Chapter 42
ROMI
“Dante!” I scream the moment the gun fires.
He wrestles the gun out of Shaun’s hand, and Lorenzo stands behind him, putting a bullet in Fiona’s head the moment she points the gun at Lily.
I watch in horror as a smile twists Dante’s lips as he points the gun under Shaun's chin, and he forces him to pull the trigger on himself.
Shaun's head explodes, and his body drops to the floor, lifeless.
Dante stumbles back, finally looking down at where he’s been shot.
“Dante!” I scream again, furiously wrestling against the restraints.
Hands are behind me, and I notice a man wearing a white mask is cutting me free.
The moment the rope falls away, I lurch forward onto my knees, crawling to Dante, my heart pounding, a cruel fate clutching my chest as tears spill over my cheeks.
“No, no, no,” I sob as I lift his heavy weight, my hand frantically patting down his torso. It’s strange that there’s no blood. I try to open his leather jacket, but he catches my wrist, and his eyes slowly open as he gasps for air.
“Dante. Dante,” I squeak, praying that somehow he’s okay.
Please be okay. Don’t be so cruel as to take him from me as well.
“Fuck, that one actually hurt,” he grits out through pain, his eyes rolling into the back of his head for a moment before focusing back on me.
“Quit being such a crybaby,” Lorenzo says from behind me, and picks up the detonator for the bombs. Another masked man cuts Lily free and then begins removing the bomb.
Dante’s hand cups my jaw as a slow smile stretches his lips. “Hey, Cattivella.”
“Y-you’re okay?” My voice wobbles.
“Considering he’s wearing a bulletproof vest, he should be,” Lorenzo says over my shoulder.
“It doesn’t take away from the fact that I could have internal bleeding, you asshole,” Dante says as he rolls on the floor in pain.
More tears spring to my eyes. “You’re so fucking reckless!
” I scream, and his hand freezes on my cheek, suddenly all that smartass attitude having vanished.
“You can’t just do that, not in front of me, not ever.
You’re not allowed to leave me too!” I slam my hand on his chest, and the breath whooshes out of him, and I immediately regret it.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize on a sob. “I’m sorry.
Are you okay?” I put my forehead to his.
“I’m sorry. Just please stop being so reckless. ”
Logically, I understand he did it to protect his brother. But my heart can’t take losing another person, least of all him.
“He wasn’t being reckless for once,” Lorenzo says as one of the masked men lifts the device off of me. “I told him to wear that so he wouldn’t be.”
“I’m not wearing this all the time.” Dante gasps as he tries to roll himself up to a seated position. “I’m sorry I was late. You should’ve never been tied to that chair in the first place.”
My eyebrows furrow deeper. “Late? I couldn’t give a fuck about that right now because I always knew you were going to come. I just… I just…” Why is it so hard for me to say it? Why is it so hard for me to put the final blade down and admit to him… “I just can’t lose you.”
“Be careful, sweetheart, because it sounds like you’re starting to care,” he says with a half-smile.
My pounding heart combusts into a mix of rage, confusion, and fear.
“Of course I care, you fucking idiot. You’re a total pain in my ass, but I fucking love you, and if you put me through this ever again, I’ll throw your shit out onto the street again,” I threaten.
His face lights up as he slowly comes to a full sit, his hand still stroking my cheek, wiping away the tears.
“Lucky I’m so good at picking locks.”
“You asshole.”
“Say it again,” he requests, and I can feel the heat spread to my cheeks. Why is it so embarrassing to say it out loud?
“I love you, Dante. But you’re still on my shit list.” I can’t help but reprimand him because this asshole is definitely going to give me a heart attack.
He chuckles as he says, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you too, Cattivella.”
Dante brings his lips to mine and kisses me sweetly.
It’s strange; the smell and taste of him are familiar, but now that I understand who and what he means to me, I cling to his touch, savoring it as if it might be my last. The kiss then turns into a sensual claiming.
I never want to take him for granted again.
I never want to take anyone I love for granted again.
“I don’t want to break up this sweet moment, but we have somewhere to be. Ara’s gone into labor,” Lorenzo says.
“What?” I yank myself back from Dante, and he growls irritably.
“Come on, Lorenzo, read a room. Give me a few more minutes at least,” Dante complains.
“No can do. We’re still on the job,” he says, his fingers threaded through Lily’s. She wears a tender smile, looking down at Dante and me.
I make sure to look at only her and Dante, because I catch glimpses of Shaun's and Fiona’s bodies, and that’s definitely something I don’t want to remember.
The masked men begin to deal with the bodies, and I now understand that this is what Dante’s day-to-day looks like.
He’s so desensitized to all of this. And even Lily simply avoids looking at the aftermath, as if it’s the way she’s found to be able to accept this part of Lorenzo for what he truly is.
I stand, trying to help Dante lift his own weight.
Once he’s on his feet, he feels like dead weight beside me.
I try to take a step, but Lorenzo swoops in on his other side.
No words are exchanged; he simply shuffles his younger brother under his shoulder and walks ahead, issuing a few orders to the masked men.
I fall behind to walk alongside Lily, and we share a brief glance.
The Moretti brothers might be very different from each other, and they may struggle to use words at the best of times, but maybe there’s hope that something can come from this.
That there's a chance they’ll have a relationship moving forward.
Because I think deep down, that’s what they’ve both wanted this entire time.
Lily and I lean into one another as we wait in one of the drawing rooms in the Armani mansion.
We’re exhausted and have been attended to by Dante.
He wasn’t willing to have his own wounds assessed until he knew that we were both unhurt.
At one point, I think we both fell asleep after all the commotion.
The gunshot resulted in Dante having three fractured ribs, even with the vest. We were advised he made a narrow escape. Not to anyone's surprise, Dante laughed it off, as if he’d planned for it to happen all along.
Now he lies with his head in my lap as I brush my fingers through his hair, guarding over him as he rests. He's so fucking reckless, he’s going to take years off my life. But I can’t help but watch over him right now as if he were a child.
Dante, for all his flaws, still needs to be nurtured.
He never had that growing up. He has a mother he can hardly remember, and a lifetime of feeling like he could only charge through life headfirst. And even when he had the brains and education behind him to be great as a surgeon, he chose this path for himself.
Not because anyone else told him this is what he should be, but because he wanted it for himself.
It’s not the career choice I would’ve encouraged him to take, but if he hadn’t gone down this path, we would’ve never found one another.
I sure as hell know that going forward, it’s going to be a bumpy ride at Dante’s side. But I’m alive. He’s alive. We’re doing this together, and that’s all that matters.
A doctor appears in the doorway, removing her mask and offering a smile. “The Armanis are ready to see you now.”
“Dante,” I whisper, but he’s already awkwardly rolling up to sit. I warily watch him, letting him lean his weight against me as we stumble behind Lily and Lorenzo to one of the guest rooms.
Luca and Ara have their own house where she could have given birth, but I wonder if it was because of all of this—the empire, the legacy, the expectation—that Luca’s heir was born here, in the Armani family home, that had been their safe haven for so many years.
As I watch Lily and Lorenzo in front of us, I can’t help but wonder what will happen between them. Will they have children? How many? My gaze drifts to Dante. Will we have children?
A warm flutter trickles to my core at the thought of a future with Dante. One day, I’ll see him grow old, most likely still acting like a shit-stirring delinquent, and it has my lips curving in a smile. Because as much as I enjoy yelling at him, I know I’ll never be bored. That’s for sure.
When the guest room door opens, the first person I see is Ara. She's lying in bed, pale but seemingly stable, as she holds her bundled baby close to her chest. She’s tucked under Luca’s arm, and there's a lethal edge in his gaze as he looks up at our entrance, until he realizes who it is.
I still have trouble seeing Luca as the head of the Italian mafia. I’ve only ever seen him as a businessman. To think, all these years, he was a man with a deadly secret. And my friend fell for him.
We instinctively know to keep our distance as we take a few steps closer, and my heart fills with joy when I see the baby in Ara’s arms.
“Isn’t she the cutest,” Ara asks.
“She?” Lily and I say in unison.
“She kind of looks like an alien,” Dante says matter-of-factly, then immediately takes a step back from Luca’s scornful gaze. “A cute one,” he quickly adds.
I shake my head, past the point of apologizing for this idiot.
“What’s her name?” Lily asks gently.
Ara and Luca look at one another and smile before Ara says, “Elizabeth Armani. It’s my mother’s name.
” She looks at Elizabeth lovingly, and my heart fills for Ara.
I don’t know all of the finer details, but after discovering her secret and the original reasons behind her fixation on the Armani family—seeking revenge for her mother’s death—I realize that even in death, there are happy moments.
Where there is death, there is always life.
Luca clears his throat. “Lorenzo, the reason why I called you here was because Ara said I should ask in person. We’d like you to be the godfather.”
“And, Lily, we’d like you to be the godmother,” Ara adds.
Lily’s jaw drops, and she looks at me, unsure. I smile, rubbing her arm supportively, because this is precisely how it should be. Lily and Ara became friends, and Lily is just that person to a lot of us—a subtle and calm presence. The type of glue people like Ara and I need.
I do look at Dante, however, a small part of me is saddened that he might, yet again, feel second to Lorenzo. But he’s smiling, and it softens me further.
“We’d be honored,” Lorenzo says proudly, and holds Lily closer.
Luca then looks to Dante. “You need to stop getting shot at, even with a bulletproof vest on, so you can keep her safe.”
Dante's eyebrows shoot up. “I can stay here as your second?” He appears confused as he looks between Lorenzo and Luca.
“Of course,” Luca says. “Lorenzo is still to manage business in Italy. I need you to attend to matters here. Don’t fuck it up.”
“Luca,” Ara chastises, and I try not to laugh at how easily she can put a man as powerful as Luca in his place.
When I glance back up at Dante, I hope he sees the pride in my gaze. Whatever he was hoping to find here in Manhattan, besides pissing off his brother, I hope it’s enough for him to feel accepted and included.
I hope he works hard at being the best version of himself. Well, the best a deranged lunatic can be, that is. And I’ll be sure to keep him in check.
When I glance in Lily’s direction, she’s looking at Lorenzo in the same light.
I wonder if it’s hard for them to be of service to the Armani name, but also having a blurred line between subordinate and friend.
I hope this makes it clear that they’re valued beyond simply shields for the Armanis; that they are, in fact, part of the family.
It might not be the same one they buried, but they have something to truly build on here.
I rest my head into the crook of Dante’s shoulder, relief washing through me that I, too, have found another place to call home.