Page 95 of Bound in Debt
“Sit down, princess,” Dante orders, ushering me into a small apartment. I don’t really know where we are. I’ve been numb ever since Dante picked me up at the campus gate, following each of his instructions mindlessly. I got lucky—Ellie picked up on the first ring, even though she was mid-kiss fest with Billy, the star linebacker she’d dragged me to see play…God, that game feels like a lifetime ago. Billy gets my gold-star of approval since he didn’t hesitate to storm my building, Ellie on his heels, to chase Liam away. He even walked me out to meet my husband, assuring Dante that Liam didn’t get a chance to touch me.
I owe Billy more than a murmured thanks. And I owe Ellie more answers. No more secrets.
I’ll tell her everything the first chance I get.
Whenever that will be.
Finding a small gray sectional tucked in a corner, I slowly plop down and watch Dante move through the space.
I have no idea what he’s doing or why. I’m not sure whose place this is or why we didn’t just go to another hotel. But as long as Dante stays close, I think I have a shot at relaxing enough to get my shaking body under control.
I slowly become aware of Dante looming over me before he drops to his haunches, bringing us eye-to-eye. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
My brows furrow a bit because it’s not his fault. I don’t blame him. “It’s okay?—”
“What did he say? Has he been harassing you?”
Kinda.
“He—um, sent me some messages about how I fucked everything up. That he was going to take care of me.”
“He was not going to take care of you, Victoria,” Dante argues, as if I don’t already know that. “He’s a damn?—”
“I don’t want to talk about him. Can I stay here tonight? I’ll go back to campus tomorrow?—”
“You’re staying here with me,” he replies simply, frowning. “You’re not going back to that dorm room, not to live. You can still go to classes—maybe—but we’re not giving him the chance to pull that kind of shit again.”
My eyes scan the room, finding nothing on the walls but off-white paint. The only piece of furniture beyond the couch I’m sitting on is a large flat-screen TV directly across from me.
No other chairs, no coat rack, no coffee table, nothing. As if he just moved in yesterday.
“I can’t stay here.”
“You’re staying here,” Dante retorts, rising to his feet to stand to his full height. “And we’re done having this conversation.”
I know I don’t have my mother to answer to anymore, but I still have Ellie. “But, Ellie… She’s my best friend, my roommate. I can’t just disap?—”
“She’s packing your shit up right now. She’ll bring it by soon.”
“Is this…” I swallow under his intense stare, already feeling like a burden and a chore. “Um, I can sleep on the couch. I don’t want to get in your way.”
Dante’s frown deepens. “You’re my wife.”
So?
If I was his real wife, if he actually loved me, he wouldn’t have been ignoring me for the better part of a week.
“I can cook,” I offer up quickly. It’ll be one less thing for him to do, something he may come to need me for. “I can also clean.”
“The princess can cook and clean?” He quirks a brow, and I scowl at him before he chuckles. “Okay then, Cinderella, sounds good.” Dante holds his hand out to me, and I take it without hesitation as he pulls me to stand in front of him. I expect him to let go once I’m upright, but he doesn’t, holding on and keeping me close so that I have to lean my head back to meet his eyes. “You’ll need to tell me what he said.”
I don’t want to.
But I understand that Dante needs all the information if he’s going to protect me on top of dealing with Angelo.
“Okay.”
Dante nods and leads me toward the hallway before coming to an abrupt stop. I nearly bump into him, but he spins to face me and catches me by my elbows before I can really lose my balance.
