Dante #2
“Whatever happens with Hale, you cannot lose control,” she said.
His expression hardened. “I don’t lose control.” She looked at him, and he sighed. “Very often.”
“He knows how to get to you now,” she said.
“No, he knows how to get to you,” he countered.
“That gets to you.” Dante stared at her. Damn woman saw too much. “If he threatens me—”
“He dies,” Dante simply said.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Elena said.
“Elena—” he started.
“No.” She stepped closer. “If Hale knows you’ll react when he threatens me, he’ll use it.”
Dante’s jaw clenched. “So what are you asking?”
“Trust me,” she said. He almost laughed, not because it was funny, but because the woman who had locked him out of a bedroom hours ago was now asking him for trust. Her expression sharpened. “I know.”
“You know what?” he asked.
“That’s hypocritical of me to ask,” she said.
“A little,” he agreed.
“I’m working on it,” she said.
“So am I,” he whispered.
She touched his chest, and Dante’s entire body quieted. “Then when we meet Hale, let me do the talking.”
“No,” he breathed.
Her eyebrows rose. “That lasted three seconds.”
“You can talk,” he said.
“Thank you,” she grumbled.
“I’ll still kill him if he moves wrong,” Dante warned.
“Dante,” Elena whispered. She seemed completely exasperated by him, and honestly, he felt the same way about their entire conversation.
“What?” he asked. She laughed despite herself, and he loved that sound. That realization came easily now—too easily. Maybe because he was done fighting every damn thing he felt.
He covered her hand with his. “Elena.”
Her smile faded. “What?”
“There’s something I need you to understand before this goes any further.
” Her eyes searched his. Dante had stood in front of guns with less difficulty than this.
He didn’t do words—not these words, but if tomorrow went wrong—No.
He wouldn’t keep thinking that way. Still, she deserved to know how he was feeling.
“What happened with your father is something I’ll carry for the rest of my life. ”
Her fingers curled against his shirt. “I know.”
“But it doesn’t change this—whatever this is between us,” he breathed.
“What is this?” she asked.
Dante looked at her and shook his head. “I’m not quite sure what to even call it, but—” he didn’t finish saying everything that his heart wanted him to say, but his lips wouldn’t allow.
She blinked up at him. “That wasn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have,” he insisted.
“Try harder,” she said. Of course she would make him do this right now.
He looked toward the ceiling. “Goddamn stubborn woman.”
“I’m waiting,” she said.
His gaze returned to her. “I love you.” There—three words that he never said to anyone—three terrifying fucking words. Elena stopped breathing, and Dante immediately wanted them back. Not because he didn’t mean them, but because she wasn’t saying anything.
“Elena,” he whispered.
“You love me?” she asked.
“Apparently, yes, I do,” he said.
“That sounds oddly romantic, and I thought you didn’t do romance,” she teased.
“I’m new at this.” Her eyes filled, and Dante’s stomach dropped. “Why are you crying?”
She laughed through the tears. “Because you're an idiot.”
“That's not an answer either,” he insisted. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. Her mouth hit his and Dante wrapped his arms around her instantly. The kiss wasn’t frantic like the others. It was slower and deeper. Something settled into place instead of breaking apart.
When Elena pulled back, her forehead rested against his. “I love you too.”
Dante went still, and she smiled at him. “Apparently.” He laughed—actually laughed, and then kissed her again. Someone cleared his throat, but Dante didn’t turn.
“Walk away, Marco,” he growled.
“You might want to hear this.” Dante reluctantly released Elena. Marco stood in the doorway. His face told Dante the news mattered.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I opened the drive,” he announced.
Elena stepped forward. “And?”
Marco held up a printed page. “Your father kept records.”
“Of what?” she asked.
“Everything,” Marco said.
Dante’s instincts sharpened. “Enough to bury Hale?”
Marco smiled. “Enough to bury his entire organization.” There it was—the endgame. Dante took the papers from Marco and looked them over. There were payments, names, account transfers, bribes, and every dirty connection Hale had built over decades.
Elena stared. “My father collected all this?”
“Looks like it,” Marco said.
“Why would he do that?” she asked.
Dante knew. “Insurance.”
Marco nodded. “There’s a video file too.”
Elena went pale. “Of my father?”
“Yes,” Marco said.
Dante placed his hand on her back. “You don’t have to watch it now.”
She looked at him. “Yes, I do.” Marco set the laptop on the table and opened the video. Antonio Romano appeared on-screen. He looked older than he did in the photographs—tired and even scared, but unmistakably Elena’s father. Elena grabbed Dante’s hand, and he held onto her.
Antonio looked directly into the camera.
“If Elena is watching this, then Vincenzo won.” Elena’s breath broke, and Dante squeezed her hand.
Antonio continued. “Hale believes the Crimson Empire belongs to whoever controls the bond. He is wrong.” He paused.
“The empire belongs to the four families. But its future belongs to Elena.”
Dante frowned as Antonio leaned closer to the camera.
“My daughter, if this reaches you, destroy the Accord.” Elena’s grip tightened.
“Do not inherit it.” Dante looked at Luca, and his face went still.
“End it.” Antonio’s expression softened.
“Live your own life.” Elena started crying silently.
“And forgive the man they send after me.” Dante stopped breathing as Antonio looked directly into the camera. “He won’t know the truth.”
Elena turned toward Dante, and he felt as though he couldn’t move. He couldn't look away as the video continued. “Hale will make sure of that.” Antonio glanced off-camera, then back. “And if I’m right, that man will be Dante Vitale.”
Dante’s blood went cold, and Marco whispered, “Holy shit.”
Elena gripped Dante’s hand harder, and Antonio gave a sad smile.
“I’ve watched Dante.” Dante stared at the screen as though her father was speaking directly to him.
“He’s loyal. That can make a man dangerous.
” He paused again. “It can also make him honorable.” Dante’s throat tightened.
“If you’re hearing this, Dante, protect my daughter from Hale. ”
Elena covered her mouth. Antonio’s final words came softly.
“And if she lets you, love her better than this world ever did.” The screen went black, and no one spoke.
Dante felt as though he couldn’t even breathe when Elena turned toward him.
Tears streaked her face, and he reached for her.
She went to him willingly, and Dante pulled her into his chest and held her while something inside him finally broke open.
Antonio Romano knew everything. He knew Hale would use Dante, and he knew that he might die. But somehow, the bastard still trusted him with Elena. Dante pressed his mouth to the top of her head. “I’ll do it.”
She pulled back slightly. “Do what?”
He looked at the black screen and then at her. “What he asked.” Her eyes filled again. “I’ll protect you.” His hand cupped her face. “I’ll love you.” He paused. “And we’ll end the fucking Empire if that’s what you want.”
Elena stared at him for a long moment and then nodded.
“That’s what I want.” Dante looked at Luca, and he gave one slow nod.
The decision was made. The Crimson Accord would end.
Hale would lose the money, the leverage, and the empire he had killed for.
Then, only after everything was gone, Dante would give him the one thing Hale had earned—a grave.