CHAPTER 10
His eyes shine, and an excited chuckle escapes him. Dante stretches his arms out to Finn, and as much as I want to keep my baby away from him, I can’t interrupt this. It’s something I’ve dreamed of ever since I fell in love.
My chest tightens. I never thought it would hurt so much to see my son take his first steps, but I never thought he would take them with him either.
I pictured Dante with that smile and glossy eyes, waiting for me at the altar, holding our son for the first time.
Finn, to him, is nothing more than the offspring of a man he murdered.
My stomach clenches when Dante presses his head to Finn’s, and my son gets some—
Oh, shit.
Dante is covered in blood. How did I not notice that before?
Is that his? He doesn’t look hurt—
Oh, God. Then he killed somebody!
And now he’s with Finn!
I walk at a hurried pace, ignoring whatever pleasant and painful feelings the scene causes me. I wrap my arms around my son. Finn complains aloud, and Dante’s face returns to the sad look he had earlier.
My heart aches; maybe I could…
You shouldn’t feel bad about this... He killed someone!
“Lana...”
His pleading voice sends a shiver down my spine, but I don’t budge, not even though Finn is about to burst into tears, stretching his little arms out to the psycho.
I can’t deny that he somehow gained my son’s affection, but I won’t let him come near him again.
I turn my back to the traitor and walk inside the house.
“You walked, baby,” I whisper to my boy as I make my way to our room.
Finn starts to throw a tantrum, and my heart sinks.
I don’t want this.
He’s ruining everything. Finn didn’t behave like this when Stefan was around.
The doors open behind me. “Amore, wait—”
I rush upstairs and close the door behind me after entering the bedroom. I distract Finn by tickling him until he starts laughing.
“You took your first steps,” I encourage him. “You’re so grown up, sweetie.”
He laughs and stretches his little arms up. I bring him close to my chest. The sadness inside me crashes down like an avalanche.
I’m clueless. I know I can’t let Dante near him, but I can’t leave this place either.
Why am I so useless? Why didn’t I give him up?
Instead, I made the stupid choice to keep him.
I could’ve said he died during birth while he was being taken by a family that could actually take care of him, without danger.
Children in my world are not raised to be safe.
If he had been a girl, he would have been taken away for adoption, and being a boy, he would grow up to be someone without feelings.
I saw it in my brothers, and I don’t want my son to face the same fate.
He deserves better… And I can’t give him that.
When he grows up, my father will trust him to carry on his legacy, even though I have no clue what his job is. I always stayed out of their business, and now I regret it.
Will I always be trapped in this web of lunatics?
Hours later, Greta comes in with our tray of food.
“Can I ask you a few questions?” I whisper as she is about to leave.
She nods, closes the door, and takes a seat in one of the armchairs near the table.
While I feed Finn, I say, “It’s about Dante... Why did he bring me here? What does he want from me? Do you know?”
“Oh, signorina.11 Dante has been in love with you for years.”
What? Years? We were together for three months before the wedding, and a person in love would not have done what he did that day.
I would never have done that…
“The last time I touched a woman, I was twenty.” He thrusts his fingers inside me. “I haven’t even looked at another woman since I met you a few years ago.”
I blush at the memory, but then I also remember my father used to parade me around whenever there was a party. He might have met me there.
“So why does he have me here? Why did he kill my husband?”
“I don’t know about his business,” she answers a little hesitantly. “But I can assure you... what he did was for your own sake. Dante doesn’t usually do such things irresponsibly. My husband would turn in his grave if he did!”
Oh. I assumed her husband arrived in the evenings or was away on a trip. That means that while Dante is away, she is all by herself. I remember Dante told me there was a matter between him and his father, so he must have died not that long ago.
I don’t want to dig into the wound, so I continue with the subject, “And you’re okay with that?”
I’m surprised that anyone would approve of such behaviour from their son. He killed a man to kidnap his family. How can anyone be okay with that?
She offers a faint smile. “I have known Dante since he was a bambino. I raised him... He was always very... passionate, but he was never mean.”
Have known?
“He’s not your son?”
“He is nel mio cuore.”12 She puts a hand to her chest and shakes her head. “But he’s not my biological son. He’s my best friend’s, Aurora. She died young... When Dante was five years old. My husband and I stayed close to him and his grandmother, but we took care of him when he turned eight.”
“What happened to his grandmother?”
She sighs. “She died... Dante was with her.”
And he’s still alive?
A shiver runs through my body. What if he—No, he couldn’t have. I don’t want to think about that possibility.
What if he was a psycho even as a kid?
“Francesco and I loved him as much as a son.” She smiles wistfully. “And he made us tired as well as twenty.” Fixing her eyes on Finn, she adds, “He was nothing like this cucciolo.”
Finn laughs as Greta squeezes his cheek. I restrain the impulse to take him away from her.
“I insist,” she continues, “Dante’s tasks are not driven by evil, but by concern... My husband is the one who created the organisation he works for.”
Organisation?
“I saw with my own eyes how he killed my husband,” I remind her in a low voice. “Corpses surrounded him, and—”
“As I said, Lana, if he did that, then it was for your own sake. Dante does not murder innocents.”
My stomach churns. I hid the bruises; how could he know what Stefan was doing? And why did he care? It’s the usual in relationships, or so everyone told me. Dante was just playing nice.
“You must always be willing and able to take the blows with your head held high,” my father used to say, “not like that incompetent mother of yours.”
Another shiver runs through my body.
Dante wouldn’t have done that? Did he kill him because he wasn’t innocent, or did he lie to Greta so he wouldn’t disappoint her?
Manipulative bastard.
“Will I ever be able to leave?”
“If you ask him, I’m sure he’ll accept.” Her hand comes up to mine and squeezes it. She tries to comfort me with her eyes. “He does not kidnap... I promise. You have to trust him more.”
“I don’t think I can do that after what I saw… but still, thank you for your time.”
She nods and stands up. “If it helps, you can ask Dante to take you to the shelter. He’s just keeping you here for more protection.”
“Shelter?”
“Yes. If you’re worried about Finn, I can stay with him. I assure you this is the safest place.
A shelter? Like an animal shelter? “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”
On her way out, she closes the door with a forced smile.
I go over to lock it again. Then I join Finn at the table, a bit disappointed. I thought talking to Greta would give me some answers, but all I got was more questions.
To find out what kind of person he is, you’ll have to tempt him.
Get so annoying that he will have no choice but to give in to his urges.
He will want to beat the brat out of you, or maybe he will abuse you to prove what kind of man he is.
If he paid your father to be with you for three months, then they’re the same kind of rubbish.
I close my eyes.
I must prove to you what kind of person he is.
He loved me.
He betrayed you! Now at least you know what he is capable of.
That voice in my head is right, though I don’t want to accept it. Greta might be blinded by her loyalty, their bond and the lies he has told her. Not that I can blame her, either—Dante is her son. If Finn told me something like that, I’d want to believe him, too.
When we finish our meal, I take Finn in my arms and carry him to the bathroom.
We shower together. I haven’t let him out of my sight for more than ten seconds since Dante took him while he was sleeping.
That day I began placing a chair in front of the door, and I have taken precautions so Finn won’t have another accident.
When I wash myself, I leave Finn sitting, playing with rubber duckies. He tries to stand up over and over again, slipping and falling on his bottom.
Once we’re done, I dry us both off, get us dressed, and we go to bed. Just like every night, he clings to my chest, and I hum the only song I know.
I’ll think about the prospect of seducing Dante… because once I do, there’s no turning back.
Notes:
10.You walked, little one!
11. Miss.
12. In my heart.