13. Victoria
13
VICTORIA
Wednesday, October 2
Dante hasn’t come back to our bedroom in two days, and it’s driving me insane.
He’s locked himself back into his office, never leaving unless I’m upstairs. It’s obvious he’s avoiding me.
I’m not sure if it’s for his benefit or mine.
I know what I said and did was wrong. I got so caught up and twisted in my head that I let poison spill from my lips and acted like I didn’t care. I’m fully aware that Liam used me, that I wouldn’t be in this mess if he had just left me alone. I know Dante has been protecting me at all costs, putting himself at risk, and that he’s done everything in his power to make sure I have a future after this.
Yet, I still said all those ungrateful, shitty things and that weighs on me. Dante may be agonizing over my supposed feelings for Liam, but he has nothing to worry about on that front.
In fact, I know deep down that I’m really falling for my husband. I can’t allow myself to examine my emotions too closely, but even though I am willfully ignoring my own heart, I can’t deny what’s happening.
Especially when we fight.
The idea of losing him, of never seeing him again, is a looming nightmare and I hope it will never become a reality. However, Dante wasted no time in reminding me that once we get to Paris, we are through.
No discussion, no trying to make it work.
Just over.
Hearing his cold declaration made my stomach flip inside out.
Not only because his words meant I would be alone in Paris, but because they meant he can easily imagine separating from me. That the idea doesn’t fill him with dread.
It should’ve been the slap in the face that I clearly need.
Instead, I’m entering his study without knocking to bring him a lunch he didn’t ask for.
His dark eyes cut upwards, meeting mine as he pauses in reading from his laptop. The sudden weight of his attention after two days of nothing makes me hesitate in the door, but I power through, clutching the plate like it’s a lifeline.
I made him a grilled cheese sandwich.
Nothing extravagant. I didn’t have enough energy for anything more complicated than this. The back and forth is killing me. I’ve never been one to enjoy not knowing where I stand. This gulf between us is taunting me, fraying my sanity.
“I brought you something to eat,” I manage to get out, approaching his desk and placing the plate next to a stack of papers. He’s wearing a black Henley and jeans, the only pop of color an olive-green denim jacket. The stubble along his jawline has lengthened into a short beard and exhaustion is visible in the lines framing his eyes. “I’m sorry if?—”
“You’re the only bit of light I’ve seen in two days, princess,” he assures me, his voice a comforting rumble. “Come here.”
I close the distance between us without pausing to think. As I round the desk, Dante turns his chair and pulls me into his lap, cradling me close.
Instantly, I’m wrapped in an aura of safety. Contentment fills me. I never want to leave.
His large palm falls to my thigh and he spreads his fingers, running his thumb up and down my leggings in soothing strokes. “How have you been?”
“Awful.”
He doesn’t pause in his rhythmic stroking, and I can’t tell how my honesty affects him. “Why?”
“Everything that’s happened…the things I said…”
“You were upset. Liam was a part of your life before me. I can’t change that, Victoria.”
“It wasn’t because he was dead,” I retort. “I mean, it was. A man was shot next to me, and I knew him… It just didn’t feel real. I didn’t want him to get hurt, but it doesn’t mean I wanted him.”
Dante lets his eyes drift away from my face. A sense of hopelessness fills me, the loss of his attention as devastating as a ship at sea losing its anchor. He grounds me. I’ve been relying on him so heavily, and it isn’t a smart idea. Especially when he’s planning to dump me across the pond and leave me there—alone.
Maybe that’s why I’m so scared.
Or maybe it’s because you’re falling in love with him.
“Dante, about the plan,” I finally say, breaking the awkward silence. “Are there no other choices?”
“I’m afraid not.”
I drop my head. I’ll miss Ellie. I haven’t even texted her since leaving Rochester. I trusted her with my life. But I don’t want to risk pulling her deeper into this mess, or risk someone like Angelo convincing her that helping him would be helping me. To be honest, it’s a miracle she hasn’t called in the cavalry to hunt me down.
“Where will you go?” I ask despite not really wanting to know. But I’ll need something approaching closure. I know we’re not in France yet, but I want to know he’s going to find a way to be happy.
“Home,” he states flatly. “Back to Portofino.”
“Is it nice there?”
“Beautiful.” He leans over and plucks a piece of paper off his desk, handing it to me. “My contact, Enzo, can get you a passport, but you need to change your identity. You can never be Victoria Waldorf again, princess.”
His words don’t register at first as I stare down at a handwritten list of names in Dante’s no-frills print. The letters dance in my vision, blending together until they don’t make much sense at all.
“Are you changing your name?”
The scratch of his beard against the top of my head accompanies a shake of denial. “No. I’ll be safe in Portofino. No one can touch me there, not with my connections.”
“You should,” I retort softly. “If I have to.” I glance up at him, finding him already looking at me with strained features. “That way, you won’t have to look over your shoulder forever.”
“I’m more worried about you.”
And just like that, he has a hold of me again.
It doesn’t matter how much I fight it or tell myself that this won’t end the way I want it to, I desire him. I’m pulled and dragged toward him like a compass needle pointing to true north. I can feel my doom approaching, preparing to burn down my whole world, but I have no choice but to accept my fate.
No amount of reason can break this spell. No amount of self-talk or preparation will make me believe that I’m better off without him.
“Pick a name,” Dante stresses. “I need to let him know ASAP.”
Begrudgingly, I look back down at the paper and read the names.
“ Glenda? ” I choke out, almost outraged until I feel Dante’s body shaking. I steal a quick glance up at him and see he’s doing his best not to laugh. Too late . “Who in the world is still named Glenda?”
Dante lifts his shoulders in a goofy shrug. “Someone, I suppose.”
Returning to the list, I squint my eyes in a glare. “Mora? Dante, please?—”
“They get better, princess.”
“I am not going to waltz around Paris with a name like Olga Birth.” Dante’s body shakes even harder, and this is ridiculous. “Oh, Moxie Morrow sounds nice.”
For a stripper.
These names are absolutely, without question, God awful.
“I like Lucy,” Dante chimes in. “It means ‘of light’. It suits you.”
Oh, how this man’s opinion can sway me like the wind.
“The last name is Mathers,” I huff like a brat. “It’s so…”
“Plain?”
“Eminem.”
Dante barks out in laughter, and it’s amazing. There’s nothing I want more than this right here. Being this close and hearing his mirth.
“I guess it’ll do,” I sigh. “It’s better than the rest of them.”
My husband squeezes me a bit closer. “Good. I’ll let him know. I also have him forging your transcripts. I’m curious to see how good he is with something like that.”
“He can get me a new identity and passport, but he’s never faked someone’s college paperwork before?”
“It’s not a common request,” Dante replies. “He’ll run them by me for approval before we have to leave.”
And there it is.
A new name for a brand new life in the city I always dreamed of making my own. None of it changes the fact that Dante won’t be there. That I can’t tell him that I’m breaking inside just imagining him walking away from me. From us.
Baring my soul will only make me feel worse and it won’t change anything for the better. It would probably just make things worse.
Dante isn’t going to want to settle down with a twenty-year-old.
I’m too young, too flighty.
Too inexperienced when it comes to how the world works. I’ve never actually lived on my own. I don’t want him to feel like he has to parent me or be a father figure all the time, since my own sperm donor has never stepped up to the plate. I haven’t even heard from my father since the whole Liam thing went off the rails. He must really trust my mother to deal with anything concerning me.
“You’re worried,” Dante states matter-of-factly. “But it’ll all work out.”
“You have so much confidence in me. How will I get on without it?”
“You’re a smart girl, princess. You’re capable of anything.”
Girl.
Not woman.
This shit really fucking sucks.
I nod my head, not really having anything to say. Dante never led me on. No, I did that to myself. Everything I’ve felt or imagined is a result of my own creative thinking. He hasn’t said or done anything to make me think he wants more. My heart has harbored this dream all by itself.
Yeah, we’ve had some great sex, but Dante has his own goals for the future. And I’m sure they don’t include babysitting me for the rest of his life, making sure I don’t fuck things up. He’s already given me enough—my life—and I can’t ask for more than that. I can’t ask that he give up what he wants for himself just to make me happy.
“Why do you look as though you don’t believe me?” Dante asks me. I need to learn how to guard my facial expressions more. I need to get my head on straight.
“I do,” I reply, working to sound as confident as I possibly can. “I have to, right? You didn’t save me for nothing.”
Dante gives me a small smile. “I don’t know, Lucy. The world would’ve been a little darker without you in it.”
I hate how he keeps managing to say all the right things. I’m not strong enough to stand against who he is as a man and how he makes my chest explode with emotion.
Rising from his lap, I regret the loss of his touch immediately and decide to go upstairs to bang my head against a wall several times. “Make sure you eat your lunch. I put a whole eight minutes into that.”
“Victoria.”
My eyes snap shut, but I turn around to face him. I have to get through this shit.
Slowly, I inhale and look at his steely expression.
“Angelo finally reached out. We’re to join him for dinner tomorrow.” He knows I don’t want to go, there’s no need for me to say it aloud. But I haven’t been getting much of anything I wish for lately—might as well keep with the trend. “I need you to do something for me.”
The man doesn’t have to ask. Whatever he needs, it’s already done as far as I’m concerned.
“Sure, what is it?”
“If shit goes down…I need you to run. I’m giving you the address to a safe house and a phone number to get in contact with Enzo. He’ll get you out of the country?—”
“What are you talking about, Dante?” My voice quivers and almost breaks. This can’t be goodbye. I’m not sure what he thinks will happen, but I’m walking out of Angelo Lombardi’s house with him at my side, no matter what.
“If we don’t go to dinner, Angelo is going to be insulted. No one says no to him. He’s a short man with a tall ego and he takes offense very easily. I’ve dealt with men like him before. However, I have no idea what he’s going to try while you’re present, and that’s concerning.”
“What could he possibly be planning?” I roll my eyes at Dante’s tight jaw and shuttered expression. “I need you to be straight with me. I don’t want to walk in there and be surprised.”
“I told you the other day he wanted you, princess. I meant it. There’s a chance he may use the dinner to…”
To take me away from Dante?
“We can’t go,” I retort firmly. “I can’t do this without you. I’m not leaving?—”
“It’s what I need you to do. For me,” he returns. “It’s what I’m asking you to do. There are no second chances, princess. If shit goes down, you need to know what to do next. You need to look for the exits on your way in, memorize the hallways you go down and how many men there are and where. Everything has to be locked in your head with your escape route front and center. You can’t hesitate.”
“I won’t leave you.”
Dante slowly stands, towering over me as if he can intimidate me into obedience. If he got me in the right position, maybe he’d have a chance at convincing me. Thankfully, his lips aren’t on my skin, so I still have a shot at arguing my point.
“I know this is hard,” he admits, his voice gentle. “I never wanted you to have to do anything like this, but Liam had a knack for heaping endless trouble on us. You have to do this to ensure that everything I’ve done isn’t for nothing. I’ll find a way out. But I won’t be able to if I’m worrying about you while I figure out my own exit strategy.”
I take a step back, distancing myself from him. “You say this as if you already know what’s going to go down. As if you know we’re about to step into a trap.”
“You’re the perfect prize, Victoria.”
“Then why are we going?”
“Because—”
“If you’re telling me there’s a chance we won’t be walking out of there together, then I’m not going,” I argue. “You can’t make me. And you’re not going either.”
“Princess—”
“ No! ” I glower at him as I feel tears gathering in my eyes. God, I can’t possibly still have any tears left. I’ve been crying for days now. “I won’t do it. We’re a team, remember? You don’t get the final say. I won’t leave you with him. I’m not doing it, Dante.”
“Fine.” He wraps an arm around my waist and thumbs away a stray tear that drops to my cheekbone. “We won’t go. I’ll politely decline.”
I take advantage of his full frame, cuddling up in his arms for safety and comfort. “I’ll change my name to whatever, if it means we can get the passport faster.”
“I’ll let Enzo know,” he says above me, resting his chin along the top of my head. “But I don’t think it’ll make a difference. He’s already working on Lucy’s identity.”
It makes all the difference. Because no matter what name Enzo picks for me, Dante won’t stay my husband.
“I still want you to memorize this number, princess. You won’t be safe until we’re out of the country and I’m done tasking risks.”
I nod and repeat the ten digits he gives me.
“I mean it, princess. If you need the backup, you call. Tell Enzo whatever you need. He always comes through.”
“That’s it?” I ask. “Just like that?”
“No,” Dante replies harshly. “There’s a code word.”
And he whispers the word into my ear, branding me with it as he kisses a path down my chest and over my heart. I let him distract me with our need, giving myself over in silent thanks that he is determined to make sure my dreams survive the Lombardi mob.
But how will I ever survive losing my husband?