Page 26 of Dante

By the time I walk back inside, I’ve convinced myself I’m being paranoid. Probably the lack of sleep last night, with all the times Dante and I gave into our pleasure.

“Ready for lunch?” I ask as soon as I step inside. “How do grilled cheese and tomato soup sound?”

“A little plain for my taste,” a raspy voice answers.

I barely have time to register the large man dressed in all black coming toward me before his fingers wrap around my bicep, digging in deep as he grips my arm and drags me into the living room.

“Mr. Santarossa!” I exclaim, trying to break free of the intruder’s hold, when I see Raul lying on the ground, his walker tipped over as if they pushed him down.

“Ah-ah, little miss,” the man tsks, spinning me around to face him. “So this is the woman who made Dante lose his edge,” he says. The man licks his lips and gives me a menacing smile, his yellow teeth and rancid breath making my stomach churn. “A little too big for me, but I guess some people have fetishes.”

Rage and terror flood my system, the conflicting emotions tangling in my lungs and making breathing hard.

Who the hell is this guy? Why is he here? What does this have to do with Dante?

“Wh-what are y-you–”

His hand smacks against my cheek before I register the burning pain. My head jerks to the side at the force of his slap, and before I can make a sound, his meaty hand covers my mouth in a punishing hold.

“Shut up, bitch,” he snaps, his nearly black eyes narrowing on me. “You’re good for one thing; being a bargaining chip.”

I dart my gaze from side to side, my breaths growing choppy against the stranger’s palm. Something shifts in the corner of my vision, and I hear a roar as Raul drags himself into a standing position and charges the man with his walker, hurling it at him and knocking him off balance.

His grip loosens on my face, and he lets go of my arm to fend off the attack. I spin out of his reach and run to Raul, catching him before he falls again.

“Come on,” I hiss, dragging his frail body through the living room. “We have to–”

The front door bursts open, and three more men dressed in all black file inside, stopping us in our tracks. Without a word, one man grabs Raul while another grabs me, forcing us face-down to the ground.

I turn my head to the side, my cheek resting on the carpet as my attacker presses his knee into my back and ties my wrists together. Raul is facing me, his brown eyes filled with anger. He no longer looks like a fragile seventy-five-year-old with a life-threatening disease. No, this Raul is fierce and protective, though his body isn’t allowing him to fight back.

“We’ll be okay,” I tell him, blinking back tears when his arms are yanked backward so they can be tied at the wrists. “Dante will come for us.”

“I know,” Raul says, nodding as much as he can from that angle. “My son is a good man. He will do what’s right.”

Those words ease the aches and pains in my body. I never thought I’d hear them from Raul, and I’m terrified he won’t get the chance to say them to Dante.

“Aye!” shouts the original intruder, stomping over to us. “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up. Guess I’ll have to make you.” He kneels in front of me and pulls a syringe out of his pocket.

“No! No, I–”

A needle pricks the side of my neck, and I hear a faint scream, though I’m not sure if it’s coming from Raul or me. The world fades, and my vision grows blurry before fizzling out altogether.

Hurry, Dante. We need you…

CHAPTERNINE

DANTE

After getting off the phone with Romeo, I took a cab downtown to do some shopping for tonight. Everything has to be perfect. Not just the meal but my words. My actions. I have a chance at happiness, at a future I never knew I wanted. I just need to find the right way to tell Cambria and my father that I’m in the mafia. And convince them to relocate to New York.

No pressure.

As I stroll down Michigan Avenue, I reach into my pocket, my fingers brushing over the little velvet box I purchased from Tiffany & Co. I’m hoping the five-carat diamond ring surrounded by sapphires in a vintage setting will help seal the deal.

Crazy? Obsessive? Over the top? Absolutely. Ask me if I give a single fuck. Cambria ismine, and it’s time the entire world knows.

I’m about to hail another cab to take me to a market for groceries when my phone buzzes with a text. Probably Romeo with an update on the contract with the meatpacking union, aka the UFCW. Valentino was supposed to settle on a lower fee for their services laundering dirty Di Salvo money earlier today, which is what the call was about this morning.

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