Page 62 of Throne of Sin

An older lady steps out with a huge smile. She greets Dante by giving him a quick hug that he stiffens under, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “I made you your favorite.” She gives him a plastic container of homemade cookies. I watch him interact with this lady and can’t help but notice when his softer side shines through. You would never guess he’s part of the mafia. It’s hard not to imagine us living here as a family. No one has ever held a candle to Dante.

Dante, the gentleman he is, brings me into him and introduces me, making me a part of the conversation. It’s all so very normal.

“Demi, it is so nice to meet you. There’s no way I could go without you being here. My flowers would die, no one would feed my stray cat or the birds.” She lowers her voice and leans in towards me. “The crows like a little wine on Fridays, but you have to be careful not to give them too much or they’ll get drunk. Just last week they had too much and I had to protect them from the cat.”

She leans back up, smiling at the two of us.

“Why don’t you give us the tour, Margaret.”

The house is perfect. It has two rooms, a modest kitchen that connects with a living room, and it’s all on one floor. Large sliding doors welcome us to the backyard. It’s small, but maintained. Everything about this place is perfect.

“What is the rent again? It slipped my mind,” I ask Margaret. She glances toward Dante, looking unsure.

“It’s just the regular monthly bills like electricity and water that needs to be covered. I would need you to continue with the house upkeep, with watering flowers, cutting the lawn.”

This place is too good to be true. I should be saying no, but instead I say, “I’ll take it.” This gives me four months to save to find another place that would be acceptable.

Dante claps his hands together. “Well, that was easy,” he says with a wide grin. We shake hands with the homeowner, saying our goodbyes. My stomach flutters with Dante’s hand on my lower back as we walk back to the car.

“You should let me take you shopping to fill up that extra room.”

“Dante, stop.” I turn and hold my hand up to his chest.

“Fine, one new outfit.”

Why does he have to be so nice all the time?

“It’s not that.” I swipe my hand across my nose and mouth. “The stretch marks on my stomach are from me having a baby nine years ago.”

“The miscarriage?” Dante’s phone rings and he silences it before placing it back in his pocket.

I shake my head, sucking in my lips as I study his reaction.

“You didn’t have a miscarriage?” He scratches at his head. Why is this so hard for me to say? His phone rings once again, its tone loud and grating on my ears.

“After the miscarriage, you were gone. My mother was sleeping twenty-four-seven, I had no one, I was depressed. I was being like her and sleeping all the time. Jameson started to come around and he’s the one who convinced me to get out of bed. Shortly after, I found out I was pregnant.” I swallow, watching Dante’s happiness disappear from his face. “My daughter’s name is Oakleigh. She’s the whole reason I have to make so much money.”

Once again, his phone cuts through the air. “What the fuck do you need, Max?” His eyes stay trained on mine, his facial features hard, sculpting his face like stone. He’s silent, listening to his brother. He steps past me, opening the door, and gestures for me to get in.

My fingers pick at the skin around my nail bed as I slide in the back. My heart pounds as I wait for any type of response.

Chapter 31

Dante

Myskinfeelslikeit’s on fire while Max is bitching at me through the phone. I look down at Demi; she’s staring at her fumbling hands. I want to talk to her, reassure her, but I don’t even know what I’m thinking. The one girl I’ve ever loved in my whole life has a child with a douche bag. My heart is tightening like a vice is clamped onto it and my whole chest is weighted down like I’m being buried with rocks, one after another. It’s refusing to let up.

“I need your ass down here ASAP!” Max shouts before hanging up. I keep the phone glued to my ear and my movements are rigid as I try to sort through my head. Jameson stole what was mine. That baby should belong to me.

I roll down the partition slightly and raise my voice. “Go to the club.” I need to deal with this fire before I can give Demi the attention she deserves. She flinches at the sudden steel in my voice. I open my mouth to say something, but what is there to say?

Slowly, I lower my phone, placing it in my pocket. I feel like an idiot with the rant I went on about children, all while she was listening and never saying a word.

We pull into the parking lot of the club and I roll down the partition once again. “Take Miss Gallo to my house.”

She’s refusing to look at me and I hate it. I place my hand on her leg. “We’ll talk later,” I say with a sigh and watch the back of her head bob.

Opening the door, I step out and adjust my suit. I loved seeing the way Demi’s face lit up when she looked around the house. It had me happy and content; the first time in a long time I felt that calm from within, and now I have to deal with this shit show.

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