Dante
He stood in the kitchen watching her disappear upstairs to change, his hands braced against the island while he tried to remember every reason touching her again was a bad idea.
She was under his protection. She was tied to an investigation that threatened the Camorra family.
Someone was trying to kill her. They had a storage unit to get to before whoever had broken into it came back.
And Luca had specifically warned him about getting attached.
They were all excellent reasons, but none of them stopped him from wanting to follow her upstairs.
“Good morning to you too,” Marco drawled.
“I pulled the facility cameras,” Marco said.
“Someone wiped yesterday’s footage,” Marco said. Of course they did.
“Can you pull up anything from surrounding business cameras?”
“Working on it,” Marco said.
“Did you question the manager?” Dante asked.
“Claims he never saw anyone,” Marco grumbled.
“You say that like you don’t believe him,” Dante said.
“His story changed twice already, so I don’t have much faith in the guy,” Marco said.
Dante straightened. “Keep him there. I want to ask him a few questions.”
“Already handled,” Marco said.
“And Marco?” Dante almost whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell anyone where Elena and I are going,” he ordered.
Marco was quiet on the other end of the call. “Anyone?”
“Anyone.” That included Camorra soldiers, and Marco would understand the order immediately.
“You think the leak is ours?” Marco asked. Dante looked toward the stairs. Elena’s father had written it plainly.
The Camorra family has a traitor.
“I think until we know otherwise, nobody can be trusted.”
“Except me?” Marco asked.
“You’re mildly tolerable,” Dante teased.
Marco laughed. “Aww, see now, you do like me.” Dante ended the call, and footsteps sounded overhead.
A minute later, Elena appeared. She’d changed into clothes Luca had sent over with one of his men earlier—jeans, a black sweater, and boots.
The outfit was nothing remarkable, but she still managed to make Dante forget what the hell he’d been thinking.
Her gaze met his and then dropped to his mouth.
Fuck. She was thinking about the kiss too.
Dante grabbed his jacket before he changed his mind about leaving. “Ready?”
“Are we pretending the kiss didn't happen?” she asked. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face her, because they were apparently not pretending that it didn’t happen.
“Elena,” he breathed.
“I’m just asking so I know how to play this,” she said.
“We need to leave,” he insisted.
“That isn't an answer to my question, Dante,” she said.
“It’s the only one you’re getting right now.
” Her expression cooled, and Dante immediately hated it, but distance was smart.
Distance would keep her alive, and keep him useful.
He opened the door. “After you.” She walked past him without another word, and somehow, her silence was worse than her arguing with him.
The storage facility sat behind a chain-link fence on the industrial edge of the city.
Dante hated it on sight. There were too many buildings, too many blind spots, and too many places for someone to sit with a rifle and wait.
He parked across the street rather than entering immediately.
Elena reached for the door, and Dante caught her wrist.
“Wait,” he ordered.
She looked at his hand and then him. “I thought we were in a hurry.”
“We are,” he said.
“Then why are you telling me to wait?” she asked.
“Because somebody accessed your unit yesterday, and the camera footage was erased.”
That shut her up. “Someone erased it?”
“Yes, according to Marco, someone erased the footage.”
“Why didn't you tell me?” she asked.
“I'm telling you now,” he said.
“That's not the same thing,” she insisted.
“No, it’s not,” he agreed.
Her eyes narrowed. “Anything else you're keeping from me?” He wanted to tell her that he was keeping plenty of things from her, for her own safety, but he didn’t.
He wanted to tell her how badly he wanted to kiss her again; how close he’d come to saying fuck the storage unit and carrying her upstairs.
He wanted to say how terrified he’d been when her blood covered his hand.
And how the idea of someone having tomorrow marked as the day she died made him want to dismantle half the city.
Instead, he said, “The manager changed his story twice.”
Elena stared at the facility. “So this could be a trap.”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“And we're going inside anyway,” she guessed.
“Yes.”
She looked at him. “Maybe I'm not the reckless one. Maybe you’re the reckless one.”
“Never said I wasn't,” he said. A hint of a smile appeared on her face, and he released her wrist. “Stay close.”
“I know,” she said.
“No wandering away,” he ordered.
“Dante,” she breathed.
“No arguing,” he insisted.
“Now you're just being unrealistic,” she chided.
He almost smiled. “Come on.” They crossed the street. Dante kept Elena slightly behind his right shoulder, with one hand near his gun. The manager was waiting inside the office. The guy was in his mid-fifties, sweating despite the cold, and Dante immediately disliked him.
“You Vitale?” the man asked. Dante didn't answer him. Instead, he looked around the office. There was one exit behind them, and a door leading to storage corridors. There were security monitors and three cameras.
“You let someone into unit 314 yesterday,” Dante said. It wasn’t a question.
The manager swallowed. “I already told the other guy—”
“Tell me,” Dante said. The man looked at Elena, and Dante saw the recognition flash in his eyes. He stepped between them. “Eyes on me.” The manager did as ordered, fast—which was a good choice.
“They had the code to get into the unit,” the man said.
“They?” Dante asked.
“No, sorry, it was just one guy,” the man corrected.
“You just said they,” Dante said. The man paled, and Dante stepped closer. “Try again,” he growled.
“I don't know what you want me to say,” the man insisted.
“Yes, you do,” Dante spat. “I want the truth.”
“I swear—” the man started. Dante grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him halfway across the counter. Elena inhaled sharply behind him, but Dante didn't look back.
“Someone is trying to kill the woman standing behind me,” he shouted. The manager’s eyes widened. “So we're going to skip the part where you lie to me and get to the part where you decide how much you enjoy having teeth.”
“Dante.” Elena’s voice was a quiet warning. He loosened his grip, but only slightly.
The manager swallowed. “There were two men.”
“What were their names?” Dante asked.
“I don't know,” the man insisted.
“What did they look like?” he asked.
“They were wearing suits. One guy was older with gray hair.”
“And the other?” Dante asked.
“He was maybe thirty, tall, with dark hair.”
“Did they show identification?” Dante questioned.
“No.” The man looked down at the floor, and Dante knew that he wasn’t telling him everything.
“How'd they get in?” he asked.
“I already told you—they had her code.”
Elena stepped closer. “Did they take anything?”
The manager looked at her. “I don't know.”
Dante tightened his fist. “Think harder.”
“They carried out a box,” the man admitted.
Elena went pale. “What kind of box?”
He shrugged. “It was small, like the size of a file box.”
“The ledger,” she whispered.
Dante released the man. “Show us the unit, now.” The man walked them down to the storage unit and pointed to the one marked 314. The lock wasn't damaged, and that bothered Dante more than anything. Elena entered the code and the door unlocked.
Dante drew his weapon. “Get behind me.” He entered first. There were boxes everywhere, along with a few pieces of furniture and even a large mahogany desk that sat in the corner. Several pieces were covered with sheets. Dante checked every corner before lowering his gun.
“Clear,” he breathed. Elena came inside, and her face changed immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“Someone moved things around,” she said.
“You sure?” Dante asked.
“Yes.” She pointed at the desk. “That desk was against the wall.”
Dante looked around. “Don't touch anything yet.” Elena ignored him, naturally. She walked toward a stack of boxes in the back. “Elena.”
“The ledger was here.” She pulled one box down and opened it. There were books inside, along with old photographs. Elena stared inside. “No.”
Dante moved beside her. “It’s not there?”
She nodded. “I put it right here.”
“The ledger?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“They knew exactly what they wanted,” Dante said.
Elena wrapped her arms around herself. “Then we're too late.”
“Maybe,” he whispered.
She looked at him. “Maybe?”
“They took the ledger yesterday, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, so?” she asked.
“So you're still alive today,” he pointed out. Her brow furrowed. “If the ledger was the only thing they needed, why put tomorrow's date on your photograph?”
Understanding dawned on her beautiful face. “They still need something from me.”
“Exactly,” he agreed. “We’ll just need to figure out what they want from you before tomorrow.” A sound came from outside. It sounded like metal scraping on metal. Dante went still.
“What was that?” Elena asked. He lifted a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet. There was another sound outside, this time, closer.
Dante grabbed Elena and pulled her behind the desk. “Get down.” He raised his gun and listened to the footsteps walking down the concrete hallway. The storage door shifted, and Dante positioned himself between Elena and the entrance. A shadow crossed beneath it.
“Vitale?” Dante recognized the voice, but he didn't lower the gun.
“Marco?” Dante whispered.
“Unless you've got another incredibly handsome hacker who works for you,” Marco said.
Dante closed his eyes. “I'm going to fucking kill him.” Elena laughed quietly behind him.
Marco appeared at the entrance and immediately raised his hands when he saw the weapon. “Easy,” he breathed.
“I told you not to come here,” Dante reminded.
“And I ignored you,” Marco said.