innocent in all of this, and I don’t pretend to be a saint.
“There’s always Rhys,” I say, pursing my lips as I consider the implication of what I’m about to suggest. “Rhys and Rylan haven’t met. You ordered Rhys to remain outside of Nova’s door last night, am I correct?”
“Rhys is always protecting Nova,” Dante says. “He’s practically her own personal bodyguard.”
“Precisely. He’s good with kids. He knows how to protect them, and we could stage an escape where Rhys rescues Rylan. Then he takes him to a shitty motel, and they can witness the destruction of his family on the news. At which point, he’ll trust Rhys, and you can give them both new identities.”
He strokes his jaw as he considers my suggestion. “That’s not bad, except Rhys isn’t going to be thrilled with the new assignment. Full-time father to a kid who isn’t his?”
“Bump his salary and send them both to the Caymans or Costa Rica. Let Rhys have an early retirement when he’s done with raising Rylan. Rhys will do whatever you ask of him,” I say. “He’s a good soldier.”
“It’s asking a lot,” Dante says, realizing the weight of what he’s done, “but I think it’ll work.”
His attention returns once again to the file, which is now spread out on his desk, pages upon pages.
I glance over his shoulder, reviewing the information in front of us.
Harper McKenna.
He ran a background check on the girl, not a huge shock.
“Anything interesting?” I ask, perching myself at the edge of the desk.
“Yes,” he says and drags his finger over the highlighted portion that he wants me to read.
My breath catches in my throat as our eyes meet.
It seems Harper has been keeping a secret of her own.