Chapter 24
Even though I knew they were Dorian’s brothers, being left alone with two mobsters rattled my nerves more than I wanted to admit.
Usually, my backbone and resiliency were things I prided myself on. I wouldn’t have made it through med school or the last eighteen months on the run otherwise, but something about the D’Angelo twins turned me into a coward.
They had to be the most intimidating pair I’d ever met.
And the way both their expressions turned dead serious the moment Dorian stepped out of earshot didn’t help the situation.
“So…” Gabriel said after a few painfully long awkward seconds had passed. “Now that we have you alone, this seems like the perfect time to ask about your intentions with our brother.”
If I’d had a drink, I would have choked on it.
“Sorry—my intentions?” There was no way I could have heard him right.
“That’s what I said,” he answered.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He had to be. There was no other plausible explanation. They had to be pulling my leg.
But the humorless expression on the other twin’s face said otherwise. “No one jokes when it comes to Dorian,” Matteo said. “I’m surprised you haven’t realized that yet.”
Maybe they didn’t, but it was still hard to take their question seriously.
“Well, since I’m not a 19th-century suitor, I’m pretty sure I don’t have any intentions,” I answered.
Neither brother cracked a smile. If anything, my flippant answer caused a glint of steel to flash in both of their eyes, and I was instantly reminded why it wasn’t a good idea to mess with gangsters.
“So Dorian is just some fling to you?” The note of forced casualness in Gabriel’s voice made me instantly uneasy.
I shook my head. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then I suggest saying what you mean,” he warned, a threatening edge sharpening his tone.
That was probably good advice. The only trouble was I had no idea what my intentions with Dorian were.
Sure, I knew how I felt about him—especially when his hands were playing my body like a philharmonic orchestra. I instinctually understood how safe his presence made me feel, and there was no way I could deny how right it felt to lay in his arms.
But something feeling right and actually being right were two different things.
Not that I wanted to have a conversation about the moral implications of those two differing concepts with two high-profile criminals.
“I’m sorry,” I said as tactfully as possible. “I don’t think my love life is any of your business.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Gabriel said menacingly. Somewhere along the way, he’d picked up his glass and was now slowly rolling it back and forth between his open palms.
“I think the point my twin is trying to make is that we would really hate to see Dorian get hurt.” Even though the timbre of Matteo’s voice was less openly hostile, the undertone was every bit as threatening.
Even so, I wasn’t able to stop the laugh that bubbled out of me at the ridiculous notion.
“Wait—you’re worried I’m going to hurt your brother,” I scoffed. “The mob hitman? The deadly assassin? A man who, just days ago, murdered one of your peers with strychnine, then stuck around to watch him suffer and die.”
I don’t know what I was expecting, but the brothers didn’t so much as blink.
“That’s right,” Matteo answered matter-of-factly.
“What could I possibly do to him?”
“Break his heart,” Gabriel answered without hesitation.
Oh.
Here, I’d been expecting worries about me trying to shoot him in his sleep or rat him out to the police. You know…mob stuff.
Somehow, the last thing I’d been expecting was sincere brotherly concern for Dorian’s emotional welfare…concern that went a long way toward humanizing the pair of very dangerous men sitting in front of me.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me sleeping around or ghosting him,” I tried to reassure them. “Not only is it not my style, but now I’m terrified that Dorian would slit my throat.”
“If that’s what you’re afraid of, then you don’t know a damn thing about our brother.” Gabriel slowly leaned back on his dark velvet sofa with a groan. His expression made it clear he was disappointed by my answer, but at least he didn’t look like he wanted to kill me anymore.
Still, I couldn’t help my curiosity.
“What don’t I know?”
Gabriel rolled his eyes, making it clear he didn’t think my question (or even my existence) was worthy of his attention.
But fortunately, Matteo didn’t mind talking. “Dorian’s always had a hard time connecting with people. Women especially.”
I swallowed down another disbelieving laugh. Were we talking about the same Dorian? The man whose jawline could cut glass? The guy whose blue eyes shined brighter than the Hope Diamond? Whose body looked like it had been carved by a damn Renaissance master?
All I had to do was glance over my shoulder to prove what liars his brothers were.
Even now, a line of women had formed next to the velvet rope, frantically trying to catch Dorian’s attention while he talked to Russo. Some batted their eyes and bit their lips, while others pushed their cleavage out and raised their skirts.
“Yeah…just look at all those ladies tripping over themselves, desperate to get away from.”
My sarcasm brought the focus of Gabriel’s fury right back to me.
“You think we’re talking about fucking?” he demanded with enough force to make me flinch. “Sure, Dorian could screw any woman in this place. He’s probably had a few of the chicks over there screaming at him right now, in fact. He likes to take them off to a dark corner and bang them up against the wall while no one’s looking. But you know what he doesn’t do?”
It took me a few moments of strained silence to realize Gabriel’s question wasn’t rhetorical. He wanted an answer.
Unfortunately, the man was beyond intimidating and my answer came out cracked and squeaky. “N-No.”
“He doesn’t take them home,” he said, his voice sharp enough to cut through solid steel. “He doesn’t give them a place in his bed. He doesn’t clothe them, or take out their enemies, or bend over backward to make sure they’re safe.”
A wave of guilt crashed over me.
Dorian didn’t have to do all of those things. No one had asked him to. And yet he’d done them all...for me.
“I’m sorry if I sounded ungrateful,” I said. “I realize he cares about me, but?—“
“Cares about you?” Gabriel cut me off with a terrifying bark loud enough to make even Dorian look our way. In his next breath, however, his voice was back down to a chilling whisper that could barely be heard above the music. “He’s taken you into his home. He killed to protect you. He’s about to go to war with his own family trying to keep you safe…and all you can say is that he cares about you.”
I clasped my hands together in my lap, pressing them together in a futile attempt to keep them from trembling. This time, though, the shaking had nothing to do with fear.
Even though I was pretty damn sure I didn’t want to know the answer, I found myself asking, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Dorian loves you,” Gabriel said with a grimace, almost as if he didn’t like the way the answer tasted on his tongue.
Love? Could that be true?
“Do you really think so?”
I could barely believe the sound of my own voice. It sounded…hopeful. How long had it been since I’d felt hopeful about anything?
“Yeah,” Gabriel admitted, though that truth clearly disappointed him. “Though after this conversation, I’m not sure why.”
Gabriel’s answer was harsh…but it wasn’t wrong. I knew I hadn’t come across as particularly warm or caring. It seemed like every time I learned something new about him, I let my fear drive a wedge between us.
I’d judged him rashly…just like everyone had judged me after my sister’s murder.
The realization slapped me across the face, stinging worse than any words Dorian’s brothers could hurl at me.
In a heartbeat, I shot up from the couch, utterly overwhelmed by my own shame.
“I…I need to get some air,” I said before turning and rushing out of the VIP area.
Getting past the velvet rope was the easy part.
The moment I was beyond it, though, I was immediately sucked into the chaotic embrace of the dance floor.
I tried to push my way through, but the wall of bodies was practically impenetrable. Instead of moving through them, I was pushed this way and that, tossed like a tiny rowboat on stormy ocean waves.
The dim light and the deafening music only disoriented me more. A minute or two later, I still didn’t know if I was any closer to the exit or further away. All I knew was if I didn’t get a moment of peace to pull myself together soon, I was going to lose my mind.
Just then, a hand cupped around my shoulder—big and strong. My defenses sky high, I jumped and swiveled around…to find a very concerned-looking Dorian standing right behind me.
Without thinking, I instantly wrapped my arms around him and held on tight.
“I need to get out of here,” I tried to shout above the din, but my words were consumed by the pounding beat.
But amazingly, Dorian didn’t need to hear me. Somehow, he already instinctively knew what I wanted...what I needed.
Because, without a word, he pulled me into his arms, lifted me off the dance floor, and carried me away.