Chapter Seven
Dante
She’s gone!
Her phone and keys are gone, and she’s nowhere in the apartment when I finally emerge from my bedroom and I curse myself for being a fool. I should have expected that she’d sneak out of the fucking apartment and not tell me she was leaving, so I could call her bodyguard to come pick her up.
She doesn’t want me around—fine. Okay, so it’s not fine, but I’ll deal with it. Still, that’s no reason for her to go running off like that. Not when there’s a fucking maniac out there stalking her!
I yank on my shoelaces with more force than needed, wanting to punch through the wall or kick at the punching bag in my gym until it breaks from the ceiling, but there are more important things to get to and with greater urgency.
Like getting to my little bird before her stalker does. Punching the bag will just have to wait until Gia Marino is safe.
I push to my feet just as the door flies open, and I only have a moment to grab my gun before Gia runs inside, panting, her eyes wide with panic.
All the irritation I felt with her leaving flies away, and concern settles in as she rushes toward me.
She flings her arms around my waist and buries her face in my chest as sobs rack her entire body.
I quickly pull my gun from the holster at my back and point it at the entrance.
Now all I need to know is which fucker I need to kill for putting that look on Gia’s face, but no one follows her through the door.
“He found me again,” she sobs, her voice muffled in my shirt. I grasp her shoulders and pull her back, gritting my teeth when I find her beautiful eyes wet. “I thought he wouldn’t dare try to get to me when I moved here.”
“Gia, what happened?”
She pulls her arms from around my waist, and for the first time, I notice the box in her hand. “The concierge gave me this package, and… Oh God, Dante. This is a threat, right?”
I take the box from her and open it, jaw clenching when I see what’s inside and read the note left behind. “Have all the notes been like this?”
"No, they were intense but never threats. And they always came with flowers." I glance at the black rose inside the box and finally understand her earlier suspicion of me. The black rose looks awfully similar to the black rose on my paperweight.
Fuck. That paperweight—just some cheap trinket I picked up years ago from a shop in the East Village whose name I’ve long forgotten. I make a mental note to throw the damn thing away the second I have a chance. No wonder she suspected me. I would doubt myself, too, if I were her.
“It’s alright, it’s okay,” I tell her, pulling her back into my arms and kissing her temple. “I’ll take care of it for you, baby.” I guide her to the sofa, pressing my lips on her forehead and letting them linger for a minute. "I'm going to get you a glass of water. Wait here, okay?"
She nods, and the faraway look in her eyes makes me want to take her into my arms and keep her there forever, but I need to call Matteo and alert him to this.
We're going to catch that bastard and make him pay for giving Gia even a moment of grief.
I step into the kitchen and pull out my phone, keeping my voice low as I pour water into a glass.
“Matteo,” I say the second he picks up.
“Dante? What’s wrong?”
“Gia has a stalker. He sent her a package to my penthouse. A mutilated doll with a threatening note.” I grip the counter, forcing my voice to stay level. “She’s terrified. I need you and Sofia here. Now.”
“Jesus Christ. We’re on our way.” There’s rustling in the background, Sofia’s voice asking what’s happening.. "Sofia and I will be there in half an hour. Sooner if I speed.”
“Make it twenty.”
“Done. Have you called the cops?”
“Not yet. Want to see what we’re dealing with first.”
“Smart. See you soon, brother.”
I hang up and head back to the living room, sitting down next to Gia. I bring the glass to her lips, but she pushes it away, turning those teary eyes to me. I place the glass on the coffee table and pull her into my arms.
“I didn’t think it was you,” she sniffs into my chest. “I was mad at you for lying to me about being in Europe, but I didn’t really think it was you.” She pulls back to look at me, and I hate the tears that fall. “You wouldn’t hurt me that way, would you?”
“I’d cut my arm off first before I did something like this to you, Gia.”
“I know that,” she nods, leaning into my touch when I reach up to brush her tears away with my thumb. “But I’m still mad at you.”
“I know,” I sigh, pulling her back into my arms. “I don't blame you for losing trust in me, but I couldn't stay away, Gia. I wanted to see you, and three weeks felt like a long time to be apart. I just had to be with you. Even if you didn't know I was there."
She’s quiet for a long time, sniffling silently into my shirt before she whispers, “I would have liked to know you were there.” “Sometimes, I was homesick and tired, and your voice helped me feel better. It would have made me feel better if I knew you were in the crowd watching me or if I could see you after the show.”
Before I can respond, I hear voices outside before Matteo and Sofia appear at the door, but they're not alone.
Elena and Roarke are with them, along with my younger brother, Lorenzo.
Sofia and Elena run forward, and I reluctantly let go of Gia as the three sisters embrace tearfully.
I grab the box and discreetly place it behind me before the sisters can spot it. No need to cause any more panic.
“I knew something was up with you the other day,” Sofia scolds even as she hugs her sister. “You should have told me you had a stalker, Gia.”
“I thought he would stop,” Gia sobs on her sister’s shoulder.
“It’s okay, we’ve got you now,” Elena whispers, rubbing a hand down Gia’s back, “Everything will be okay now.”
Sofia pulls back and reaches for the glass of water I placed on the coffee table earlier, but Gia shakes her head. “Okay, we’ll make you something warm. Let’s go make some tea, alright?”
We watch as the three women walk together to the kitchen before Matteo turns to me. “Is that the box?”
I nod and show them the contents.
"Apparently, she's been getting flowers and letters for weeks. She should’ve told me about them…fuck!” I still can’t get over that she kept this from me. “I don’t know why the fuck she didn’t tell me she had a fucking stalker.”
I can feel rage boiling in my blood that I couldn’t show earlier because I didn’t want to scare Gia, but some psycho has decided to mess with her. Has been messing with her for weeks.
I’m going to kill him when I get my hands on him. Slowly, I'll carve him up until he's nothing but a pile of blood and mangled flesh.
Fuck!
Matteo grabs the box from my clenched hands and studies it. “Let’s first worry about who the fucker is, and we’ll deal with everything else later,” he says, watching me cautiously. “You have to stay calm, Dante. You don’t want to scare Gia.”
No, I don’t. But a part of me is resentful of the fact that she didn’t give me a chance to protect her and resolve the matter before it got to this point. I would have caught the fucker ages ago if she hadn’t hidden it from me.
I force in deep breaths, trying to dissipate the storm thundering in my head and slowly, the rage settles into something more controlled.
“I’m fine,” I inform them even as I begin to pace. “Calm enough to know that we won’t find a goddamned thing if we check the security camera. The guy must’ve sent a courier or something to deliver the package. He would be fucking insane to show up here knowing I’d hunt him down.”
“It’s a start,” Roarke says. “I’ll go down to the concierge desk and retrieve a copy of the building’s interior and exterior lobby camera footage.”
I don’t bother stopping him and pointing out that he's basically a visitor and they won't just give him the footage. Roarke and his family run one of the most prestigious security firms in New York and probably provide security for this building, too. If anyone can do it, it’ll be him.
“And I’ll run a background check on everyone who works for the theatre and was on the European tour. My guess is it's someone who knows her schedule very well and could be with the dance company," Lorenzo, the tech whiz of the Rossi family, says, walking with his laptop to the sofa.
“Good call,” Matteo says, clapping his shoulder as he steps behind Lorenzo.
I turn my head when the women return from the kitchen, and Gia looks better than she did—the tears are dry—but there is a stubborn look about her that has my eyes narrowing. “I’m going to the theatre for rehearsals.”
“Absolutely not!” I roar.
“I’m going,” she says stubbornly. “I need to practice for the show, and I can’t let the stalker take this from me. He’s probably hoping I won’t show up for rehearsals, but I am going to prove to him that he isn’t going to control me.”
I run a hand through my hair and grab a fistful. “Gia,” I try to sound as calm as I can, “you don’t need to prove jackshit to anyone. You just need to be safe. You can rehearse here!”
“I want to rehearse at the theatre, with the others,” she says stubbornly. “I could risk my lead role by not showing up for practice. I’ve worked too hard to see it go to someone else!”
“Gia–”
Matteo jumps up and steps into the line of fire, and I vow to run him over if he suggests something that’ll put Gia in danger. "Why don't we all settle the hell down?" he starts, turning to me. "Gia is right. She cannot hide here forever, Dante, no matter how much you want her to."
Then he turns to Gia before I have time to react. "Dante also has a point. If someone in your company wants to harm you, you're not safe going alone.”
“I still have the bodyguard you hired for me,” Gia points out.
“I’ll go,” I say before any of them can say anything else. “If you must go, then I’ll go in place of the bodyguard, or better yet, we can call and have her meet us there.”
“But–”