Chapter 25
Dante
Ididn’t know it was possible to feel so light and content and happy at the same time.
A month ago, I might’ve blamed my good mood on the fresh air or the slower pace of life in Montana.
But now that Nick had said those three little words to me that made my heart race, I knew he was the entire reason my life had become so wonderful.
Just being near him as we walked the fence line felt like a dream come true.
I watched him check a post, his hands moving with the easy confidence of someone who’d been doing this his whole life.
The afternoon sun caught in his hair, turning it golden where it poked out from under his cowboy hat, and I had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him.
We were too exposed out here, too visible to any ranch hand who might happen to look our way.
But I was quickly caring less and less about that sort of thing.
“This new section’s holding up well,” Nick said, giving the wire a testing tug. “Angelo did a good job on this one.”
“That’s good,” I said, though I barely registered his words. I was too busy watching the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders, remembering what those shoulders looked like bare, remembering the taste of his skin. Remembering how it felt to be inside him.
He glanced over at me, and something in my expression must have given me away because his eyes darkened. “You’re not paying attention to the fence at all, are you?”
“Not even a little bit,” I admitted.
A smile tugged at his lips. “We have work to do, Dante.”
“I know.” I moved closer, keeping my voice low even though there was no one around to hear us. “Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the view while I work.”
He shook his head, but he was grinning now. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” he said simply, and the easy way he said it—like it was just a fact, like loving me was as natural as breathing—made my heart flutter. So much for that tough mob son I’d left back in Newark.
But before I could respond, movement in the distance caught my eye. A vehicle was coming up the long drive toward the main house, kicking up dust behind it. I squinted against the sun, trying to make out what kind of car it was.
“You expecting anyone?” Nick asked, following my gaze.
“No.” I watched the vehicle get closer, tension creeping into my shoulders out of habit.
Back in Jersey, unexpected visitors were rarely good news.
But I forced myself to relax. This was Montana.
People dropped by unannounced all the time out here.
It was probably just another neighbor stopping by to chat or asking to borrow equipment.
“Might be Evelyn,” Nick suggested. “Or one of the Nelsons. The dinner went well with them. Maybe we’re actually friends with people now.”
“Maybe.” But something felt off. The vehicle was moving too fast, too purposeful. And as it got closer, I realized it wasn’t a pickup truck like most of the locals drove. It was a large SUV, dark and official-looking and far too clean to be from a ranch.
“That’s not a neighbor,” I said quietly.
Nick’s expression shifted, concern replacing his earlier warmth. “You think it’s one of your father’s people?”
“I don’t know.” My mind raced through possibilities. Angelo would have told me if someone from the family was coming. And my father always sent word before sending anyone to check on me. He wouldn’t show up unannounced. This felt different. Wrong.
The sedan pulled up to the main house and stopped. A man got out. He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing slacks and a button-down shirt that looked out of place against the rural backdrop. Even from this distance, I could see the bulge of a shoulder holster under his jacket.
“Shit,” I breathed.
“What?” Nick moved closer to me, his hand instinctively reaching for mine before he caught himself. “Who is that?”
“I don’t know, but he’s armed.” I started walking toward the house, my protective instincts kicking in. If this was trouble, I needed to get between it and Nick’s family, and my gun was in our bedroom nightstand. “Stay here.”
“Like hell,” Nick said, falling into step beside me. “That’s my family’s house.”
I wanted to argue, wanted to make him stay back where it was safe, but I knew that stubborn set to his jaw. He wasn’t going to listen. And honestly, I loved that he didn’t cower and didn’t let me fight his battles for him.
As we got closer, I could make out more details. The man was in his forties, with graying hair and the kind of weathered face that came from years of hard living. He stood with the casual confidence of someone used to being in control, his hand resting near his weapon as he surveyed the property.
Then he turned toward us, and I saw his face and the badge clipped to his belt.
It was Detective Caruso.
“Hello, Dante,” Caruso said, his grin wickedly spreading from ear to ear. “It’s been a while.”
My blood ran cold. This was the detective that had nearly infiltrated the family business, the one that had been following me for years to put my entire family behind bars. Last thing I knew, my father was calling in a favor to have Caruso demoted or fired. So what was he doing here now?
“Detective,” I said carefully, keeping my voice neutral even though my heart was pounding. “I thought you’d moved on to greener pastures.”
“Did you now?” He took a step closer, and I noticed Nick tensing beside me. “Funny thing about that. See, I did get demoted. Your father made sure of that. But that just gave me more time to focus on what really matters.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew.
“You, Dante. Always you.” His eyes flicked to Nick, then back to me. “I’ve been watching. Waiting. Building my case. And now I finally have everything I need.”
My mind raced, trying to figure out what he could possibly have on me. I’d been careful since coming to Montana. Clean. The only thing I’d done was ranch work and fall in love with my husband. There was nothing he could pin on me.
“I don’t know what you think you have,” I started, but he cut me off.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Valenti. We found the room where Mr. Benson was tortured by you and your goons after he confessed everything to me.
It seems your people didn’t do a good enough job of cleaning the blood off the floor.
” He pulled out a set of handcuffs, the metal glinting in the afternoon sun.
“Dante Valenti, you’re under arrest for the murders of Thomas Benson, Margaret Benson, and their two children, Emily and Jacob Benson. ”
The world seemed to tilt sideways. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when I’d finally found something worth living for.
“That’s bullshit,” I said, my voice harder than I intended. “I didn’t kill anyone!”
“That’s what they all say.” Caruso moved closer, his hand on his weapon now. “Turn around. Hands behind your back. And don’t make any sudden movements.”
“Wait,” Nick said, stepping between us. “You can’t just—he didn’t do this. Whatever evidence you think you have, it’s wrong.”
“Step aside, sir,” Caruso said, his tone brooking no argument. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t,” Nick shot back. “He’s my husband.”
Something flickered in Caruso’s eyes… satisfaction, maybe, or vindication. “So, Dante married you, huh? Interesting. I’m sure the prosecution will find that detail very enlightening when we discuss motive and opportunity. Maybe I’ll have them look into this ranch and how it was acquired as well.”
My stomach dropped. It wouldn’t take a lot of digging to find out that the Wesley ranch was floundering before the marriage, or the fact that the Valentis had invested heavily before the marriage was even planned. Blackmailing someone into marriage was still illegal, even if Nick loved me now.
But there was no point in resisting. Caruso looked like he was itching to shoot me and the last thing I wanted was Nick having to watch me bleed out in the middle of the yard.
“Nick,” I said quietly. “Let him do what he came to do.”
“No,” Nick said, his voice breaking. “Dante, we can fight this. We can—”
“Please.” I met his eyes, trying to communicate everything I couldn’t say out loud. That I loved him. That this wasn’t over. That I’d find a way back to him. “Trust me.”
I saw the moment he understood, saw the fear and anger and helplessness wash over his face. But he stepped aside, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
I turned around, putting my hands behind my back. The cold metal of the handcuffs bit into my wrists, and I heard the click as they locked into place. Caruso’s hand gripped my arm, steering me toward the SUV.
“You have the right to remain silent,” he started, and his voice faded into background noise as I looked back at Nick.
He stood there in the middle of the driveway, looking lost and broken, and it took everything in me not to fight, not to run, not to do something stupid that would make this worse.
I’d spent my whole life being the tough guy, the one who solved problems with violence when necessary.
And this time was no different. I couldn’t let my emotions win.
I had to be the cold, tough mobster I knew how to be.
Because if I fought now, if I gave Caruso any excuse to add resisting arrest to the charges, it would only make things harder later. And I needed to get out of this. I needed to get back to Nick.
As Caruso shoved me into the back of the SUV, I caught one last glimpse of Nick through the window. Angelo had appeared from somewhere, his arm around Nick’s shoulders as my husband stood there watching me get taken away.
The door slammed shut, cutting off my view, and the SUV started moving. I leaned my head back against the seat, closing my eyes against the tears that threatened to fall.
I’d finally found happiness. Finally found someone who saw past the monster everyone expected me to be. And now it was all being ripped away because of something I didn’t do.
“Comfortable back there?” Caruso called from the front seat, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
I didn’t respond. Didn’t give him the satisfaction.
“You know, I’ve been following your family for fifteen years,” he continued, like we were having a casual conversation instead of him hauling me off to prison. “Your father, your uncles, all of you. I’ve seen what you people do. The lives you destroy.”
“Then you know I’m not the one who did this,” I said, my voice flat.
“Do I?” He took a turn too fast, and I slid across the seat before catching myself. “Because from where I’m sitting, you had motive, means, and opportunity. Benson was talking to me. Your father found out. And you’ve always been daddy’s favorite attack dog.”
“I want a lawyer,” I replied coldly.
“Of course you do.” Caruso’s smile was sharp.
“Don’t worry, Valenti. You’ll get your phone call.
Get to explain to your daddy how you got caught.
Maybe he’ll even visit you in prison. Though I hear federal facilities don’t allow conjugal visits, so your little cowboy husband will have to find someone else to warm his bed. ”
The rage that flared through me at his words was white-hot and instant. My hands jerked against the cuffs, and I had to force myself to stay still, to not give him any excuse to add more charges.
“Leave him out of this,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I don’t think I will.” Caruso’s voice dripped with satisfaction.
“See, I’m very interested in how exactly you ended up married to Nicholas Wesley.
Can’t imagine daddy approved of that one.
” He paused for a moment, glancing back at me.
“Unless he needed a new operation, a new branch of business.”
I stayed silent and forced myself to breathe, to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help. It would only give Caruso more ammunition.
But the thought of Nick, standing in that driveway looking shattered, not knowing if he’d ever see me again… That was almost too much to bear. We’d just found each other. Just admitted how we felt. And now this.
Now it was all over.