Chapter 35
EVERLEIGH
I didn’t end up seeing Dante again that night like I thought I was going to.
I went to my room and did my best to wait on him, and somewhere along the way, I fell asleep alone.
Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Gabriel’s voice all over again.
“Take care of him.”
Like Marco’s life meant absolutely nothing to him.
As if he wasn’t even his son.
By morning, I’m curled into my soft blanket on my king-sized bed, while cold coffee sits untouched beside me on the end table.
Around noon, a quiet knock sounds at my bedroom door.
“Come in.”
Viktor slowly opens it and walks inside looking just as exhausted as I feel.
“You look horrible,” I say quietly while sitting up slightly in bed.
Viktor tosses his jacket across one of the chairs nearby. “You don’t exactly look alive yourself.”
“Fair.” I mutter.
Silence settles between us for a second before I finally force myself to ask the question that’s been eating at me since last night.
“How bad is it?”
Viktor drags a hand down his face before sitting across from the bed in my vanity chair. “Bad enough that he thought Gabriel sent me there to kill him.”
The words hit me so hard my stomach twists painfully.
“What?”
“That was his first fucking thought,” he says quietly before dragging a hand down his face. “That Gabriel, his own flesh and blood, sent his other son there to kill him over something he didn’t even do just because the whole situation became inconvenient.”
I stare at him in disbelief while anger immediately starts burning hotter inside my chest.
I understand why Marco thought it.
Because it was the truth.
The only difference is that Marco didn’t actually know that Gabriel had given the order yet.
Only Dante and I did.
And I’d been carrying that information alone the entire night.
Viktor leans back against the chair afterward, exhaustion radiating off of him.
“He completely fucking broke down,” he mutters quieter this time. “Crying and panicking. He kept saying he didn’t do it.”
“I know he didn’t.” I reply.
“I know.” He nods once. “But he thinks nobody else believes him.”
My heart physically aches at the thought of him feeling that way.
Viktor looks away toward the windows briefly before speaking again.
“He kept crying for Mom.”
My eyes immediately close.
For a second, I can physically picture it.
Marco high out of his mind somewhere and crying because one of the only people who ever fully understood and loved him unconditionally is dead.
“He said she was the only person who didn’t look at him like he was broken.”
A bitter laugh leaves me quietly before I can stop it. “Our disgrace of a father really destroyed us after she died, didn’t he?”
I slowly stand from the bed dressed in head-to-toe pajamas and walk toward the windows, wrapping my arms tightly around myself while staring out across the city below.
“We need to get him out of here.”
“I know.” He agrees.
“He can’t stay in New York.” I turn back toward Viktor immediately. “Especially not right now.”
“We can house him somewhere else until this all blows over.” He says.
I nod my head in agreement.
Finally, Viktor nods once. “Then we’ll figure something out tomorrow.”
I wrap my arms tighter around myself while staring out across Manhattan. “We have to.”
How sad is it that our own father is more of a danger to our brother than the Russians?
Eventually Viktor stands from the chair and grabs his jacket. “Try getting some more sleep tonight. You may need it.”
A humorless laugh leaves me quietly. “That advice coming from you is almost insulting.”
That finally earns the faintest twitch of amusement from him before he heads toward the bedroom door.
“Call me if anything happens.”
“I will.” I murmur.
My bedroom door closes quietly only seconds later.
The front door in the foyer opens just as the sun disappears beneath the skyline.
I immediately glance up from where I’m sitting curled into the couch, one of my father’s old records humming softly through the penthouse speakers while rain continues pouring outside.
Dante steps inside dressed completely in black as usual.
His dark jacket is damp from the storm and exhaustion sits heavily across his face, but the second his eyes land on me, something in his expression softens slightly.
“You’re still here?” he mutters while shutting the door behind him.
I snort quietly. “You sound surprised.”
“Little bit.” A light smirk plays at his lips.
I study him carefully while he undoes a few of the top buttons on his black button-up.
“What did my father say yesterday?”
The question hangs between us instantly.
Dante goes still for half a second before walking further into the penthouse.
“We figured out a way to get Marco out of this.”
My eyes narrow slightly while I watch him.
Because I know exactly what I heard outside that office last night, and unless Dante somehow managed to convince my father not to kill Marco afterward, then he’s keeping something from me.
“How?”
His jaw tightens slightly. “I can’t confirm details yet.”
I stare at him.
In my heart, I keep hoping he’ll tell me what was really said after I walked away from that office door.
But my brain keeps screaming the same thing over and over again.
He’s lying to you.
Dante stops directly in front of me. He places his hand out directly in front of him, waiting for me to take it.
I notice faint bruising across one of his knuckles as I take his hand, standing from the couch fully.
Dante notices and smirks. “You should see the other guy.”
A quiet laugh leaves me before I can stop it.
“There she is,” he murmurs softly.
My brows pull together slightly. “What?”
“That laugh.” His fingers tighten faintly against my waist. “Feels like I haven’t heard it in days.”
Dante’s hand releases mine and then settles on my waist. His hand gradually slides upward along my side before settling against my jaw gently.
“You’ve been staring at me all weird since I walked in,” He mutters quietly.
A faint smirk plays on my lips. “Can you blame me?”
Warmth tumbles through me.
In some ways, I hate that he can still do this to me.
His eyes slowly drift across my face afterward before lowering toward my mouth.
My breath catches slightly when his thumb brushes across my lower lip. “Dante.”
He exhales softly through his nose before resting his forehead briefly against mine.
Then his lips brush mine, slowly at first.
But then the kiss deepens, and I feel myself melting into him.
Before I can think better of it, I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Dante’s hands slide down my back, gripping my waist as he lifts me effortlessly. I gasp against his mouth, my legs instinctively wrapping around his torso.
“Bedroom,” I whisper against his lips.
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
He carries me down the hallway, our mouths never fully separating, each step punctuated by hungry kisses.
When we reach my bedroom, he sets me down on my feet gently in front of the bed, the city lights casting a soft glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Instead of falling back onto the mattress like he expects, I step away from him, my eyes dark with intent.
I reach for the hem of my pajama top and pull it over my head in one fluid motion. His breath catches as I stand before him illuminated by the New York skyline, my skin glowing in the dim light.
“Your turn,” I say, my voice laced with desire. “Take off your clothes and sit on the edge of the bed.”
Something flashes in his eyes. Surprise followed by nothing but hunger.
He complies without question, stripping off his jacket, then his shirt, revealing the toned muscles and old scars I remember so well. His hands move to his belt buckle next, eyes never leaving mine.
When he’s finally naked, he sits on the edge of my bed, watching as I remove my remaining clothing with deliberate slowness.
The way he looks at me makes me feel powerful and desired, a stark contrast to the vulnerability I usually feel in his presence.
I kneel between his spread legs, my hands sliding up his thighs.
I take his cock into my hand first, stroking him slowly while enjoying the way his breathing changes and the way his muscles tense beneath my touch.
“Leigh,” he warns, his voice strained.
I smile up at him before lowering my head, my tongue tracing the length of him before taking him into my mouth.
Dante’s hand immediately finds my hair, not pushing, just holding as I work him with my mouth.
The taste of him is intoxicating, and I take him deeper while relishing the quiet sounds escaping his throat.
His fingers tighten in my hair, his hips rising slightly off the bed. I increase my pace, my hand working in tandem with my mouth until I feel him getting closer.
“Stop,” he gasps. “I want to be inside you.”
I release him with one final kiss to his head before rising back to my knees.
I climb onto his lap, positioning myself above him.
With our eyes locked, I sink down slowly, taking him inside me inch by inch until I’m fully seated.
We both groan at the sensation, and for a moment, we just stay like that connected and breathing each other’s air. Then I begin to move, setting a slow pace that has Dante gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks.
The skyline twinkles to the side of us as I ride him, my body moving in perfect rhythm with his. Stars dot the night sky beyond the glass while the city lights create a beautiful backdrop to our reunion.
“Look at you,” Dante murmurs, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts. “So fucking beautiful.”
I increase my pace, chasing my pleasure as I bounce in his lap.
His hands move to my waist, helping me move faster and deeper. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by ragged breathing and soft moans.
“I’m close,” I gasp while feeling the tension building inside me.
Dante sits up straighter, one arm wrapping around my back to hold me close as he thrusts upward, meeting my movements. His other hand slides between us, his thumb finding my clit and circling it with just the right amount of pressure.
The combination of sensations pushes me over the edge.
I cry out as pleasure crashes through me in waves, my body clenching tightly around him.
The feeling of me tightening around him becomes too much for him to bear. With a groan, he spills himself inside me, his release triggering another smaller climax afterward.
We stay like that for several moments, foreheads pressed together while breathing heavily.
When Dante finally pulls back to look at me, the vulnerability in his eyes catches me off guard.
“I know you don’t believe me, Leigh,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. “But I fucking love you. I’ve loved you everyday since..”
I swallow hard, not trusting myself to speak. Instead, I lean forward and kiss him softly, pouring everything I can’t say into the gentle press of my lips against his.
When I pull away, I rest my head against his shoulder while watching the city lights through the window. “Stay tonight,” I murmur.
Dante’s arms tighten around me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
As we lay there tangled together, I can’t help but wonder what tomorrow will bring.
Marco’s life still hangs in the balance while my father’s threats continue echoing through my head.
I know this moment of peace won’t last forever.
But for now, with Dante’s heartbeat steady beneath my ear and the stars watching over us through the glass, I allow myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, we will get through this somehow.