Dante #3
He pressed her back against the wall, and she hissed out her breath. “You good, honey?” he asked.
“More than good,” she whispered. “Fuck me, Dante.” God, he loved a woman with a dirty mouth, and the way that she was talking to him and giving him orders turned him inside out with need.
He pumped in and out of her body, taking what she was offering him.
When she cried out his name, Dante quickly followed her over, losing himself deep inside of her.
They stood there for what felt like an eternity—still joined, and both of them trying to catch their breath.
Dante wasn’t sure if what they had just done was a good or bad idea anymore, but he didn’t care.
She was his now, and there was no fucking way that he’d ever let her forget that fact.
He carried her over to the bed and laid her down.
Dante got in next to her and pulled Elena into his body, loving the way that she seemed to fit there.
She lay curled against his chest beneath the sheets as he stared at the ceiling.
This was all so new to him. He didn't bring women here, and didn't sleep beside them, or hold them afterward.
Yet his arm was around Elena, and every time he considered moving it, he found a reason not to.
“You're thinking too loud,” she murmured. Dante looked down at her lying on his chest. Her eyes were closed, and her hair was spread over his torso, and she looked so fucking beautiful.
“That doesn't make sense,” he said.
“It does with you,” she mumbled.
He ran his thumb absently over her shoulder. “You okay?”
Her eyes opened. “Yes.”
“How’s your arm?” he asked. She moved it and winced in pain.
“Fine,” she lied.
“You sure?” he asked.
She smiled. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”
“You lie about being fine a lot,” he said.
“That’s fair.” Elena's smile faded. “What happens now?” Dante knew she wasn't asking about the investigation. He could lie and tell her it was just sex or even a bad decision made after a terrible day. That would be easier—safer even, but it would also be complete bullshit.
“I don't know,” he admitted. She nodded, and he felt her pull away emotionally before she moved physically from his side. Dante tightened his arm around her. “But you're not going anywhere.”
Her gaze lifted to his. “Because you're protecting me?” she asked.
“Yes.” Something flickered in her expression, and Dante sighed. “And because I don't want you to go anywhere.” That seemed to surprise her. Hell, it surprised him.
“That sounds dangerously close to admitting you like me,” she teased.
“Don't push it.” She smiled that fucking smile that seemed to always turn him inside out.
He touched her face. “Elena.”
“What?” she asked.
“If this becomes something—” he whispered.
“If?” she asked, glaring at him.
“If,” he repeated, “it doesn't change the job.”
“Meaning?” she asked.
“If I tell you to run, you run,” he said.
“If someone's shooting at us, sure. Then we both run,” she insisted. “But if you're just being bossy—”
“I am always bossy,” he reminded.
“Then I'm ignoring you,” she said.
Dante shook his head. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
“Well, you’re the one who kissed me,” she said.
“You kissed me first,” he challenged.
“Technically, yes, I did,” she said.
“So this is your fault,” he said. She smacked his chest, and Dante caught her hand. For one stupid, impossible moment, he felt happy—actually fucking happy.
His phone rang, and Dante closed his eyes. Elena groaned. “Your phone has terrible timing.”
“You have no idea.” He reached for it and saw Luca’s name on the screen. Dante answered with his usual greeting. “What?”
“You sound pleasant,” Luca drawled.
“What do you want, Luca?” he asked.
“Marco called me.” Dante sat up slightly, and Elena did too.
“What did he find?” Dante asked.
“The red ledger wasn't the only thing missing,” Luca said.
Dante's mood changed instantly. “What else was missing?”
“Marco found a false bottom in one of the boxes,” Luca said.
Elena leaned closer, trying to hear what Luca was saying, and Dante put the call on speaker. “What was inside?” she asked.
Luca paused. “Photographs.”
Elena frowned. “Of what?”
“Not what, but who,” Luca said.
Dante felt her tense beside him. “Who, Luca?” she asked.
“Your father, standing with Hale,” Luca said, pausing mid-sentence. “And someone else.”
Elena gripped the sheet. “Who?”
“We don't know yet,” Luca said.
Dante's instincts started screaming at him. “Why don’t you know who it is?” he asked.
“Because the man's face was cut out of every photograph. There was writing on the back of one,” Luca said.
“What did it say?” Dante asked.
“It said, ‘Four families, one empire. Sealed in blood,’” Luca said.
Dante went still, and Elena looked at him. “What does that mean?” she asked. He didn't answer because he didn't know, but Luca wasn't finished.
“There's more.”
Dante's grip tightened on the phone. “Great,” he grumbled. “What else?”
“The date on the oldest photograph is twenty-seven years ago,” Luca said. Elena went pale. That was the year she was born.
Dante got out of bed. “Send me everything,” he ordered.
“I already did,” Luca said.
“Call me when you have something,” Dante said, ending the call.
Elena stared at him as Dante opened the photographs on his phone.
The first loaded, and he saw four men with one of their faces cut out.
The second photo loaded, and he saw the same four men, but younger.
The third loaded, and Dante stopped dead in his tracks.
“What’s wrong?” Elena asked. He zoomed in. On the table behind the men sat a red ledger, and beside it was a photograph of a newborn.
Elena moved closer to look at his phone, and her breath caught.
“Oh, my God.” Dante enlarged the photo. A name had been written beneath the baby.
Elena Romano. The warmth that had filled the room disappeared.
Dante stared at the photograph. This hadn't started with the accounts.
It hadn't started with her father's death.
It hadn't even started with the Camorras.
Someone had been building something around Elena since the day she was born.
Dante looked at the woman sitting in his bed with his sheets wrapped around her.
His marks were still fresh on her skin. Something dark settled inside him.
Whoever had planned Elena's future had made one serious fucking mistake because they hadn't planned on him being a part of her life.
And Dante Vitale had no intention of letting anyone else decide what happened to her.