Page 16 of Savage Union
"He's too controlled for that."
"That's what makes it worse." Dante hops onto the counter, legs dangling. "The more quiet he gets, the more dangerous he is. And he was library-at-midnight quiet by the time you finished."
I suppress a shiver, remembering the cold fury in Vito's eyes. "How long will he be gone?"
"Three days. Maybe four." Dante studies me. "So it's just you and me, princess. Try not to make my job harder than it needs to be."
"And what exactly is your job? Babysitting?"
His expression darkens. "Protection. The boss has enemies. Lots of them."
"And they'd come after me to get to him?"
"In a heartbeat." He's not joking now. "Especially after last night. Word's out that Don Vito Rosso's future wife has a rebellious streak. Makes you a target."
I hadn't considered that angle. "From who?"
"Everyone who wants a piece of what Vito has." Dante jumps down from the counter. "The Calabrese family would love to gettheir hands on you. The Russians too. Hell, even some of the Commission members might take a shot if they thought they could get away with it."
My stomach tightens. "Like Bianchi?"
"Especially Bianchi." Dante's voice drops. "That man has a special kind of hatred for women with opinions. You challenged him in front of his peers."
"So I'm in danger whether I'm with Vito or not."
"Welcome to our world, princess." He gestures around the penthouse. "This cage? It's as much for your protection as it is to keep you from running."
I absorb this, turning the mug in my hands. "Did Vito tell you that, or did you figure it out yourself?"
"Both." He tilts his head, assessing me. "You're smart. Too smart to waste energy fighting the inevitable."
"The inevitable being my marriage to a man who murdered my father?"
"The inevitable being your new life." He spreads his hands. "Look, I get it. This isn't what you signed up for. But it's happening either way. The question is whether you make it harder on yourself than it needs to be."
I set down my mug with a little too much force. "That sounds suspiciously like you're telling me to submit."
"I'm telling you to adapt." His eyes meet mine. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Submission is breaking. Adaptation is surviving while keeping your core intact." He says it like someone who knows from experience. "Don Vito doesn't want to break you. If he did, you'd already be broken."
The thought sits uncomfortably in my mind. "How do you know what he wants?"
"Years at his side. I've seen how he operates." Dante shrugs. "Trust me, if he wanted a doormat, he'd have chosen someone else. The fact that you're still breathing after last night's performance tells me everything I need to know."
"Which is?"
His smile is knowing. "He likes your fire."
I scoff. "He has a funny way of showing it."
"The boss isn't exactly warm and fuzzy." Dante grabs a water bottle from the fridge. "But he respects strength. Even when it's aimed at him."
"So what—I should keep challenging him?"
"I didn't say that." Dante uncaps the water. "There's a line between challenge and disrespect. You crossed it last night. Hard."
