Page 34 of Hateful Vows
“You allied us with him! And talk to me like that again, I’ll be the one to stab you. Now leave. Go back to your own wife.”
I unfurl my fingers from the delicate column of her throat, trailing my index finger against her jaw. Her breath catches in her throat.
“We have a gala next weekend. I’ll send you the details.”
Hate is better. I can handle hate.
Though there isn’t any reason for it since I killed the man who threatened her to get to me.
* Dante wears Gentleman by Givenchy
* Aleksei wears Creed Original vetiver
FIFTEEN
DANTE
Early morning the next day, I summon Francisco and his mother.
“You called for me, Mr Ventura?”
Francisco’s voice is uncertain, and my heart clenches at the news I must deliver. It isn’t the first time I’ve had to tell a widow she’ll be burying her husband, or one of my men that their brother has fallen. But somehow, it hits me more with the young kid in front of me. Maybe he reminds me of myself. He’s just a few years younger than I was when I lost Gio.
“Where’s your mother?”
“She’s waiting in the piano room, sir.”
“Go get her.”
He nods and scurries away, leaving the door wide open.
Irina passes by, and stops at the threshold. She strikes an elegant figure in wide-legged burgundy trousers and silk black blouse. She always looks so put together, so prim and proper. Except when I bend her over and fuck her senseless. I know what lies within her armour of sophistication, but I can’t entertain thoughts of my wife right now.
Her gaze turns towards the corridor, her attention on who’s coming to see me. She glances back to me, then to my visitorsagain. She’s barely made a step to disappear before she changes her trajectory and enters the office ahead of the Venti family—or what’s left of it—keeping the door open for them.
Her actions surprise me but I remain impassive. She stands behind me, a looming presence at my back, yet my shoulders relax and it’s like she shares the weight of the news with me. More than her acceptance of my body, this is what cements my decision to never let her go. She’s a queen at my side, and her place is beside me.
“Mrs Venti, Francisco, thank you for coming today.” I take an inhale. It’s fire in my lungs. A gentle hand clasps my shoulder and I let the comfort of her touch anchor me. “I deeply regret to inform you of your husband and son Matteo’s passing during their duties.”
A sob follows a sharp inhale. My attention is on Francisco. He has tears mounting in his eyes and is clenching his lips shut, holding onto his mother’s hand as she starts crying in earnest. He’s trying to be strong for her. A good son. A good soldier. And a child who will grow too quickly.
I hear Irina shift behind me. The display of emotions must make her uncomfortable, yet she decided to come in, to deliver the news at the cost of her own comfort.
“Of course, you will be compensated, and you don’t have to worry about anything. We take care of our family.”
“Can I see them?” Mrs Venti asks, and I nod.
“Lorenzo will take you.”
I call my driver and awkwardly say goodbye to Mrs Venti and Francisco. When they’re gone, I fall back onto my chair with a deep sigh.
The grief threatening to overtake me isn’t for the Ventis. It simply hits too close to home, something I’d rather stay buried but I could never quite push back to the deep recesses of my mind.
Irina stands in front of me. Her hand glides against my cheek and my eyes snap open. There’s a softness to her features for the first time since she became mine. Probably ever.
“Your compassion is honourable, Dante, but the dead remain dead, no matter what.”
“Not everyone can be emotionless,vipera,” I tell her. It doesn’t hold any animosity, but my words aren’t any less true.
