Chapter 17
DANTE
I step fully into the foyer before she can answer for me.
Marco’s bloodshot eyes immediately snap toward my form. He sways slightly where he stands, one hand braced against the door to keep himself upright. The smell of alcohol and whatever pills he chased it with practically suffocates the entire damn room.
I already had a headache tonight from all the blood loss.
Now I have Marco too.
“Nice to see rehab’s going well,” I respond flatly.
Leigh visibly winces. “Dante-”
“What?” Marco suddenly barks out a laugh. “You got jokes now, Rivera?”
“I’ve always had jokes. You’re just usually too fucked up to understand them.”
His grin twitches.
Marco’s one of those people where you never really know if he’s about to laugh or stab somebody.
His eyes drift over me slowly before landing on my bandaged wound.
The amusement on his face fades inch by inch.
“What happened?”
Leigh immediately cuts in. “Nothing.”
Marco ignores her completely. “Rivera.”
I let out a slow breath, already irritated that I even have to explain myself to him.
“Warehouse job went sideways,” I say flatly. “Some Russian fuckers decided to hit River Street during the transfer.”
Marco’s expression shifts slightly at that.
“Which crew?” he asks with genuine interest.
“Not sure yet,” I answer. “But they knew exactly when the product was going to be moved.”
His eyes narrow instantly.
Leigh stays quiet beside him, but I can feel her attention fully locked onto me now.
Marco glances down toward the bandage wrapped around my side again. “And?”
“And one of them got too close with a knife,” I mutter. “I handled it.”
“That’s your definition of handled?” he asks while motioning toward the blood staining through the material.
I look down briefly at it. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”
“Unfortunately,” he answers dryly.
I roll my eyes.
Marco pushes himself off the door slightly, swaying for a second before catching his balance again. “So what? You came here because you didn’t wanna bleed out alone?”
Before I can answer, Leigh cuts in immediately.
“He needed someone to patch him up without interrogating him about how it happened.”
Marco slowly looks toward her.
Then toward me.
Then back at her again.
That crooked grin starts creeping onto his face little by little. “Oh, I see what’s happening here.”
“Marco,” Leigh warns instantly.
“No, no.” He points lazily between us. “This is actually so much worse than I thought.”
“There is nothing going on.”
“Mhm.” He nods dramatically. “And I’m sober. Are we both just tossing out lies now?”
I push off the wall slightly, already losing patience. “You always this fucking nosey?”
“You always this defensive?”
I push off the wall entirely, taking a step towards him. “I’ll show you fucking defensive.”
Leigh groans under her breath. “Can both of you stop?”
“No,” me and Marco answer at the exact same time.
That makes him laugh again.
“You know what the funniest part is?” he asks while looking directly at me now. “Gabriel will kill you when he finds out. I don’t have to touch a single hair on your head.”
Leigh glares at him. “You are unbelievable.”
“I’m being realistic.” Marco shrugs lazily. “Gabriel barely lets people breathe near her without turning it into some type of an interrogation. Meanwhile, you’re bleeding in her bathroom in the middle of the night looking like some fucked up romance movie.”
Leigh makes a disgusted noise. “You’re insane.”
“No, I’m high. There’s a difference.” He corrects her.
I let out a low scoff. I need to shift this conversation before Marco’s drugged-out ass starts connecting dots that should never exist in the first place.
“Trust me, Marco,” I respond flatly. “Your sister is not of interest to me in that way.”
Leigh’s head whips toward me instantly. “Excuse me?”
Marco absolutely loses his shit laughing.
I walk toward the kitchen counter across the room, grabbing the whiskey bottle sitting half-open on the counter. I twist the cap off and take a long swallow straight from it.
The burn barely does anything anymore.
Behind me, Marco is still laughing like a fucking lunatic.
Leigh’s jaw tightens. “Marco, shut up.”
“No, seriously.” He points between us again. “That one had a little sting to it.”
I already regret opening my mouth.
Marco, unfortunately, looks entertained as hell now.
“You know,” he says while leaning against the door again, “most guys would at least pretend to hesitate before saying something like that.”
“I’m not most guys.” I respond quickly.
Leigh folds her arms tightly across her chest. “Can we stop talking about me like I’m not standing right here?”
Marco grins. “You are standing right here. That’s why this is fun.”
I rub a hand over my face, already exhausted. “Jesus Christ.”
Marco points toward me dramatically. “See? That right there.” He looks at Leigh. “He’s stressed now.”
My grip tightens around the decanter. “I’m bleeding through a bandage and dealing with a drug addict at two in the morning. Yeah, I’m fucking stressed.”
“Former drug addict,” Marco corrects proudly.
“I know damn well that you snorted something before walking through the front door.”
“That’s fair.” He says.
Leigh lets out a frustrated groan before turning away from both of us entirely. “I despise everyone in this penthouse.”
Marco immediately points toward her. “See? She sounds exactly like Gabriel when she’s pissed.”
“I do not-”
“You do,” we both say at the exact same time.
Leigh shoots me a glare over her shoulder.
Marco notices and starts laughing again. “Damn, Rivera. You really know how to make women hate you.”
I lean back against the counter, staring at him blankly. “And yet somehow I still get more than you.”
Marco places a hand dramatically over his chest. “That hurt.”
“It was supposed to.” I respond.
Leigh shakes her head slowly like she’s questioning every life decision that led her to this exact moment.
“I’m going to bed. This is fucking exhausting.”
She turns and starts toward the hallway before stopping abruptly mid-step.
She glances back toward Marco. “You can sleep on the couch. Just don’t touch anything.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “Father will literally kill you if anything comes up missing.”
Marco places a hand over his chest dramatically. “I bet that would just make your fucking day, sis.”
He grins crookedly while she disappears down the hallway toward her room.
I don’t see her again for the rest of the night.
Marco eventually crashes face-first onto the couch after raiding Gabriel’s liquor cabinet like a fucking raccoon.
I head down the opposite hallway toward one of the spare rooms instead. Usually Viktor stays in this one whenever he’s at the penthouse, but tonight he’s out picking Gabriel up from the airport.
Lucky fucking timing.