Chapter 36
ROMI
Iroll my shoulders and stretch my neck from side to side. It’s been a productive day. With Sienna and Elanee’s help, everything has started rolling into motion, and I’ve finished the first canvas. I study it from a distance, proud of what I've created.
The oranges and golds pierce through like sunlight beneath the black.
The first painting depicts Lorraine sitting in our bay window, writing in a notepad.
She’d often come up here and write notes with plot ideas.
There is a resounding expression of peace in her features.
I think most people give off the same vibe when they’re doing what they love most.
A chill runs through me as I wonder if Dante has a similar air about him when he kills. I'm pretty sure he does, because I saw it that night at the bar when he took on Drew and his friends. He'd been emitting a sense of giddy anticipation.
I hear the apartment door open, so I quickly take a photo of the first complete piece and send it to my agent before heading downstairs.
Borris is ahead of me, joyfully racing down the steps to greet Dante.
When I hit the bottom step, I stop, crossing my arms over my chest. All of my earlier irritation bubbles back to the surface, and it’s his smirk that triggers me.
The fucker always knows exactly how to wind me up.
“You had no right, Dante Moretti.”
“Oooh, I do love how my name rolls off your tongue, Cattivella.”
“This isn’t a joke. Boundaries! How many times have we spoken about them?
” I round the corner of the couch as he places his helmet down on the coffee table.
I notice the slight limp in his gait, that sliver of guilt unfurling in me again.
This entire relationship with Dante has been a wild roller coaster, and I know it will most likely always be like this.
“Did Elanee and Sienna come over today?” he asks.
“Don’t change the subject.”
A knock comes at the door, and he’s grinning like he knows his little plan is coming together. He still doesn’t look like he’s slept much. Is he even eating?
He walks over to open the door, but when he does, he immediately raises his hand. “Don’t! I have the dog in my hand.”
I peer over his shoulder, surprised to see Lorenzo and Lily. The moment Dante releases Borris, he excitedly runs straight to Lily. She’s half distracted as she stands behind a seriously pissed Lorenzo.
“Lorenzo, you said it was only to talk,” Lily says to Lorenzo reproachfully.
Before I can speak, Dante breaks out into a benevolent smile. “Okay, go.”
Lorenzo hits Dante so hard, he goes flying back and smashes into the coffee table, which breaks apart under the force.
“What the fuck?!” I scream, quickly running toward Dante.
“I wouldn’t get involved with this, Romi,” Lorenzo growls as he steps into the apartment like a predator, looming over Dante like he’s about to kill him—and he might actually do it.
“Lorenzo!” Lily yells angrily from behind him.
I crouch in front of Dante, who is wiping his mouth, seemingly impressed with his brother's blow. Then he jumps to his feet, that excited glint in his gaze, and I know neither Lily or I will be able to intervene. They don’t even see us.
Is this what a lifetime of resentment looks like?
The two scuffle, and I jump back beside Lily, watching in horror as the two punch one another wildly in the too-small space. Furniture is shoved to the side, and paintings and picture frames fall to the floor and are trampled on as they wrestle one another.
My eyes grow wide as I realize they’re not going to stop. They have years of hatred toward one another built up between them, and it's all coming to a head here and now.
Borris is barking as Lily holds him tightly so he can’t wriggle free. When I look at her, she's shaking her head and apologizing. But this isn’t her fault. This is years of these assholes not being able to communicate properly, and it’s not a surprise, considering their upbringing.
They clutch at one another’s collars as they roll against the wall, and impending doom stirs inside me as they shift toward the giant llama statue.
“Not the llama statue!” I yell as I run toward it, holding my arms out wide in front of it. “Dante, stop.”
Surprisingly, he does, and takes another hit to the face because of it. Blood mars both of them, and as Lorenzo raises his fist once more, Lily shouts, “Enough, Lorenzo!”
His swing freezes midair, and the men stare at one another, almost silently antagonizing the other to start the fight all over again. There’s nothing but disdain and rage in Lorenzo's gaze, whereas Dante smirks, imploring him to hit him again.
My heart slowly breaks as I realize they have both turned into who they are today because of an abusive father and a broken family.
They’ve hardly been able to evolve from that conditioning because a world like theirs doesn’t cater to what probably looks like weakness in their eyes.
Dante has simply continued to be the antagonist, as if it’s the only way he can gain his brother's attention.
He told me he used a similar tactic on his father to take his attention away from beating Lorenzo, but I know deep down, Dante has created a game out of it, and it hurts to realize this is all he ever thought his worth measured up to.
For all his arrogance and self-assurance, this is the only way he knows how to get his brother's attention.
I know he cares. He has to. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t go to these lengths. Wouldn’t still carry around a photo of him and his siblings.
“I apologize, Romi.” Lorenzo is first to speak, with his fist still raised. “However, you don’t know this man.”
“I know plenty,” I say firmly. Even though I haven't really known Dante for that long, I know faults, and I know his heart. I know what kind of man he is. And although he doesn’t get gold stars for morals, I know he cares deeply for those he loves.
Lorenzo shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”
I step up to him then, pinning him with a glare. “Who are you to come into my home and tell me what I do and don’t know?” I place my hand over his, where it clutches Dante's shirt. “Release him. Now.”
“Lorenzo,” Lily warns, standing behind him.
Lorenzo looks at me for the first time, and I see it now, the killer beneath the mask. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. I thought when he and Lily started hanging out together, that he was the intense type, and at most, a bodyguard. But I see it so clearly now.
“He shouldn’t have involved you in his games to get back at me,” Lorenzo says, shoving Dante into the wall but releasing him.
I point my finger at Dante before he can spit whatever smartass comeback he was about to make.
He seems surprised, but then grins as he stands there, letting me take the floor.
It’s not that I’m shocked by Lorenzo perceiving Dante's intentions that way; in fact, Dante most likely did precisely that. Put himself in a position to be close to me simply because I was Lily’s friend. I mean, it’s obvious now.
So I only have one question for Dante, but I know the answer before I even ask.
“Is this real? Between us?” I ask him. And although I’m confident that it is, my heart stutters at the thought that maybe all this time I really had been a fool.
What if it really was just to get at Lorenzo?
What if I’d played right into his hands so perfectly that I’d deluded myself into thinking it was real?
Dante's smile vanishes, and it’s the most serious I’ve ever seen him. “Every part. It didn't start off that way. I thought if I could carve deeper into my brother’s world, it would infuriate him. But I didn’t know you then. Not like I do now. You have to believe me, Romi. I love you.”
He loves me.
My heart stops. I already knew it. I’ve felt it for a while.
But hearing him say it with that strange look on his face, like he's expecting everything to backfire and fall apart in front of him?
Like he might actually have something to lose for once—is refreshing.
Dante is showing his vulnerability, and what makes me despise this situation most is the fact he let his brother beat the shit out of him because somewhere beneath all of that smartass exterior—he thinks he deserves it.
“He’s a liar!” Lorenzo booms, and I swing an accusing finger back in his direction, and his mouth immediately shuts.
Lily doesn’t speak, simply watches. It’s not like she’s surprised by my temperament or me putting men in their place; neither is anything new.
But where she’s changed is that she no longer flinches around violence.
She remains present during conflict, whereas before she used to noticeably shrink into herself, almost like a deer in headlights.
She never told me why, and it always felt like a wall between us.
And I accepted that part about her, because, in truth, it enabled me to keep her at arm’s length as well.
Like I had with everyone around me, it saddens me to admit it to myself, because we've been friends for so long. But all of this distance ends now.
We all have our secrets. But somewhere, somehow, that version of her is gone, and I have every reason to believe it has everything to do with Lorenzo.
And despite beating the shit out of the man I’m defending, who, to an extent, deserves it because he’s a shit-stirrer, I like Lorenzo. But I’ll draw the line here.
“He’s not the only one in this room with secrets.
You two need to sort your shit out. Just because you’re a part of the Italian mafia, it doesn’t give you permission to act like savages in front of ladies.
Now, sit your asses down and buckle up, because we’re about to hash this shit out once and for all. ”
Lorenzo’s eyes widen in surprise, and Lily chokes out a laugh but tries to hide it. The violent tension in the room dissipates ever so slightly.
“I’m sorry.” Tears spring to Lily’s eyes. “It’s just, it’s so good to see you’re back to your usual self.” Lorenzo's body relaxes when he sees her smile.
“She’s the best, isn’t she?” Dante says as he slides his arms around my waist, and I elbow him in the stomach. “You need to sit your ass down as well. We’re not dick-swinging here anymore.”
Dante chuckles as he takes two steps back, rights the toppled-over couch, and takes a seat.
“Then what are we doing, Cattivella?”
“Something much worse. We’re going to talk about our feelings.”
And the smile drops from his face.