Page 115 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince
Shrugs off his jacket.
But he doesn’t leave.
I think that’s what undoes me.
Not the suspicion in his voice earlier.
Not the way his hand brushed my cheek like he still wanted to protect me from something.
It’s this.
The fact that he’s still here.
"I didn’t want to believe it," I say quietly.
He turns.
Watches me.
"I thought Rafa was trying to protect me. That marrying into this family was a way to make sure I was safe. Untouchable."
My throat tightens. "But he wanted me here. Too much. He was too... certain. About you. About the Salvatores. About what I needed to do."
I shake my head, slow and bitter.
"He said I’d come to love the name eventually. That I’d understand why it had to be you. And I believed him, because it sounded like care. Like loyalty."
I swallow.
The pressure behind my eyes is unbearable.
"But it wasn’t about me. It never was. He wanted me here because it gave him access. Because if I was close to you, then he was close to all of it. Every route. Every safehouse. Every crack in this family’s foundation."
Dante doesn’t speak.
He sits beside me, close but not touching.
"I think he used me," I whisper. "I think he always did."
The words come out strangled.
I bite my lip, but it’s already too late.
The sob slips loose, raw and guttural.
I press my hands to my face, trying to stop it, trying to contain the thing unraveling inside me.
He reaches for me, slow and certain.
One arm goes around my back, the other gently pulls my hands away.
He doesn’t ask me to stop.
Doesn’t tell me it’s okay.
He just holds me.
I cry harder than I mean to.
