12. Dante
12
DANTE
Monday, September 30, 5:30 PM
Liam’s dead.
So, there’s that.
His death solves several of my problems, but the horror I saw in Victoria’s eyes tells me this is going to be one more thing in her life she won’t be able to forget. Something she never should’ve had to go through.
If I could wish for anything, it’d be to wipe all this out of her head and make our Angelo problem go the fuck away for good. I wish I would’ve known what was coming, wish I could go back in time to stop Liam from announcing an engagement to Victoria and putting her on Angelo’s radar like a fucking idiot.
It got him killed.
Well, that and getting involved with the mob in the first place.
The kid honestly didn’t know what this world was like or what he was getting himself into. All of this could’ve been avoided if he had just let me handle it. I didn’t expect him to trust me completely, not when I’d barely been part of his life before my brother died thanks to his bitch of a mother, but we could’ve talked through things. I could have convinced him to let me do things my way.
Instead, I spent the afternoon cleaning up his blood and wrapping his body in several sheets. I’ve stashed him in the garage of our rental house for now, but eventually the smell of decomposition will make the neighbors ask questions.
I’ll take care of the body tonight. However, Victoria needs me. I don’t want to leave her alone in the house right now. She couldn’t stop shaking in my arms, and while everything in me screamed not to leave her alone, I couldn’t leave Liam on the floor forever. It would’ve been a bitch to try and get the blood stains out of the floorboards.
Entering our shared bedroom, I find Victoria curled up in a ball underneath the covers. Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot from her tears, but at least she’s lifted her head enough to peek at me from her nest.
Guilt tugs at me as I realize that once again, I’ve failed her. What Angelo did today was yet another thing I couldn’t save her from. Honestly, when this is all over, Victoria would be a lot better off without me in her life. I come with too much fucking bullshit.
“Princess,” I murmur softly as I near her side of the bed, “can I make you something to eat?”
She shakes her head in response to my admittedly stupid question. The last thing she’s thinking about is food, but it’s still a necessity. I don’t even know how much she’s eaten over the last few days while I’ve been holed up inside the office putting together our escape plan.
Enzo came through with the information and help I need to get us out of here. I’m just worried he’s going to trip a red flag when he gets the papers she’s going to need when we’re in Paris.
“Move over,” I order, climbing underneath the covers and pulling her to my chest. She tangles her legs with mine, searching for a way to get closer, and I don’t mind a bit.
Maybe two weeks ago I would’ve resisted. But this girl has been through so much shit, I’d be a fucking douchebag if I didn’t allow her to take whatever comfort she wanted.
“You want to move to another house?” She shakes her head. I hate that she hasn’t spoken a word yet. That she can’t. “Things are about to start moving very quickly. I need you to be thinking about what comes next.”
Deafening silence fills the room. Maybe if I explain more of what is happening, she’ll understand what I’m really saying. Why I’ve been holed up for days. What we still have to accomplish.
“I’m getting you a passport so we can?—”
“No,” she rasps, pushing back from me. “He’ll see. He’ll find out. He’ll be back and?—”
“My guy is discreet. A pro. There are ways to get around Angelo without?—”
“I don’t want to take that chance,” Victoria argues with furrowed brows. “We can’t leave. He probably has someone watching this house and—how did he know we left town? How did he know that you came and found me?”
“Liam could’ve told him and?—”
“Why would he do that? Liam was a moron, but why would he rat himself out to the man that’s trying to get paid ? Liam wouldn’t just show up at his house and tell him he was trying to flee with me and my money and it failed so?—”
“I don’t know,” I reply calmly, cutting through her rambling. She could be right. Angelo could be watching our every move right now. “That’s why you need to go back to school and act as though nothing’s going on.”
“I can’t,” she retorts. “I just filed the leave of absence. People are going to ask?—”
“Things change. You need the distraction of classes,” I tell her. “You’re not ready to talk about what happened. People will carry on with their lives. They’ll look somewhere else for gossip.” I inhale a deep breath. “I need to talk to Liam’s mother about how we’re going to handle things.”
“He’s dead?”
Oh, my sweet wife. You know he is.
I understand needing the confirmation, but I don’t want to be the one to give it. And I can’t pretend to be even the slightest bit upset about it either. Liam was in my way, he jeopardized my plans—he kidnapped my wife —and now he’s dead.
I nod my head once and Victoria loses it again.
A choked wail hits my ears, and she tucks her chin into her chest and begins to cry. I don’t understand why she’s so upset over Liam. Her grief fills me with rage and makes me suspicious of her real feelings for my brother’s son.
I can’t change what happened. And after everything, her empathy for him is unwarranted. Liam doesn’t deserve any of it. For God’s sake, he hit her when she turned him down and was about to let his buddy rape her in that junkyard of a house.
There’s nothing heroic or noble about it.
He could’ve killed her—probably would have if I hadn’t gotten there when I did.
Victoria is too good for this world. She doesn’t deserve any of this.
“Don’t cry,” I soothe, running my fingers through her hair. “He’s not worth your tears, princess. Especially not after what he did to you.”
It’s still hard to look at her and see the fading bruises and not want to throttle Liam until he takes his last breath. Angelo stole that from me, the fucker, and while I can say I’m not the one who murdered him, I still wish I were. The issue is lying to Victoria and denying that his death is something I wanted with every fiber of my being.
“I want you to start thinking about Paris,” I elaborate. “And your degree?—”
“I won’t have it by the time?—”
“Pick a school. I’ll pay for it—” Victoria attempts to pull out of my grasp and I allow her some space, but not as much as she tried for.
This is the reality of our situation.
She can’t stay here in the States. It isn’t safe. It’s not realistic for me to be glued to her side forever. My goal has always been to make sure she gets out of this shitshow alive. And I can’t do that here. When Angelo is taken care of—or not, if he’s on high alert and suspects us of plotting something already—someone will take his place. And they’ll either let bygones be bygones or we’ll be hunted forever.
And then there’s that dinner he’s plotting.
“I can’t do this,” Victoria states, still not looking me in the eye. “I had everything planned out. I don’t know how to finish my culinary degree in Paris. I was supposed to get a pastry certification on top of having the base credentials. I’m still working on my French. I’m not sure if my credits can transfer over and I probably can’t even look into it because Angelo might find out, and then he’ll know where we are?—”
“I’ll take care of all of that.” Fuck me. I didn’t think about her school credits. She’s fucked unless I can get the administrators at Thronewood and Graham to give me copies of her transcripts with a different name on them. One would be difficult enough, but two?
It’s a long shot of epic proportions.
“How?” Victoria argues back. “There’s no possible way I can continue on like this. My life is literally ruined because of your brother. Because of Liam. Because no one will leave me alone !”
She has every right to be pissed, and I refuse to feed her a bullshit line about everything being okay eventually.
I can’t promise that.
“We could change your name,” I suggest evenly. “You can start somewhere new, with a new identity?—”
“Great,” she huffs, her blue eyes turning icy. “Just what I’ve always wanted. To never be myself and to always have secrets?—”
“I’m sorry, princess, I’m trying. I know you didn’t ask for this, but I’m doing the best I can.”
“Just leave,” she cries, making my skin prickle with unease. “Go do what you need to do somewhere else. Get away from all this bullshit and save yourself. There’s no need to keep bending over backward to try and make all this happen. I’ll fake a pregnancy and pay Angelo off with my trust fund and we can put an end to this massive headache.”
That’s the thing.
Angelo would gladly take the money, but I saw how he looked at her. I caught the once-over and the approval in his eyes.
He wants her.
He invited us to dinner to learn more about her. It’s a trap I’m not sure we’ll be able to avoid.
“That’s not going to happen,” I vow, flipping back the comforter and standing from the bed.
“Dante, I can’t leave. I need—” I spin on my heels and pin her with a glare.
“You need to be alive , Victoria. That man will not leave you the fuck alone after you pay him back. He’ll want more. And if you won’t give it to him willingly, he’ll take it. You’re not safe here.”
“What is he going to do, huh?” she says, sitting up from the tangle of bedding. “He can’t bully us forever. The cops have to be sniffing around him for something. If he keeps bothering me, I’ll?—”
“We’re done talking about this. You don’t know shit about men like him. He will either keep you for himself or sell you to the highest bidder. Your career will be the least of your worries if he gets his hands on you, princess. Your best bet is to follow my lead and adapt.”
Her facial expression shifts to ugly hatred. She’s reached the end of her rope as it finally clicks for her that the life she knew is officially over.
All it took for that realization to hit was her ex being shot to death.
What complete and utter fucking shit.
“ I’ll decide what I want to do,” she fumes. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“I will be if I have to. You’re not going through this alone. I married you to protect you. The last thing you’re going to do is pay this motherfucker thinking you can go back to life before he knew you existed. Your life will never be the same again. You can thank the ex-boyfriend that you so pointlessly cried for. He fucked you over, but I got involved to make sure you don’t die, or worse.”
Victoria’s jaw locks, but in the next second I can see her nostrils flare as she takes a deep, calming breath. “You know I appreciate that?—”
“I don’t,” I lie. I know she’s grateful, but the truth is, I don’t enjoy seeing my wife shed tears over another man. One that’s been inside her, that wanted her for himself. No matter how long or short the affair may have been. “My offer still stands. When I get you out of the States, we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll give you a divorce without taking a dime of your money. You’ll be able to live your life in peace and start over with new friends and people who will support you. You obviously don’t have that here with your parents. So, maybe this was a blessing in disguise.”
“Just because I have a soul, Dante,” Victoria growls low, “doesn’t mean I have unresolved feelings for Liam. He died next to me. I heard him fall to the ground. None of that was supposed to happen.”
“I’m glad it did,” I confess wholeheartedly. “Because now I don’t have to worry about him touching you again or stirring up even more shit. However, I still have him to thank for Angelo’s dinner invitation. Fuck knows what his intentions are and if he’s about to screw my whole fucking plan up.”
Victoria frowns. “What do you mean?”
I shake my head at my little ray of sunshine. She isn’t getting it. Angelo is not a good man. Obviously, she saw him kill my nephew. But now she’s an even bigger target than before. “He wants you, princess.”
And that means I’ve moved to the top of his hit list, although I don’t tell her that.
Angelo can have my head blown off next so that I’m not an obstacle in his game anymore. Without me around to fight for her, he could easily take Victoria’s money and keep her.
“He—you’re sure?” she asks me. “But we’re married.”
I level an exasperated look at her. “You think that matters to him?”
My wife doesn’t reply, not that she needs to. We’re stuck in this, and whether she wants to accept it or not, there’s no way out. But I’ll be her savior and her villain—by any means necessary.
I’m her husband.
Even if my wife did just weep for hours over her asshole ex-boyfriend.
Even if she doesn’t want anything I have to offer, despite the fact that I’m doing everything I can to make sure she’s still breathing at the end of the day.
“I’ll come back to check up on you,” I manage to bite out, needing some space to get my head back on straight.
This woman is making me feel things I have no business feeling, and I’ve gotten too involved.
She doesn’t want me.
That’s good.
But I want her so badly that it’s causing me physical pain.
I need to get that shit under control.