Filthy Marcellos: Dante
Filthy Marcellos, Book Three
by Bethany-Kris
“Mafia is a process, not a thing. Mafia is a form of clan-cooperation to
which its individual members pledge lifelong loyalty. Friendship,
connections, family ties, trust, loyalty, obedience—this was the glue that
held us together.”
—Joe Bonanno,
Former boss of the Cosa Nostra Bonanno crime family
Dedication
To my gram, for always being so supportive and for loving me as I am.
Table of Contents
Filthy Marcellos: Dante
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Other Books by this Author
Coming Soon
Copyright
Chapter One
Control doesn’t always equal power.
Dante Marcello had never been more aware of that statement until now.
“I own forty percent of Marcello Industries. You can’t get rid—”
“I can,” Antony interrupted calmly. “I own fifty. Giovanni owns ten.
I’m paying you out, Dante.”
Dante blinked, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The large wall-towall windows overlooked the city, a sight so familiar to him that he found it
comforting. He spent eight hours a day, six days a goddamn week in this
building. Marcello Industries had always been just as much his as it was his
father’s. This didn’t make sense.
“It’s time for you to stand on your own,” Antony said. “You’re capable,
so show me.”
“Stand on my own?” Dante’s anger vibrated through his entire body.
“I’m twenty-eight-years-old. I’ve worked with this company since the day I
graduated—”
“You’ve worked for me.”
“This is ridiculous!”
“Is it?” Antony asked, opening his arms wide. “I’m asking you for
something simple, Dante. That’s all.”
“You’re upending my entire fucking life. Everything I’ve worked for.”
“No, everything I’ve worked for. I want to see what you can do, now.
Challenge me. Rival me. Surpass me. But you can’t be me, Dante. You have
to be you.”
His father pushed away from the edge of the desk, turned around, and
grabbed a small slip of paper off the top. Antony held the check out to
Dante, waiting patiently for him to take it.
“Go on,” Antony urged.
Dante eyed the check with too many zeros to count, his disdain making
him sneer. “Fuck you. I don’t want your money, Dad.”
“It’s your cashed out shares, so it’s not mine.”
He couldn’t believe how unaffected his father seemed to be. Like this
entire show was nothing for him.
“Burn it,” Dante spat. “I don’t want it.”
“You’ve rallied against everything I’ve asked of you. You said it, son.
You’re twenty-eight—nearly twenty-nine. This is more than Marcello
Industries right now. It’s only one thing. Think about it. If you won’t step
out on your own willingly and begin your life, then I will force you to.”
Dante swallowed the burning fury scalding his throat. “You’re talking
about marriage. Again.”
And doing in it a really shitty way, Dante thought.
“Marcello Industries is just one thing,” his father repeated. “It’s a start,
though.”
“I—”
“You’re capable, Dante. Show me.”
•••
Dante slammed the office door open so hard it crashed into the wall
with a bang. Gio stood from his chair, arm outstretched with a gun pointing
at the door and the hammer cocking back. Cain growled from his spot at his
master’s feet. The moment his younger brother knew who intruded on his
space, the weapon lowered.
“What in the fuck are you trying to do, get your head blown off?” Gio
asked bitingly.
“Did you know?”
“Seriously, doing shit like that is liable to earn you a bullet, Dante.
We’ve got issues on the streets right now, and the last thing I need is people
rushing my office like a fucking idiot. You’re goddamn lucky I’m a see first
and shoot second kind of man. Lucian or Dad would have popped your
stupid ass.”
Dante ignored his brother’s rant. “Did you know?”
Gio set the gun to the desk. “I just asked—”
“What Dad was going to do to me with Marcello Industries, did you
know, Gio?” The expression on his younger brother’s face said he didn’t.
Dante fell into the closest chair as bitterness raged. “I guess you wouldn’t.
He doesn’t need your sign off. You’ve only got a ten percent share.”
“That I don’t even use,” Gio said like his brother ought to already know.
“I get a payout once monthly into an account I never touch.”
Dante glanced at Gio. “What the hell do you do with it, then?”
“Pay taxes on it and shuffle it around between other accounts to pillow
illegal funds.”
Made sense. Dante chewed on his cheek, irritated. “This is crazy.”
“What happened?” Gio asked, resting into his chair.
“He paid me out.” Dante winced, remembering the check he tossed into
his father’s garbage can. “Tried to. I refused the money.”
“How much?”
“That’s what you want to know, really?”
Gio shrugged. “Curious about the company’s worth.”
“Four-hundred-million.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah,” Dante said, sighing. “He’s in everything, you know. Marcello
Industries has a hand in fucking everything. The last five years alone it’s
doubled in value.”
Gio cleared his throat, shooting Dante with a look. “Since you signed on
after college.”
“Exactly.”
“But you’ve focused hard on developmental projects with real estate
and investing. Dad goes all in everywhere else, including those.”
Dante frowned. “What are you getting at?”
“Your attention is better spent where you’re great and not just good.”
“So?”
“So, why would Antony keep you in a place that’s only going to hold
you back by making you focus on several pictures instead of just the one?”
“Fuck you,” Dante muttered, his anger coming back rapidly. “You don’t
get it.”
“Why, because I don’t own a twenty-million dollar condo on Fifth
Avenue and I don’t want to? Shit, Dante, I can see Dad’s point, even if he
has a crappy way of proving it. He’s going to make you do what you’re
good at instead of eventually forcing you to take over a company you might
not want in thirty years.”
“It’s Marcello Industries for a reason, asshole.”
Gio nodded. “Sure, but companies sell out all the time and he’s fiftyeight-years-old.”
Dante canted his head, something in the lilt of his brother’s tone
catching his attention. “What does his age have to do with this?”
“Nothing. I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”
“Liar. What aren’t you telling me?”
Gio wouldn’t meet Dante’s stare. “Dante—”
“Tell me, Gio,” Dante demanded.
“A few months ago, after Johnathan’s Christening …”
“What about it?”
“It wasn’t just about Marcello Industries, was it? Today, whatever he
said to you, it was probably more than just the business. Am I right?”
Dante’s jaw ticked. “Maybe.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Dante’s opinion on the topic of marriage was well-known to his family.
As in, he didn’t want to be married at all. His life was a thoroughly planned
event and always had been. The most important goal he wanted to achieve
was just beyond his reach—being the Don of the Marcello Cosa Nostra. He
wouldn’t be considered until a woman stood at his side wearing a wedding
band and toting his last name.
It was completely fucking absurd, but that was the Commission’s
demand.
“Has Dad told you, yet?” Gio asked.
Dante frowned. “Told me what?”
“I can’t believe he hasn’t told you. We’ve got a Commission meeting in
six months and—”
Whatever patience Dante had left was gone. “Told me what?”
“I’m not surprised he’s paying you out and forcing you into your own
thing, especially where Marcello Industries is concerned. He’s ready to
retire.”
Dante’s mind fell silent, his thoughts leaving right along with his ability
to talk.
“Lucian is not going to take over the family. I’m too young and I’m not
made for it. You’ve got six months to get your shit figured out. Have you
been seeing anyone?” Gio asked quietly.
Dante leaned back in the chair, the ceiling gaining his attention. “No.”
“Not even for a quick fuck?”
“Well, that’s not what you asked, little brother. Really, I don’t have
much time for that at the moment, either.”
“If someone is good enough to sleep with, why isn’t she good enough to
date, Dante?”
Dante could ask his brother the same goddamn thing about his past
ventures with women, but Gio was married now, so the point would be
moot.
“It’s just marriage,” Gio continued. “What are you scared of?”
Not being able to give a woman the normal things that came along with
marriage and love. Failing at one thing in life that should come easy, but
likely wouldn’t. Beginning something with someone only to have it end
eventually.
Dante wouldn’t admit those things out loud. “A woman isn’t going to
make me a better boss.”
“But she might make you a better man, Dante. And I bet that’s what
you’re most afraid of.”
•••
A week later, Dante found himself downing a rum and coke while
listening to men bark at one another.
“I’m telling you, there’s a huge problem on the streets right now,” Gio
said, his frustration starting to show.
“In your streets, maybe,” Lucian replied. “Mine are fine.”
“Mine, too,” Leo, a capo, said.
“Well, mine are seeing a hit,” Val, another Marcello capo at the far
booth, put in. “I’m with Giovanni on this one. There’s something happening
there.”
“The coke, right?” Gio asked.
“Mostly,” Val agreed. “It’s not selling at all. Blow sells, Lucian. It’s like
fucking pop rocks candy.”
“I know it sells well because I don’t have a problem selling it.” Lucian
blew out a harsh breath, shooting Dante a look. “What do you think?”
Dante shrugged. “We import the shit, so it’s hard to say.”
“What’s the importing having anything to do with it not selling on the
goddamn streets?” Leo asked.
Dante was five seconds away from telling Leo to eat his gun. He had
little to no patience for this nonsense today. Besides, it wasn’t supposed to
be his day to deal with these men. Once a month, all nineteen of the
Marcello capos gathered to pay their dues to Dante’s father. Seventy percent
of everything they made cash-wise was handed over, drinks were had, and
issues discussed. Antony, in all the years Dante could remember, had never
missed a tribute.
Chancing a glance at his watch, Dante realized his father was already an
hour late. Practically unheard of for the Marcello Don. “Where’s Antony?”
Every capo in the room perked at the question. None of the men seemed
entirely surprised that Antony wasn’t there, but rather, interested in why
Dante asked.
“I thought you would know. Paulie isn’t here, either,” Gio said, his brow
furrowing.
“Huh?” Dante asked. “Why would I—”
He shut his mouth before he said something stupid. Antony, Paulie, and
Dante all held the three highest positions in their Cosa Nostra family. It was
Dante’s responsibility to know what was going on with the other men
around him, being his father’s underboss and all. Saying he didn’t know
would only make him look like a fool.
Something he surely didn’t fucking need.
“Torno subito,” Dante said, excusing himself and pushing out of the
booth.
Dante made sure he was hidden from view when he pulled out his
cellphone and called his father. He hadn’t spoken to his father in a week
since their fight. It was unheard of for them, but he was still pissed off
about Marcello Industries. Dante figured keeping some space would let his
anger ebb.
It hadn’t.
“Ciao,” Antony greeted, his voice far too cheerful for Dante’s liking.
“Where are you?” Dante asked immediately. “It’s tribute and your capos
are waiting.”
Fuck pleasantries. It wasn’t the time.
“I’m taking your mother to dinner and a show. She bought a new dress.
I wanted to show her off.”
“What?”
“I said—”
“Dio, I heard what you said. Where the fuck is Paulie, then?”
“Bowling.”
Bowling?
Bowling!
Dante stared at the wall, wondering what in the hell had become of his
life. “Are you serious?”
“You can call Paulie and ask him which hall he’s at. And if you don’t
believe me about my plans tonight, would you like to speak to your mother?
She can tell you which movie we’re seeing after our meal.”
“No, I don’t want to speak to my fucking—” Dante stopped himself,
pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to regain some sense of control.
Or at least the semblance of it. “Please tell me it’s your age making your
mind go, you forgot the date, and that’s why you did this to me today.
Because otherwise, the only thing I can come up with is the fact you’re
being an asshole over last week.”
Antony was silent for longer than Dante liked before saying, “Did you
just call me old?”
“Dad—”
“No, now you’ve pissed me off by calling me old. That’s unacceptable.
I’m not coming to tribute, Dante, so deal with it like you would any other
time.”
“You’re here any other time!”
“Am I really?” Antony asked.
“Tell me, is this about last week?”
“Cristo, son, come on. Why would I be angry about last week? I made
the choice to pay you out, not the other way around. I wanted it to happen.
It’s just tribute, Dante. You can fill me in later.”
“There’s issues these men need to discuss with you,” Dante said, trying
to make his father see reason.
Nothing his jumbled mind came up with explained his father’s sudden
behavior and lack of interest in his famiglia.
“So, they can discuss it with you, Dante,” Antony replied quietly. “Like
they have been for the last few months at every tribute.”
Dante’s brow furrowed as he considered his father’s words. “But,
you’ve been here.”
“Staying in the shadows, yes. My involvement was very little. If you
didn’t notice me letting you take the reins every once in a while, that’s not
my fault. Get some observation skills. You’re going to need them soon.”
Thunderstruck, Dante felt a headache begin to throb. “You could have
called me, Dad. Given me a little warning you weren’t going to be here.”
“Phone works both ways, son. I wasn’t the bitter one this week, you
were. Instead of trying to talk it out with me, or even discuss what you
wanted to do after Marcello Industries, you ignored me. I simply let you.”
“You’re making me look like an idiot here.”
“No, I’m making you look like a Don.”
With that, Antony hung up the call.
“Everything all right?”
Dante slipped the phone in his pocket as he turned to face Lucian. His
older brother’s approach had been quiet, but Dante knew he was there
before Lucian said a word. “I don’t know.”
Lucian’s brow lifted, amusement playing on the corner of his mouth.
“That’s a pretty shitty answer.”
“Dad’s not coming.”
“I figured.”
Why was everyone else completely unsurprised at Antony’s no-show?
“I don’t think he’s going to be coming to any of these for a while,”
Dante added quieter.
“Figured that, too,” Lucian said, shrugging. “What’s wrong?”
Dante met his brother’s unbothered stare. “Am I ready for what this
means?”
“Guess we’re going to find out.”
•••
“Antony is indisposed with his wife and Paulie is busy, so let’s continue
as we usually would,” Dante said.
“Sure.”
“Got it, boss.”
“Back to the issue with the blow, then,” Gio said, nodding at Val.
Dante didn’t show his surprise at the title of boss. Acting like he fit the
bill seemed a better plan, anyway. “Yes, back to that.”
Leaning back against the booth, Dante tapped his fingers to the table’s
edge as the men spoke. Since Antony had made his status on his position
clear to the men by not showing, as well as Paulie not coming to tribute,
Dante’s new role was expected. Being acting boss meant a lot of things, but
mostly, it meant he had control, and he needed to damn well act like it. So,
instead of sitting in the booth like before, he stood at the ready,
commanding.
“There is no issue,” Leo stated, waving his hand dismissively in Gio’s
direction. “He just doesn’t want to admit he might be losing a little bit of his
touch, that’s all. Skip’s got problems, but only in his own mind.”
Gio sneered. “What did you just fucking say to me?”
Silence enveloped the chatter of the men sitting around the booths and
tables. All eyes turned on the two capos who looked like they were ready to
go head to head. Dante couldn’t have these men at one another’s throats,
even if one was his brother. It looked bad on him for the men to be fighting
amongst themselves.
“Hey! Cool it, you assholes,” Dante warned. “I’m not in the mood for
this shit.”
Gio didn’t take his glare off the rival capo for a second, but he wisely
kept whatever smartass comment he was chewing on inside his head.
Cazzo, this was going to be a long day.
“Since Giovanni’s crew isn’t the only one suffering a hit in this
particular product, I’m inclined to think there might be something there we
should dig into,” Dante noted, drumming his fingers to the tabletop.
“Of course, you would,” Leo muttered.
Dante scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying … boss.”
Dante didn’t like the way Leo had to force the respect to stay in his tone
as he handed that title over. “Just fucking saying what, Leo?”
“Well, you know … he’s your brother and—”
This was bullshit.
“Spit it out. If you’ve got a problem, I’m willing to hear it. If you’re too
much of a goddamn coward to speak the fuck up, then sit the hell down and
shut your mouth before I sew it closed. Do I make myself clear?”
Leo’s short-trimmed mustache twitched. “Yeah, boss, I got it.”
“Good. Moving on. Gio, you’re not the only crew, right?”
“No,” his brother replied quickly. “Val’s streets come right up to mine,
and since we run most of that area together, it’d make sense he’d see a hit,
too. And he is, right, man?”
“About thirty percent down these last two months, I’d say,” Val
confirmed with a shrug. “According to my guys, anyway.”
“Mine isn’t,” Lucian added in where he stood beside Dante. “But that’s
not to say there isn’t something happening in that area. I’m a bit farther
from Gio's and Val’s streets, and I’m selling to an entirely different group.
Val was right earlier. Blow sells, regardless of the price or cut of the
product. It sells well, so long as you’re the only crew selling it and there’s
no competition.”
“And it’s not right now,” Dante said, musing the implication of that.
“Has there been any talk?”
“Not from our men, just that it’s not moving like it does,” Gio
answered.
Dante sighed, gazing up at the club’s ceiling. “We import the product,
so that begets an issue there.”
Leo, still looking like he was sucking on a lemon, asked, “I still don’t
get that; how so?”
“Simple, really. We don’t control the people providing us with the
product. We just name the substance, demand an amount, pick up and pay
for the shipment, and then we control it from there. We have no idea if
someone else is underpricing us in that area with the suppliers or not.
Beyond that, there’s the idea that the supplier could be cutting the product
on the boat with something, skimming off our shipment, and then handing it
out to another party.”
“All the while, we’re still paying full price,” Lucian said, filling in the
blanks.
Dante nodded. “Yeah. Problem is, that’s only an idea. It isn’t fact, and
we’ve never had that kind of problem before. Our suppliers deal in drugs,
but they’ve always been trustworthy with business. If they fuck us over, we
fuck them over.”
“Who’s stupid enough to work their shit on Marcello territory?”
Carmen, an older capo, asked from three booths over.
“I suppose that’s what we have to find out,” Dante replied. “I want
everyone and their wife’s fucking dog on that like flies on shit until we
figure it out.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” Lucian said.
“It shouldn’t take much prodding,” Gio agreed.
A couple of envelopes on the table caught Dante’s eye, reminding him
of the whole point of the damn day. “And before you all start bickering like
a bunch of barking spiders again, pay your fucking tributes so I can pretend
like I give a fuck, yeah?”
“Yeah, boss,” came the echo of several voices.
Lucian laughed quietly as the cash started flowing and the bills were
counted like it was any other day.
Dante only had one more issue to handle and then he could swallow
another few drinks and get back to his condo. “Oh, Leo, something else …”
The capo in question cocked an arrogant brow at his boss. “What’s
that?”
“Your face,” Dante said with a smirk.
The chattering around them quieted again.
“My fa—”
“That mess of hair above your lip. Get it gone.”
“But—”
Dante held up a single hand. “The rules are clear: no facial hair. I didn’t
make the fucking rules, I just enforce them. By next month, it better not be
there.”
Leo’s jaw clenched. “And I suppose Giovanni’s three day scruff doesn’t
bother you a bit, does it?”
“He’s not sporting a mustache, asshole. It’s not the same thing.”
“Yeah,” Gio said, grinning like a fool across the booth. “Besides, I don’t
wear this look to be cute. I wear it because my wife likes the feeling of it on
her—”
“Gio,” Lucian cautioned.
“I was going to say her cheek, cafone.”
Dante laughed. “No, you weren’t.”
Business as usual.
•••
Conversation milled around the dining room at a dull roar as Dante’s
mother and his sisters-in-law served the table. Dante didn’t think the
Marcello tradition of having a large supper for their close friends and
immediate family would ever change. He wondered whose house would be
the next to take on the near impossible task of feeding twenty or more
people after an entire morning and afternoon in church.
“How’d you do on Wednesday?” Antony asked Paulie from his spot at
the head of the table.
“Good. Beat my overall.”
Antony laughed. “You’re the only fool I know who still likes to bowl.”
“It’s a good hobby,” Paulie defended.
“It’s bowling.”
“And what should I do, old friend? Collect knives and cars like you
do?”
“Better than tossing a ball at a bunch of pins.”
Chuckles filled the dining room, including Dante’s.
Lucian leaned over in his seat closer to Dante, his voice lowering so no
one else around could hear. “Gio’s got news about the blow issue we talked
about on Wednesday.”
“Oh?”
Dante wondered why his younger brother wouldn’t have mentioned
something. Gio was sitting to the right of Dante at the table, for Christ’s
sake. Then again, Gio was thoroughly involved in a discussion with his
wife, and when Kim was in the picture, he cared little for anyone else.
Dante let it go.
“I think he would have brought it up this morning before church, but
he’s trying this new thing where he doesn’t prick Dad’s nerves all the time,
you know.”
Dante rolled his eyes. “No business on Sundays. What’s the fucking
news?”
“Quit your whispering down there,” Antony ordered.
Dante skillfully flipped his father the middle finger without his mother
seeing as Cecelia sat down at the table. Turning back to Lucian, Dante
scowled. “In a couple of months, I’ll be twenty-nine, you’ll be thirty, and
he’ll still be barking at us about whispering at the dinner table.”
“He’s never going to change,” Lucian said, laughing quietly.
Cecelia had Antony distracted with some concert she wanted to go to,
so Dante took advantage of that.
“Anyway, news.” Dante picked up the cloth napkin and snapped it open,
placing it over his legs. “What about it?”
“There’s a small crew working their shit in at a majorly reduced cost
compared to ours, and according to some, a better product in general.”
Lucian shrugged, mimicking Dante’s actions with his own napkin. “So,
there’s that.”
“What, like they’re selling to the dealers?”
“No, they’re dealing it, too. Which, I would think, is why they slipped
by us so fast and did the damage they did before we finally caught up to
them.”
Dante grunted under his breath, agitated already. “See, that’s a
problem.”
“I know.”
“No, you’re looking at it from a capo’s perspective who is losing
money. I’m seeing this as a territory thing. Nobody should be in our streets
working anything unless we know about it or have had a good old sit-down
with them so they understand the rules.”
“That, too,” Lucian agreed quietly.
“Somebody wanted to catch our attention.”
“Could be.”
Dante’s gaze narrowed as he considered that. “But why?”
“That’s your job to find out.”
Yeah, Dante was aware.
“Make contact, ask for a meeting, and make it quick, yeah?”
“Will do.”
“Dante,” Antony called down the table. “Do us a favor and say grace.”
Dante figured he’d prayed enough today in church, but he had no
interest in annoying his father after spending more than a week ignoring
one another. Or rather, Dante ignoring his father.
Antony never did things just because he wanted to. There was always a
reason behind it and usually, it was a good one. Dante decided to remind
himself of that whenever his anger caught up with him over Antony paying
out his shares.
Time to let that shit go. That didn’t mean Dante wasn’t going to give his
father hell in the real estate development market, because he sure as hell
would when he got back to it.
“Sure, Papà.” Dante smiled and held his hands out palm up for those
sitting beside him to join in the prayer. Both his brothers’ palms met his. He
waited until everyone around the table were connecting as well before
beginning. “Blessed Father …”
Chapter Two
“You’re sure you don’t want to be present for this?” Dante asked his
father.
“Nope,” Antony replied on the other end of the phone.
His father said it so nonchalant, as if Dante should have already known
the answer, which he did. Two weeks after the surprise no-show at the
tribute, Antony had done very little in regards to his Cosa Nostra. Dante, on
the other hand, was overloaded.
“Besides, you have more patience for this sort of thing than I do. I’m
liable to kill first and ask questions later when it comes to someone
encroaching on my business.”
“Well, I like to give them the chance to explain before I kill them,”
Dante joked.
Sort of.
“Fill me in when it’s over, Dante. Try not to make too much of a mess.”
Before Dante could respond, his father added, “I’m kidding; you’ll do fine.”
With that, Antony ended the call. Dante climbed out of his Mercedes,
straightening his suit jacket with one hand as he closed the driver’s door.
Lucian and Gio met their brother at the entrance of Gio’s safest club.
Well, safest for a sit-down on a Thursday night, that was.
It hadn’t taken long at all to make contact with the small crew filtering
drugs that weren’t a Marcello product onto the streets they controlled. A sitdown was arranged without issue and every demand Dante requested was
apparently adhered to. The ease of the competition’s agreement to Dante’s
wishes again led him to believe these people wanted to catch his attention
for whatever reason.
He was going to find out what that reason was.
“How many people inside the club are ours?” Dante asked.
“About ten spread around,” Gio said.
“And the unknowns?”
“No one, yet.”
“At all?” Lucian asked.
Gio shrugged. “According to my workers, everyone inside is a regular
or someone they’ve seen at least once or twice except for a redhead at the
bar who has been sipping on carbonated water and scrolling through her
phone. She’s probably not the crew we’re looking for.”
“If they don’t show up tonight, they won’t be alive by the weekend.”
Lucian clapped his hands together. “Ready, boss?”
Dante chuckled. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
Thirty minutes and two rum and cokes later, three men strolled into the
quiet club dressed in black slacks, black sport coats, and shined shoes. Their
gazes swept the floor of the club, landing on the table where Dante and his
brothers sat. He’d asked Gio earlier in the day to have the table set into a
corner so his back would be to a wall and no one else during the meeting.
Dante tilted his head to the side, catching his brother’s attention. “I
believe our guests have arrived. Greet them?”
“Sure,” Gio said.
Lucian and Gio left the table and their drinks behind. Greeting the
guests in the Marcello way had nothing to do with a hello and a handshake.
Instead, Dante watched his brothers carefully search the three men, and
thankfully, not one of them put up a fuss about it. By the looks of it, not one
of them had a thing on them but wallets and cellphones, either.
As the three men approached his table with Lucian and Gio right
behind, Dante stayed sitting. The tallest of the three looked at Dante,
waiting for the man to stand and welcome him. Dante wouldn’t. Bosses
didn’t stand to meet lower level associates, and certainly not rivals. They
were to bend down and greet him, but he didn’t expect these outsiders to.
“Sit,” Dante said, waving at the chairs across him.
The men stayed standing. The tallest nodded once and said in clear
Italian, “Salve, Dante Marcello. Come sta?”
Dante allowed nothing to register on his features for the man to pick
apart. The man’s greeting was formal instead of friendly, which he
appreciated.
“Bene, grazie. Come si chiama?” Dante asked.
“Gaetano.”
“And your friends, what are their names?”
Gaetano smirked. “Associates.”
“And them?” Dante asked, firmer the second time.
Gaetano canted his head in the direction of the second tallest man to his
right. The man sported a scar above his brow. “Carlos.” Then, he gestured
to the other man at his left and said, “Pao.”
It didn’t escape his notice how Gaetano offered no surnames for the
men, nor did he call them employees. In fact, he used the word associates,
which led Dante to believe he considered himself at the same level as the
other two.
It was odd, if nothing else. One of these men had to be the boss, so
which one was it and why had he allowed Gaetano to introduce them all?
Dante didn’t like to be toyed with.
Dante waved at the chairs. “If you refuse to sit again, I’ll ask you to
leave without giving you the chance to explain the ridiculous idea that your
crew could somehow work on my streets without my knowledge or
permission. Believe me, you want the chance to explain. Please, sit.”
After they were seated, Dante waited for his brothers to settle in at
either ends of the table before he continued with anything.
“Obviously you wanted to catch my attention, and now you have,”
Dante said quietly.
“We wanted nothing,” Carlos replied, sitting back in his chair, almost
too relaxed for Dante’s liking. No boss would react so unbothered.
“You must have wanted something,” Gio said to the far right end.
“Because otherwise, you’re just a bunch of—”
“Easy, Gio,” Lucian said before turning to their guests. “Where is your
product coming from?”
“Not from your importing ventures, if that’s what you’re asking,” Pao
answered with a lift of one shoulder. He examined his fingernails as if he
were bored with the entire situation already. “Our contacts that manage our
shipments have nothing to do with Mexico as yours does. We checked up
on a few things, you see.”
“And,” Gaetano drawled, tapping his finger to the tabletop, “… ours
comes direct from the source, so we’re not overpaying for the cost of it
traveling hands. Some might think it’s a little riskier, say if the only hands
before ours were caught … we disagree. It’s a good arrangement.”
“Very profitable,” Carlos agreed. “Although, at the price your blow is
selling on the streets, I’m surprised it’s made you any money at all.”
Without barely any prodding at all, Dante immediately disliked Carlos
the most out of three men. Really, he hated them all because they were
doing nothing but playing word games. Dante was so irritated with the
show of these men, he could spit. Still, he stayed quiet and let his brothers
talk.
“We had no problems,” Gio pointed out, crossing his arms.
Pao mimicked Gio’s position. “You left that unfinished.”
“How so?” Lucian asked.
“He forgot to tack on ‘before you came along’ to the end of it,” Carlos
explained, chuckling.
Dante watched Gio’s gaze narrow. That was never a good sign. Between
the three Marcello brothers, Gio was the one who took very little shit off
someone before he went for the throat. And he was relentless when he did.
It was extremely unsettling how these three unknowns only seemed to
want to pick at the Marcello brothers, not discuss or explain themselves.
Dante had sat across the table from quite a few disrespectful people in his
life, but they always made a point of getting down to business eventually.
“Why those districts?” Gio asked, his tight jaw. It was the only
indication of his frustration.
None of the men answered.
The back and forth with silence in between seemed to go on with no
ending in sight. The longer it did, the more irritated Dante became. The
men alluded to a leader amongst them, but never spoke as if one of them
were actually it. The baiting continued, though. Dante let it go on for
another twenty minutes, just to see if his brothers could pull something
from the men, but no … nothing.
It was a possibility that their game was to keep Dante confused, or even
all the Marcello brothers, but for what reason, he didn’t know.
No boss would pull shit like this.
Dante looked around the table of men, finally coming to an
understanding. None of these men were the boss of their operation. Not a
single one looked to any other man around them for permission to voice his
opinion, a direction for which he should take, or a leader to make the final
call on the sit-down.
This entire charade could have been avoided had Dante realized this
sooner and his very valuable fucking time wouldn’t be wasted. Nothing
pissed him off more than someone wasting his goddamn time.
“This is done,” Dante said, pushing his seat out and standing.
None of the men stood with him. It was yet another sign that not one of
them felt as though they were the person holding the power.
Sickening.
Giovanni glanced up at his older brother with a furrowed brow. “But—”
“But nothing,” Dante snapped, his irritation swelling.
“Dante, we don’t have answers, yet. I want to know why there is shit in
my streets that isn’t mine and is taking away business and cash from my
crew.”
“Exactly.” Dante flicked his hand dismissively at the guests who had
done little during the sit-down but talk them in circles and piss him off.
“And from these fools, we’re not going to get anything.”
“Hey,” Gaetano growled. “Fools is a pretty strong word for a small
group of men who infiltrated a quarter of your territory in less than a couple
of months and managed to undercut your bestselling product by nearly
half.”
Dante’s gaze narrowed in on the asshole he wanted to make choke on
the barrel of his gun. Playtime was over. The Marcello Cosa Nostra didn’t
bother to make nice with little start-up crews like this. They simply took
them out.
It was a call he would have to make. Not that he particularly liked it, as
it was always better to make peace than spill blood in their world, but he
would make the choice, nonetheless.
“When the Marcellos demanded this meeting, we did so with the
intention of speaking boss to boss,” Dante said, keeping a calm façade but
boiling on the inside. “That was the agreement set up for this night. Instead,
what we found was a bunch of thugs playing with drugs who clearly don’t
have the first clue about the force they’ve just come up against in the
Marcellos. So, we’re done here. There’s nothing more to talk about.”
“Oh?” Gaetano asked.
“Yes, oh. It’s like this, I gave your boss the chance to speak with me
face to face so he could explain his motives for being in our streets and he
didn’t come. Whatever his reasons for not showing, I don’t give a good
goddamn. Shunning a boss is not acceptable in Cosa Nostra and it doesn’t
make a single difference to me if you are la famiglia or not. When you
come into my territory, you’re automatically agreeing to play by my rules.”
Something akin to a sneer twisted at Carlos’ lips beside Gaetano. “But
you’re not actually the boss, either, are you, Dante?”
“Acting boss is just as good as being boss. It means I make all the calls.
And since you’re sitting in a club my brother owns, on streets we run, and
in a territory our family controls, it would be wise for you to remember you
are not the one with the power here.”
Lucian’s lips drew thin as he too stood from the table. “You’re sure this
is what you want to do, Dante?”
Dante nodded. “This is it. Care to finish this nonsense out for me? I
need a fucking drink after this shit show.”
“Will do,” Lucian said.
“Do be sure they understand the consequences of this farce, too. It’s a
fucking travesty when people waste my time. Like I don’t have enough
damn problems as it is.”
“Got it.”
Dante left the group at the table without a backward glance. Their
nonsense was dropped from his mind the moment he decided they weren’t
worth the effort to keep trying to plow them for more information.
At the bar, he rapped his knuckles down to the top and caught the
bartender’s attention. “Crown. Three fingers. Neat.”
“Coming up, Boss,” the guy replied.
It didn’t matter how many times Dante was called that, it still hadn’t
quite sunk in. Everyone else around him didn’t seem surprised at the shift
going on in the Marcello family but him. Antony had set him up well.
Dante suppressed his smile, turning his back to the bar so he could
watch his older brother lay into the idiots at the table across the room.
Quietly enough that no one else could hear, but guessing by the severe
expression Lucian sported as he railed into the men, his brother was doing
what he did best: inciting fear.
Maybe he should have stayed at the table just for the show.
Out of the corner of his eye, the curve of a trim waist melding into
shapely hips that were covered by a tight bodycon-style black dress drew
Dante’s attention.
Dark red curls hanging below her shoulders framed the woman’s
profile, but did little to hide her features. Skin the color of peachy cream,
ruby colored lips just full enough to set into a natural pout, and high
cheekbones gave her the appearance of sweetness and innocence. But her
body, that dress, and the black, peep-toe five-inch stilettos tapping a beat to
the barstool spoke entirely of sin and sexuality. She kept her gaze on the bar
top, dark lashes fanning over her cheeks while the ghost of a smile played at
the edges of her mouth.
Dante’s throat tightened right along with his slacks, and the longer he
stared at the woman, the more his interest peaked. The night had been a
shitty one, so why not end it in a good way? Like between that woman’s
thighs.
Dante turned as the bartender produced his drink of choice. “On the
house, Boss.”
“Thank you.”
Sipping on the whiskey, Dante pushed away from the bar, interest fully
focused on the woman three stools away, and made his way down. When he
slid onto the stool beside the redhead, a sexy, almost knowing, smirk curved
her lips.
Her hazel eyes regarded Dante from the side, taking him in slowly. She
looked him up and down and didn’t even try to conceal the fact she was.
His lust burned a little hotter at the sight. There was something about
women who knew what they wanted and didn’t hide their intentions that
turned him on like nothing fucking else.
Red manicured fingernails, the same shade as her hair and lips, dragged
along her outer thigh to the hem of her dress, forcing Dante’s stare
downward.
Cristo, she had gorgeous legs.
He bet they would look even better wrapped around his waist.
“Are you drinking?” Dante asked, his tone rough.
“Not tonight.”
Dante blinked, stunned. The thick Italian accent coating her words set
him back a step. He hadn’t expected that and for some reason, it put him on
edge.
“It’s a club, dolcezza. There’s isn’t much else to do on a Thursday night
when you’re sitting at the bar.”
She smiled sweetly—too sweetly. “Oh, I’m doing more than sitting,
bello. And I don’t need to drink to do it.”
Her voice was demure, her words rolling off her tongue quietly, but
surely. The straightness of her back in the stool spoke of class while her
blatant regard of him gave an air of confidence.
She dazed him.
Dante wasn’t accustomed to that.
A soft pat-pat-pat sound gained his attention to where her finger hit
down on the bar. On the inside of her left index finger, one word was
tattooed in fancy black script: Queen.
The edginess burrowed in deep again. When things felt off for Dante,
they usually were. This woman made his insides scream it. Both in a good
and bad way.
Dante chanced a glance back at the table where his brothers were
standing, readying to leave as they pulled on their jackets. They were still
talking, though. But the man who had annoyed Dante the most—Gaetano—
wasn’t paying Lucian or Gio any mind. No, he was watching the woman at
Dante’s side.
Not with interest, as if she may have caught his eye by chance, but
instead, he looked at her with the familiarity of a friend.
Dante’s thoughts raced when what he really needed was for his mind to
be silent. During the entire meeting, none of the men had spoken of their
boss in direct context or out of it. The Marcello brothers had continually
referred to the unknown leader of the group as a he because that’s what they
assumed they were dealing with in whatever game the men were playing.
Dante was only now realizing they were wrong in doing so.
“You know, you surprised me,” the woman said, drawling her words out
with a sensuality that could make a man’s mouth water. Again, she dragged
her gaze from Dante’s leather shoes to his green eyes. “You’re much more
handsome in person than I thought you would be, Dante Marcello.”
Three things in life made a man most vulnerable: sex, love, and
children.
Sex occasionally led to love, and for some, it also led to children. As
Dante was incapable of having children, he had no interest in love. Sex,
however … well, that was something he simply couldn’t do without.
It was just too damn bad the need left him exposed, and it had to be now
he learned the lesson to never think with his cock when business was in
play.
The woman swiveled fast on her chair at the same time Dante lurched
toward her. He found himself between her thighs, crowding her back
forcefully to the edge of the bar, nearly pushing her off the stool. The
magnum he always kept hidden at his back in a holster was seated in his
palm before the woman could speak and the barrel pressed under her chin at
her throat.
Dante ticked the gun at her jawline, making her tilt her head back under
the weight. She stared him head-on, unabashed and unafraid, smirking
mischievously. Her hazel eyes danced with amusement and menace.
He hated how her unfazed attitude at his warning only made him hot.
Something sharp nipped at Dante’s groin. Without needing to look
down, he could feel the blade of a knife threatening to cut into his balls.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Go on, cock your hammer back, bello,” she urged low. “You wouldn’t
be the first to try and take a bite out of me, Dante. I’m not a little girl who
frightens easily.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Dante demanded.
“Catrina Danzi.”
His gun dug harder into her jaw. Her knife reacted accordingly at his
sac.
“What do you want from me?”
Catrina flashed white teeth in a wicked smile. “I heard you need a
wife.”
Dante nearly balked. “What did you just say?”
“Oh, I think you heard me perfectly well, Dante.”
As her knife drew a line upwards across his cock, Dante realized he was
as hard as steel. “Remove your fucking knife.”
“I don’t think so. See, your gun is still at my throat and that isn’t very
nice.” Catrina gave him another sinful smile, adding, “Besides, I think you
like it.”
Dante cocked the hammer back on his gun, completely unbothered by
the few patrons milling around. He had no idea if his brothers had taken
notice of his current situation or not, but at the moment, his focus was
entirely on this strangely beautiful woman and her knife at his dick.
“I dislike guns in general,” Catrina said, tilting her head to the side as if
they were having a conversation about dinner. “They’re heavy and loud.
Barely anyone questions a small knife, but a gun, however, someone always
takes issue. And, with a woman like me, there’s no need for a gun.”
Dante couldn’t stop himself from watching her hazel eyes as he asked,
“Why’s that?”
“Because men are predictable, and with a face like mine, they can’t help
but let me close. Once they do …”
“They’re fucked.”
She had drawn him in like fucking prey.
And he let her.
“Exactly. Put your gun down and we can talk.”
Dante didn’t. “Those men, they’re yours, yes?”
“They are and I was quite surprised you let their nonsense go on for as
long as you did.”
“I was waiting for one of them to slip up.”
“I suspected,” she said with a sigh. “They didn’t, of course. I’ve trained
them well.”
Dante had another thought, and it irked him. “It could have been my
father here tonight at this meeting and not me, Catrina.”
“Call me Cat.”
Dante’s cock twitched at the way her name rolled off her own damn
tongue. Christ, how could one woman piss him off and turn him on at the
same time? It was disgusting.
“It could have been my father,” Dante repeated, needing to get far away
from his thoughts.
“No, I knew it would be you,” Catrina whispered.
Good God.
Dante felt an uncontrollable urge to put a distance between his body and
Catrina. The part of his brain that wondered what her mouth would feel like
as he fucked it made him stay pressed at the junction of her thighs with her
knife at his balls.
“Word travels fast in our business, Dante. Seems you’ve been taking the
reins a lot lately, but a little more talk went along with it. To be boss, you
need a wife. Something you don’t have and seemingly, you don’t want to be
married if your rebuttals on the issue are anything to consider.”
“How do you know my opinion on marriage?”
“Another thing my pretty face gets me when I want it to is information.
What could a sweet woman really do to a Marcello, hmm? She’s only
curious, they think. Stupid men.”
Dante’s throat felt thick. “You sought me out for a proposal?”
“In a sense,” Catrina murmured. “I have something you need, and you
have something I need. It might work and we won’t know if we don’t
discuss it.”
“I don’t know you,” Dante forced out. “And after tonight, I don’t think I
want to.”
“You really need to drop your gun, bello.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“No, I think handsome fits you quite well.” Dante annoyance grew, but
before he could respond, Catrina’s knife disappeared from his groin. She
slipped the blade into a sheath at her thigh. Catrina waved behind Dante,
undoubtedly at the men she had brought along to play their games. “This is
just a taste of what I’m capable of.”
Not that he wanted to, but since she had removed her weapon, Dante
replaced his inside the holster at his back. “I don’t appreciate you sending
your men in your place.”
“Not just my men, Dante. This entire thing. The drugs; your streets; and
the information. You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you?”
Dante blinked, unsure of what she was asking him. Catrina’s finger
tapped to the center of his chest, sending sparks blooming across his skin.
The tattooed word on her slender, pale digit caught his eye again.
“Catrina Danzi,” she repeated.
“That name rings no bells.”
“To the outside world, it shouldn’t. If it did, I wouldn’t be very good at
my job, Dante.” She struck her finger on his chest again. “I think I’ll head
out and take my men with me.”
Dante stepped back. “Do that.”
Catrina slid off the stool with a learned grace that Dante would
appreciate if she were any other woman and not one that had seriously
fucked with his head and time tonight. Passing him by, she turned at his
shoulder, wiggling her fingers teasingly.
“For you, it’s Cat, but they’ll know me better as Queen.”
Stunned, Dante observed the men get up from their respective seats and
follow the redhead out of the club without a word. Lucian and Gio,
however, were only a few feet behind Dante, both sporting expressions
churned with anger and shock. Some patrons were being herded out of the
club by men Dante recognized as his own … or rather, his father’s.
“Did I hear that woman right?” Gio asked when the coast was clear.
“Depends on what you heard,” Dante replied quietly.
“A lot,” Lucian said for his brother.
Dante lifted his shoulders in response, but even the action felt robotic.
He didn’t like being tricked and he didn’t like being cornered. Dante was
neither a circus show nor an animal needing trained. That woman—Catrina
—had treated him like both.
It pissed him off more.
“Plan remains the same,” Dante said, reverting back to his cool
demeanor. “I want them off my streets.”
“Even if it’s a woman running them?” Lucian asked.
“Especially because it’s her running them.”
Chapter Three
Catrina Danzi required but one thing in life to keep her happy and not
for the reason most would suspect: men.
She didn’t need or want their intimacy. Very little about a man
interested her enough to keep her attention. The few men she had forged
relationships with, physical or otherwise, had been either a pawn in
someone’s game, or dead before morning.
They didn’t call her a black widow, though.
No, they called her the queen.
The only reason she required men in her life was for business.
Being a successful Queen Pin was partly about understanding the
environment of the work, then the product came along, and finally, the most
important of them all was the ability to find the clients. Cat was mighty
good at finding hers. She always had been.
It wasn’t hard when her looks drew attention, her charm closed the gap,
and her product kept them coming back for more. She fit in to high society
without gaining attention to her place. If a man—any man so long as he had
the right amount of cash and clout—needed her to be the ghost supplying
his substance indulgence, she was the perfect fit.
She didn’t touch the men, though. A good Queen didn’t get involved,
certainly not emotionally, and definitely not with a client. Feelings and
business didn’t work, regardless of how some men tried to convince her
differently. If just one of her clients would realize his worth to her was only
as good as the bottom-line on his bank account, maybe they’d get the hint.
Right. She doubted it.
Cat had a signature. One she was known for by every client who had her
on speed dial. Beyond the bodycon dresses, red lips, and stiletto heels that
accentuated her sexuality and held attention, they had all come to know her
as Queen.
Just like that. Simple and clean. Kind of like her business prerogative.
Well, as clean as dealing drugs could be, that was.
It had taken Cat a decade to amass the specialty clientele hidden in her
black book. No, those weren’t just for hookers and madams. Cat had her
own list. Politicians, high profile judges, celebrities, and influential families
from all over the country lined her pages.
Sure, they could buy their blow or whatever else they needed from any
dealer on the streets, but that always carried a risk. Cat was known for her
silence, her talent for never being seen, and her track record of keeping
everybody happy.
Plus, she was pretty sure there was a bit of ego mixed in with her
clients, as well. Like maybe her high-class standards mixed in with her no
bullshit attitude, the intelligent wit, and the queen title that came along with
it all made them feel like she wasn’t just a drug dealer.
Dio, the fools; they were so wrong. She was just as filthy as the man on
the street corner selling to feed his own habit. Another thing Cat never did
was touch her own product. There was no profit to be had if you were
snorting all your cash.
Yeah, that little girl from the Sicilian village sure came a long fucking
way from where she started.
Standing from the chair she rested in, Cat gave her whispering men a
once-over as they spoke in hushed tones around the small kitchenette in the
hotel room.
“What’s all the whispering for?” Cat asked.
Pao turned in his seat. “How do you think that went, regina?”
“You mean having a gun shoved in my face or leaving him stunned?
Because it isn’t the first time that’s happened to me, on both accounts.”
Gaetano snorted. “Doesn’t faze you a bit, does it?”
“No, I expected him to react that way once he figured it all out.”
Cat was lying through her teeth, but she didn’t want her men to know.
The fact was simple, Dante Marcello had surprised her. The last thing she
expected him to do was threaten her like he had. Men were easily
influenced by Cat’s seemingly innocent exterior and then blindsided by the
darkness hidden under her beauty.
Sure, Dante had been caught by her at first, but that didn’t last long.
Cat took notice of Carlos’ silence. The man had voiced his displeasure
about her choices repeatedly, and it was starting to get dull. More than
anything, Cat hated to be questioned. Especially by a man.
“Carlos?” Cat asked at the same time she waved for Gaetano to come to
her.
“Sì, regina?”
“You’re terribly quiet, and considering you’ve had the most opinions to
share this week, I’m curious why you’re clamming up now.” Cat pointed at
the back of her dress. “Gae, would you unzip me, please? I need to get out
of this damn dress.”
“Turn around,” Gaetano replied.
“You won’t like what I have to say,” Carlos explained.
Cat let Gaetano help her reach the zipper on the back of her dress. He
pulled the little metal tag down until the article could be slipped off. All the
men averted their eyes as Cat stepped out of her dress and covered up again
with a white silk robe Gaetano passed to her.
“Fine, be honest with me,” Cat said, nodding to Carlos. “Brutally so,
even. I won’t be angry.”
It was a trap and any man who worked for Cat would realize it.
Unfortunately, Carlos’ personal opinions were affecting the reasonable side
of his brain lately, and he would take her bait.
He didn’t disappoint.
“Why involve this Marcello at all in this plan of yours, regina? All
you’re about to do is give up everything we’ve worked for, anonymity
included. Do you really think you’ll be the ghost queen if your last name
becomes Marcello? It’s downright … stupido.”
“Watch it,” Gaetano barked, coming to Cat’s defense as he always did.
Cat patted her companion on the arm, quieting Gaetano. “It’s fine, he’s
just doing what I asked.”
Fact was, Cat needed her men for her business to continue being the
success it was. There were avenues of clientele where her men fit in better
than she did, especially where women were concerned or even the high-end
dealers supplying to several. They were also her protection and comrades.
But she never let them forget who was boss. Not for one goddamn
minute.
Carlos was forgetting his place.
“Well, since it’s my choice to make and only my name going on a
marriage license,” Cat drawled, crossing the floor to stand in front of Carlos
and Pao at the table, “… you can safely assume your position bears no merit
for me, yes?”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it, regina? Nothing we say matters.”
Cat clicked her tongue, gaze narrowing. “Funny, my buttons weren’t the
only ones you pushed tonight, were they?”
Carlos’ brow fell. “Mi scusi?”
“You heard me.” Cat took another step forward, keeping her arms
crossed over her chest. “Before the meeting tonight, I was clear in my
instructions. You were to talk the Marcellos in circles and keep me out of it
directly, but not agitate Dante specifically. And what did you do, Carlos?”
“Nothing different from what you told me to do, Cat.”
There was another mistake to add onto Carlos’ growing list. When Cat
acted as their boss, and the queen was out to play, Cat was not.
“You know why I told you not to anger him, Carlos.”
Carlos sneered. “Worried how your men act might affect the way he
sees you as a business woman and potential wife?”
Cat’s nerves were pulled taut. She suspected Carlos’ behavior was a
direct shot at her and an attempt to screw up her plans, but he simply
confirmed it.
Carlos jabbed a finger in Cat’s direction. It was the last straw for her in
regards to his life, but his next words sealed the deal. “You’re putting us all
in danger and in a spotlight for a stupid fucking—”
The knife at Cat’s thigh was pulled from the sheath before Carlos could
say another word. She swung the blade with perfect precision, slicing
several red ribbons across his knuckles and up his arm. His blood
immediately pooled from the cuts and dripped to the hardwood floor. Cat
stepped away and put her knife in place before Carlos even pulled his hand
back.
“You fucking bitch!” Carlos shouted, standing from his chair so fast it
toppled over.
Pao moved out of his chair a great deal slower than his counterpart,
moving away from the scene with a knowing expression.
“You’re bleeding all over this beautiful cherry hardwood. Go clean
yourself up, now.”
Carlos glared. “I’ll—”
“What will you do, Carlos?” Cat taunted, knowing damn well she
looked cruel. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Cazzo!” the bleeding man hissed, moving away from her.
The moment the door connecting her suite to the men’s closed, Cat
turned to Gaetano. Pao had come to stand by his side. “Things are going to
be slow for the next year or so on the business side of things while I get
everything safe and corrected that needs to be done. I know it’s going to put
me in a spotlight to possibly marry into a family like the Marcellos, but I
need this protection.”
“Do you think he’ll take the bait?” Pao asked.
“I think so,” Cat replied. “But I think I’ll need to push him into it. Let’s
give him a week to look for me, see what he finds. In the meantime, lay
low, stay off the Marcello territory, and everything should be fine.”
Gaetano tipped his chin in the direction Carlos had gone. “What about
him?”
Cat waved over her shoulder dismissively. “Make him disappear. He’s
tested my patience and challenged me. I can’t have him acting like that, so I
won’t have him near me at all. I’d do it myself, but—”
Gaetano laughed. “We know, regina. You just had those nails of yours
done again.”
“You know me so well.” Cat turned as Pao followed behind Gaetano.
“And the next time we sit down with Dante Marcello, I expect you both to
be on your best behavior. Carlos wasn’t the only one pushing the man’s
buttons tonight.”
“Got it,” they echoed.
•••
“Do you believe in love, Gae?” Cat asked.
Gaetano eyed her from the other end of the dining table, his wine
swirling in his glass. “Why, regina?”
“Just Cat tonight, Gae.”
“All right, why, Cat?” he asked again, chuckling deeply.
She watched the couple three tables down behind Gaetano. The man
and woman were young, mid-twenties likely, and sitting terribly close at
such a large table with so much space. Their hands were constantly
touching and their gazes, dazed with something Cat didn’t understand,
never left one another.
Was that love? Real love?
Cat wondered what it felt like to be so adored and wanted. She
supposed she was by the people in her life, in a way, but not like that.
“Curious minds,” she finally said, glancing back to Gaetano.
“I can honestly say I have loved every man who has been beneath me
for a short period of time. It usually ended when they left my bed with a
smile.”
Cat laughed. “Beautifully said, Gae.”
“I try.” Gaetano sighed heavily, looking over his shoulder at the couple
Cat had been watching for some time before turning back to her. “Love
doesn’t mix well in this business. It puts roots into the ground and keeps
you there. That’s what you always told me, wasn’t it?”
“But do you believe that?” she pressed quietly.
“Where is this coming from?” Gaetano asked.
Cat sucked in a large breath, willing her furious thoughts to slow. “He
did shock me the other evening. Dante Marcello, I mean. I assumed I had
him figured out like most men before I put myself in his presence, but
clearly I knew nothing. When he pulled the gun on me, I—”
“You didn’t respond any differently than I’ve ever seen you react
before,” her comrade interjected.
“Maybe so, but it still stuck with me. It’s in here, now,” she said,
twirling a finger by her temple. “I’m not sure where to take that or how to
move from here.”
“He’s just a man.”
“A man who surprised me,” Cat muttered.
That was dangerous territory. Men were her pawns and she was Queen.
She moved them as she saw fit, not the other way around.
“What does that have anything to do with love?”
“Nothing, but it’s got me to thinking.”
“About what?” Gaetano asked, clearly confused.
Gaetano had been her friend for longer than Cat cared to remember
about her life. Shortly after she left home at fifteen, she met a younger
Gaetano who was only three years older than herself. She thought him
funny and charming, and he was one of the only men who was not affected
by Cat’s games or guiles because he held no attraction for her.
She needed a man like him in her life. A friend, a very good one.
“I thought Vincenzo loved me once,” Cat confessed.
Gaetano cleared his throat, obviously shocked at where the conversation
had turned. “You never talk about him anymore.”
“Well, I wonder why.”
Because that awful man had made Cat who she was to other men. After
running away from the emotional and physical abuse her step-father leveled
on her daily, Cat found the comfort of an older gentleman she could trust
while working in a club. She had, of course, lied about her age to get the
job.
Vincenzo Savino had seemed like a God to a young Catrina with his
money, status, and seemingly cultured view of the world. His nice clothes
simply hid the snake underneath. For years, nearly a decade, he held Cat in
his suffocating grip, training her to be this unfeeling, uncaring and cold
creature.
“I was so open to him,” Cat said.
“What do you mean?”
“To his ways,” she explained softly. “After being abandoned by my
biological father and then hated by the man who raised me, not to mention
dismissed by the woman who should have protected me, how could I have
not wanted someone to be the hero?”
“Cat,” Gaetano said, scoffing darkly. “Vincenzo was no hero.”
“I thought he was at first. And I also thought he must have understood
me, you know?”
“Not really,” Gaetano admitted.
“He gave me the perfect character to play, Gae. He turned me into this
… persona of a woman who would never be the poor girl from the village,
forgotten and uncared for, lonely and afraid. Doesn’t that make you think he
knew what I needed, then?”
“What, to feed your hatred for men?”
“I don’t hate men,” Cat snapped, her stare cutting to Gaetano sharply.
“Not now, but you did. And really, you’re not all that different, Catrina.
You’re still a goddamn maneater.”
Maybe she was. It was becoming hard to tell the difference between
who she was then, who she was now, and who she wanted to be. Hell, even
Cat didn’t know.
“Anyway,” she continued, waving flippantly. “I did think he loved me
once.”
“But you were never involved with him, not sexually.”
Cat shrugged. “No, but I needed a father figure and he gave me that.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I think he used your weakness against you and molded you into exactly
what he needed.”
Gaetano was absolutely correct. Cat knew it.
“This Marcello …” her friend said, trailing off with a raised brow.
“Give me your advice, Gae. I’m dying to hear it.”
“Don’t forget, he’s just a man, Cat.”
Yes. But again, one that had surprised her.
“I don’t know if I believe in love that is untainted and free of
manipulation and filth,” Cat said, dropping the conversation altogether and
going back to the beginning all over again.
“Oh?”
“But I would like to.”
•••
“Ciao, buona sera, Dante,” Cat murmured the moment the condo door
closed. “It’s a beautiful evening outside, yes?”
Dante’s gun was out and pointing instantly, straight at Gaetano.
“Fucking hell! How did you get inside my goddamn condo?”
“I’m good with men,” Cat explained, dismissing his concerns with a
wave of her hand. “For what the cost of this place probably was, the
building should get security guards who can’t be manipulated by a pretty
woman.”
Dante’s gaze narrowed but his gun didn’t lower. “Noted.”
“Your kitchen is magnificent,” Cat said, glancing over her shoulder at
the black marble and stainless steel.
“It would shame my mother if it was anything less.”
Cat smirked. “You Italian boys and your mammas …”
Dante arched a brow. “What do you want, Cat?”
Satisfaction swept through Cat. She didn’t outwardly show it. Part of
her battle was already won if he was calling her Cat as she’d told him to
and not Catrina.
“I would appreciate it if you lowered your weapon from Gaetano’s
direction,” Cat said again. “As I said, he’s a good friend.”
Dante’s gaze cut to a quiet, stoic Gaetano.
“How good of a friend?” Dante asked.
Cat laughed. “Oh, what do you say, Gae?”
Gaetano didn’t blink. “Quite good, regina.”
“Yes, he has even seen me naked a time or two. Worry not, Dante. There
are three things about Gaetano that pleases me. One, he’s extremely
protective of me. Two, he’s got an awful attitude. And three, I don’t have
the right bits to turn him on.”
Dante cleared his throat, eyeing Gaetano again. He dropped his gun to
his side. “I see.”
“We’re careful about keeping his homosexuality quiet, and I’m sure you
understand why.” Cat surveyed her manicured nails as she said, “I suppose
his sexual preferences make you uncomfortable being Cosa Nostra and a
devout Catholic.”
“I don’t give a flying shit who he fucks,” Dante said sharply. “It’s also a
sin to eat shellfish, but my mother loves it, and you won’t meet anyone
more faithful to God than her. It’s a sin to be left-handed, but every man in
my family is. As far as Cosa Nostra, I didn’t make the goddamn rules.
Besides, he’s not in with la famiglia, so again, he can fuck whoever he
wants as long as it isn’t me.”
“You’re not my type,” Gaetano replied.
“Thanks. Now, get out of my condo.”
Cat sighed. “Now, Dante—”
“Not you, him. I suspected you were going to approach me again after
your men did a little disappearing act this past week on the streets. It’s like
this: if you want to talk, we do so one on one. He leaves. I won’t have your
minions breathing down my neck, Queen. I’m not some fucking sociopath
who might hurt a female if I get her alone. Even if that female is you.”
Cat took note of his use of Queen and not her name. “You’ve done some
digging, I assume.”
“Sì,” Dante confirmed.
“Did you like what you found?”
“Depends on how you look at it.”
Cat nodded to Gaetano. “Go to the car.”
“Regina—”
“Go, Gae. I am fine. You know this.”
Gaetano did as she asked, but he didn’t look pleased about it. Dante
stood aside to let the man pass. Once the door was closed, Cat stepped away
from the wall.
“If you break into my condo again, I won’t be so nice the second time,”
Dante warned.
“I was surprised you were nice this time, frankly.”
“I’m still deciding what to do with you.”
Cat grinned but kept quiet.
“I have an office,” Dante informed as he kicked off his shoes. “I would
prefer to have you in there.”
The way Dante said the words were innocent enough, but something
inside Cat reacted to the thought of him having her. It was impossible to
deny Dante Marcello was a handsome man with strong lines shaping his
features and body, the confident posture he sported, and the power he
wielded in his family. That didn’t mean she had to give in to those urges
whispering in the back of her mind.
Besides, Cat hadn’t let a man get under her skin in a long damn time.
Dante Marcello would not be the first to dig his heels in and set her off.
“Let’s go,” Dante said, loosening the knot in his tie.
Cat followed behind her new companion in silence as he walked
through his condo.
“Did you go through my place?”
“No,” Cat answered.
“Can I trust you to be honest?”
Cat laughed lightly. “I would tell you if I did. Though I couldn’t help
myself with the kitchen. I had to look around and admire the setup.”
“You cook, then.”
“When I can. We Italian women have a way about that. I’m sure you
understand.”
“You could say that,” Dante muttered, opening up the third door down
in the long hallway. “Ladies first.”
“I’m a woman, but I wouldn’t go so far as calling myself a lady, Dante.”
Dante grunted something unintelligible under his breath, waving at the
open doorway. Cat went inside without question, finding the first
comfortable thing she could, which just happened to be a leather couch
against the far wall. Instead of sitting, she laid across the black leather and
crossed her heeled feet on the armrest.
“What did you find out about me, Dante? I’m dying to know.”
Dante took a seat behind his oak desk, pulling a file from a drawer
before tossing it to the top. “Sicilian descent, born in America to an Italian
mother who came over on a green card but returned with you to Italy
shortly after your birth. I suspect she couldn’t continue working here with
no one to help after you were born and so she went home to her family.”
“All true,” Cat noted, impressed with his thoroughness.
“You’re twenty-eight-years-old—”
“Hey, now. Just recently turned. Give me a bit of credit, bello.”
Dante’s gaze surveyed her from across the room. “You seem to like
calling me that.”
“It fits. You’re very handsome. I think so, anyway.”
“Don’t play games with me, Cat. I will not be the puppet to your master
who bends to your whims and control. If we’re going to sit down together
and have a discussion about why you approached me and what you have to
offer, I expect you and your intentions to be as clear as a fucking crystal.”
“Your language is terrible.”
“It’s just goddamn fine for my business. Suck it up, no one’s looking for
your approval. Certainly not me.”
Cat huffed. “Whatever you can find on me legally or even
professionally is who I am, Dante. I rarely, if ever, give people a glimpse
into the real me, but you can trust when I say something, I always mean it. I
never lie unless it’s absolutely necessary. And I follow through on my deals
and promises every single time. Is there more you’d like to question me on
in that regard?”
“We’ll see,” Dante said, his lips drawing thin as he went back to his file.
“Recently turned twenty-eight.”
“Thank you.”
“Any information from Italy about you or your family was difficult to
find.” Dante’s head lifted and he met her gaze, unabashed. “Why is that?”
“My family was quite poor. We lived in what is still considered a small
village miles from the city. Neither my mother nor my sister was born in a
hospital, though I believe they had papers filed later. I left home when I was
nearly sixteen to do my own thing, came into the hands of some interesting
characters, and grew from there.”
“Explain that,” Dante said quietly. “After you left home, I mean.”
The corner of Cat’s mouth lifted into a smirk. “I’m beginning to feel
like this may be the start of a therapy session. I don’t need my head
shrinked.”
“Tell me what I want to know or go, Catrina.”
“Fine.” Cat sat up on the couch, crossing her legs in the process. She
didn’t miss Dante’s stare zoning in on the shape of her thighs beneath her
dress or the heels she wore. “Shortly after I left home, I was working in a
bar under an assumed name, lying about my age. An older gentleman
offered me cash to do work for him and I said yes.”
“What kind of work?” Dante asked.
“Deals, things of that nature. Delivering substance, or whatever, to
certain clients that wanted a pretty face to look at. The better I got at my
job, the more difficult clients were pushed on me. Eventually I had enough
contacts and clients in my book to do my own thing, so that’s exactly what I
did.”
“And that’s where you showed up on the American side again,” Dante
filled in, tapping the paper below him. “You used your dual citizenship to
get you into America at twenty-five.”
Cat grinned. “First time on American soil since I was a baby. It took a
couple of weeks until my contacts from Italy bled over to here with the
people they knew. I had a few men who came with me, and we started from
the ground up all over again.”
“The same men who met me at my brother’s club?”
“Some,” Cat admitted. “I only have five men working under me now.
Only two are men I keep near me. The three others work out of state, supply
certain demands, and always keep me informed as to the market on their
end.”
“Two,” Dante said, raising a brow in disbelief. “There were three at the
cub last week.”
“Yes, well, Carlos pushed his luck and is now at the bottom of a ravine.
Or so Gaetano tells me. What more do you want to know?”
Dante didn’t give a single thing away at Cat’s confession. “You’re fine
with killing men who work for you when you have so few who actually
do?”
“Men like them are easily trained for my purposes. He’ll be replaced in
a month if I want him to be.”
“I see. Moving on, then.”
“Please do, Dante.”
“The information my sources gathered on the down low for Queen is
where it gets interesting,” he said simply.
“It always is.”
“You’re very successful.”
“I am.”
“I want to ask how, but I don’t think I would understand.”
Cat smiled, shrugging. “Our businesses are not the same, you see.”
“I realize that.”
“Then, you should already know why you can’t understand my success.
We may deal in the same kinds of things occasionally, but your family
manages men in the hundreds, your focus is everywhere at once, while
mine only needs to be on the clients.”
Dante sucked in a harsh breath. “Clients, huh?”
“It’s a better title than user, and honestly, I don’t manage addicts well. If
I find a particular client is becoming too demanding of me or the substances
I provide, I drop them without notice or a promise to return. I am successful
because of my persona—this innate ability to be a beautiful ghost in their
world with no name, no connections to their real lives beyond what I bring
to them, and my talent of leaving as quietly as I came. They never have to
worry about me staining their reputations, but I do deliver.”
“You deal in big names,” Dante said.
“Would you like a few?” Cat asked softly.
“I have more than enough from my sources to know you’re very much
sought after in the socialite, high-society, political, and celebrity worlds.”
“Does that intimidate you?”
Dante laughed, the deep sound striking Cat straight in the gut like a
sledgehammer. “No, I find it admirable, actually.”
“Because I’m a woman,” Cat assumed.
“No, because you’re successful at all with people who have enough
money to have any kind of drug dealer they want on speed dial.”
Cat appreciated the fact Dante didn’t dance around what she truly was
beneath her beauty and title. “Yet, they want Queen.”
“They do.” Dante rested back in his chair, the papers in front of him
seemingly forgotten. “How did you come about that name, anyway?”
“Queens are untouchable. Someone thought it fit me and it caught on, I
suppose.”
“Who?”
“It’s not important,” Cat replied, having no desire to explain the family
similar to Dante’s she left behind in Italy.
Thankfully, Dante didn’t push it. Instead, he went in a direction Cat
hadn’t expected at all. “Why do you need a husband, Catrina? Seems to me
settling down as a wife might hinder your ability to gallivant from state to
state like you do, never mind you don’t seem like a woman who wants a
man at your side as a partner.”
“You read people well.”
“I have to. I’m intended to be a boss of a major crime family. My
success depends on my ability to pick people apart, weed through their
bullshit, and cull the weak links before they can hurt me. Answer my
question, regazza.”
“My reasons for needing—not wanting—a marriage is purely selfish
and partly for business security. I want to remain on American soil. This is
where my clients are and where I have built the majority of my name.
Unfortunately, my dual citizenship makes my standing shaky. Should I be
arrested, which is unlikely, or if legal issues arise because of my Queen Pin
status, I will be deported, and I won’t be invited back. A marriage would
insure my stay here no matter what.”
“That all sounds like business to me. Where’s the selfishness come in?”
“Your last name, of course. Not only would it offer me a great deal of
protection, as we’re always amassing enemies in our line of work, but it
would also open up a few layers of new clientele in New York on my end.
I’ve not touched a lot of New York, you see. There’s enough organized
crime here without me causing a ruckus. As a leader’s wife, on the other
hand, no one would say a thing.”
Dante didn’t bat an eye. “Funny, when a woman wants to get close to
me because of my last name, it’s usually because of the money that comes
along with it.”
“I have my own money, bello. I certainly don’t need yours.”
“True.”
“And if I’m honest,” Cat continued with a shrug of her delicate
shoulders, “I’ve had a few close calls over the last year with the officials.
It’s unusual. I need to take a step out of the limelight as the main woman for
a while in my trade and let a few other girls I’ve had under my wing fly on
their own. So yes, more assurance and protection for me.”
Cat could hear the soft pat-pat-pat of his heel stomping to the hardwood
floor beneath his desk. Even if she couldn’t, the way he quieted gave her
every indication Dante Marcello might actually be considering Cat’s offer
of marriage.
“That’s all fine and great,” Dante said, his gaze snapping back to hers in
an instant, “… but what do you actually have to offer me, Catrina?”
“Quite a bit, actually. In the business of importing specific substances
—”
“Coke, you mean.”
“Exactly. I tend to have the upper hand on you, which is obvious
enough by the price I put on the blow in your streets. My contact is a direct
line to the product. I don’t pay nearly as much as you do, it doesn’t go
through as many hands as yours does, and it’s a purer substance at a cheaper
cost. Practically unheard of.”
“True,” Dante mused. “Where is your supplier located?”
“Italy, actually. I never go back now, but it’s one of the few links I’ve
kept.”
“Interesting, but not enough for me to believe it’s worth the price of a
marriage license, Cat.”
“I wouldn’t think so, either.” Cat stood from the couch, pulling a small
four-inch by four-inch leather-bound notebook from her clutch. She tossed
it onto Dante’s desk, hoping his interest would be peaked before he even
opened it. “I also offer power in the form of connections. That book is filled
with them. I’m sure you have your own, but I suggest you take five minutes
to consider mine.”
Dante’s jaw clenched, although he didn’t give a book an ounce of his
attention. “I don’t think your clients would appreciate being blackmailed by
a mafia boss.”
“They’re not all clients. And believe me when I say the ones who are,
wouldn’t be surprised by it. It’s practically second nature for people in my
profession to use who they know for their own gain, even if it’s a little
dirty.”
And for every name on that list that he used, Cat would lose a client. It
was the nature of the beast. She was giving up so much for this, but she
couldn’t tell Dante Marcello that.
Cat knew things would never be the same for Queen, but she didn’t
care. She needed a marriage.
“Power,” Dante murmured.
“I knew you’d like that.”
“How?”
“Because even if we’re different, we’re also the same.”
Dante sighed, eyeing the black book. “Why approach me?”
“I told you last week. I’d heard the oldest Marcello was looking for an
arrangement of the marriage sort. At the time, I wasn’t interested. Now I
am.”
“Fair enough, but that was quite a while ago, and my feelings have
changed on the issue of arranging a marriage for myself.”
“And why is that, Dante?”
“My sister-in-law, my youngest brother’s wife, was obligated to marry a
man she didn’t want and who abused her just for living. I couldn’t be the
man who forced a woman into a marriage for my own gain.”
Cat blinked, astonished at the level of openness and emotion in his
statement. “You think this would be the same thing? I approached you,
Dante. I offered the arrangement to you, and no one is forcing me to do any
of this.”
Dante’s fingers drummed to his desk. “How much information have you
pulled on my family and business?”
“A lot. I needed to know who you were and who they are.”
“So, you know my marriage is compulsory to take over my family.”
“I understand a little about Cosa Nostra, their expectations, and the rules
for the men who join and who lead the families. Yes, I’m aware you need a
wife. It’s precisely why I suspected this deal would be of interest to both
you and me.”
“Not just any particular time, Catrina. Soon. I need one very soon. My
seat is not guaranteed without one, and my father is ready to step down. A
Commission meeting is coming up and I need to fulfill their requirements
or someone else will be chosen for my spot. I can’t allow that to happen.”
Dante nodded at the couch behind Cat. “Sit and we’ll talk more.”
Cat did as he asked. “I have a question for you.”
“Go ahead.”
“What is it about marriage you’re so opposed to?”
Dante’s jade gaze darkened. “What makes you think I’m opposed to it?”
“You’re not the only one whose business requires them to read people.”
“I have little to offer a woman by way of love or a life. In fact, my
entire life is Cosa Nostra, has always been, and will remain so. I have no
interest in finding love, settling a woman down into a world she can’t
control or be a part of, never mind putting her second for my choices.
Because she would be second—always. I think that’s incredibly unfair.
What woman would want a future she can’t be certain of?”
“Yes, and because of that, I think we’re a good match, Dante. I don’t
want a man to love me. I don’t want anything from him beyond business
and mutual gain. I have no interest in settling into the life of a housewife.”
Dante chuckled. “A good match, huh? You’ve made me want to kill you
twice now.”
Cat appreciated his honesty. “I have many effects on men. That is only
one of them.”
“So I’m learning,” Dante said under his breath.
“It’s pretty simple. People like us, we’re not supposed to feel. We don’t
get attached. It ruins us. Together, we’ll be the perfect pair. Together, we
have nothing to lose. I can provide you with the proper wife you need, you
can give me the last name and protection I need to move forward. What’s
the problem?”
“When you put it like that, nothing.”
“The only thing I really ask for is that you treat me as an equal, Dante.
In life and business, that’s all. I have things to offer your syndicates in New
York to make them agreeable if you mix business with me. I won’t seem
diminished standing beside you as I am not the kind of woman who is
intimidated by men. Your father is quite infamous in the Cosa Nostra world,
yes?”
“He is. What about it?” Dante asked.
“Time for you to start making your name, too. What better way than
turning everything your men believe on its top by bringing a woman like
me into play.”
“What else?”
“Pardon?” Cat asked, confused.
“What else would you want from this?”
Chapter Four
Dante surveyed Catrina where she sat on the couch, his keen eye trying
to pick up on any hints she was deceitful or there were ulterior motives
behind her offer. So far, he had yet to find one.
“I don’t understand what you’re asking,” Catrina said. “I’ve told you
everything I want.”
“On a professional level, sure. Not a personal one.”
Catrina coughed, hiding her surprise miserably. “You mean physically
or emotionally, that sort of thing?”
“For starters,” Dante answered.
“I don’t want a relationship with you. I have no interest in fucking you.”
Dante doubted her words, considering the way she looked him over.
Women could only mask their attraction for so long before their disguises
cracked. He wouldn’t deny for a minute that he thought Catrina Danzi was
one of the sexiest goddamn women he’d ever had the pleasure of looking at,
and if she gave him the chance, he would probably take her to bed no
questions asked.
Dante was nothing if not honest.
“I like your bluntness,” Dante told her. Even if she was lying.
“It’s a learned trait. But if you really want to discuss those sorts of
things, we can. Having a physical relationship leads to an emotional one,
regardless if someone intends for it to or not. I don’t want an attachment to
a man I won’t be able to love. I should also add I won’t act as your docile
wife and I have no desire for children, so if you’re expecting that, it won’t
happen.”
“Well, you need to have sex to make babies, don’t you?”
“Things happen, Dante. I’m just saying children won’t be one of them.”
“Doesn’t matter as I can’t have children.”
Catrina’s shoulders tensed. “I beg your pardon?”
“I can’t have children, which is yet another reason why I feel like a
woman would be shortchanged when it came to marrying me. Something
else I couldn’t give her that she might want someday.”
“If I asked what the problem is for you, would you be offended?”
Catrina asked.
“No, I’ll tell you. It’s just not something I openly share with the rest of
the world,” Dante said, sighing. “When I was a little over two-years-old and
my mother was pregnant for Giovanni, my father took our family on a trip
to Italy. Business for my father, as he wouldn’t take a vacation otherwise.
The rules weren’t as strict at the time about ensuring people had the proper
vaccinations before traveling. My mother didn’t believe in vaccinations,
which was her choice and one she regretted when there was an outbreak of
rubella in the villages we were touring.
“I didn’t have my vaccine and was immediately high risk because of my
age, but it was too late,” Dante explained, trying to remain unaffected as he
told the story. It wasn’t often he did tell it because despite how he tried to
move past it, he couldn’t.
“Because they were trying to control the outbreak and the medical
facilities where they quarantined the sick were rudimental at best, it became
a wait and see situation. My mother, being pregnant, was forced to stay
away for the safety of her pregnancy. Rubella can cause termination and
even severe disabilities or deformities. My father remained with me. I got
better, we came home. That’s it.”
“That can’t be it.”
“It is,” Dante said, lifting a shoulder as if to explain away what was
unsaid. “It’s rare for a man to become infertile from rubella, but it happens.
Especially when the outbreak is allowed to roam throughout with no
treatment to prevent it from infecting the southern region of the body. When
my parents got back to the States, they were informed of what might be my
possible prospects. When I was old enough, I had testing done and was
found to be sterile in the thick of puberty. And again in my early twenties, I
got the same results.”
Catrina frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve known for a long time children wouldn’t be a part of my
future. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that’s not something I would
ask from you. Ever.”
“And you have no desire for love,” Catrina said.
“No. As I said, why bring a woman into a life where she will have little
but me, and I don’t have a great deal to give her back. I’m perfectly fine
like this.”
Dante pushed his chair away from the desk, spinning it around so his
back faced Catrina. Usually he wouldn’t turn his back to a woman,
especially one like Catrina Danzi, but she wanted something from him,
which meant she wasn’t liable to hurt him.
The metal, fireproof safe rested on a large stand behind his desk. Dante
spun the dial after typing in a ten digit code on the electronic pad. The quiet
click of tumblers falling into place sounded before the door popped open.
He grabbed a small jewelry box on the top shelf, closing his safe when he
was done.
Turning back to face Catrina who hadn’t moved an inch from her spot,
Dante placed the jewelry box to the very edge of the front of his desk. She
didn’t make a move to touch the box and see what was within.
“Are you Catholic?” Dante asked.
“I am.”
“In good standing?”
“With the church, but God is an entirely different situation.”
Dante let her dark humor soak into him again, laughing loudly.
“For curiosity’s sake, how did you weed your way into my streets as
easily as you did?” Dante asked, folding his arms over his chest as he rested
back in his chair. “Seems to me a Queen Pin of your caliber wouldn’t be
slumming in on the streets to push product. I don’t know how you had the
smarts to get that kind of thing done.”
“Simple, your main men aren’t there nearly enough, certainly not as
hands-on as they should be. That’s not to say they’re not good at their jobs,
because clearly they are if they’re still turning a profit, but they’re missing
people like me slipping in. Their soldiers—or yours, if you prefer—might
have a little too much free rein on certain things.”
“Thank you,” Dante said. “I’d like for you to tell that to my men at the
next tribute meeting as well so they can be aware of their mistakes and
correct the issues.”
Catrina’s brow lifted, a smile staring to form. “Oh?”
“Yes, and I’ll be there, of course.”
“Of course,” she echoed.
“There’s a few other things you should be aware of, too.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact this marriage can’t appear to be some kind of sham,”
Dante said, gesturing between them. “I need us to appear as a solid,
formidable unit in every aspect of public life. Simple as that. We can’t live
apart, I’ll need you at my side for a great deal of things, and even if you
don’t want to act like a mob wife, there are times you’ll have to wear that
mask and do it with a smile.”
“You have extra bedrooms in this condo, don’t you?”
Dante tried not to laugh and failed. “Is that what you’re worried about
in all I just said?”
“Well, yes. Unless you mind sleeping on the couch.”
“There’s an empty room at the very end of this hallway. Pick whatever
you want inside it, and I will fill it for you, Cat.”
Dante leaned forward and opened the jewelry box to showcase a fourcarat square cut diamond set in white gold and encircled in smaller jewels
like a tiny crown. Catrina’s eye caught the piece immediately but she stayed
silent.
“Do not be so surprised that I already have something for you. It’s an
heirloom and it belonged to my mother’s mother. I’ve had it in my
possession ever since my grandmother died a decade ago as she left it to
me. Wearing this will help with the initial disrespect you’re sure to receive
for being a woman in a man’s territory at tribute from my men.”
“I think I can handle them. I unsettle men, remember? Not the other
way around.”
“Like I said, wearing this will help. I’ll accept your offer, Cat.”
Catrina smirked. “I thought you would.”
“High horses don’t look good when a beautiful woman is riding one.
Don’t be so smug just yet.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you still need to meet my mother,” Dante said. “This coming
Sunday seems like the perfect time. Our family always has a large dinner
with several guests. My brothers still stay over occasionally the night
before, but I’ve been too busy with work, so I don’t think that would be a
good time to try and fit it in. I can meet you after church, however, and take
you to dinner with me, if you’d like.”
“I think I could do that,” Cat replied, smiling. “No church for me?”
“One thing at a time, Cat. And privacy is important for my family. I’d
like to introduce you first. Get what I mean?”
“Sure.”
Their conversation continued well into the night. Longer than Dante
realized because he found it easy to talk to this beautiful, intelligent woman.
Shortly after Dante escorted Catrina out of his condo and locked his front
door, he called a familiar number. It was late—too late, really—but Dante
didn’t care.
“Ciao, son,” Antony’s tired, grumbling voice greeted. “For the record,
this is an unacceptable time for you to call.”
“I accepted her offer.”
Antony fell silent. Dante knew his father wouldn’t ask who he was
talking about. He hadn’t even fully discussed Catrina’s offer with his
brothers after her show the week before in Gio’s club. But he immediately
talked to his father.
Sure, things weren’t perfect with Antony, but he was the only man who
would give Dante an unbiased, honest opinion.
“I hoped you would,” Antony finally murmured. “She seems like a good
fit.”
“Maybe. We’ll see. She will be coming to dinner Sunday evening, and
I’ll formally announce it then.”
“Is she coming to church?”
“No, I figured we could do that next Sunday.”
Antony hummed on his end. “I’ll prepare your mother.”
Dante wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. He had only been slightly
kidding with Catrina earlier. Antony didn’t sound like he was joking at all.
•••
“Mamma, I would like you to meet Catrina Danzi. My fiancée.”
Cecelia said nothing and did nothing at her son’s introduction. She
simply stared at Catrina with a sort of disregard that Dante had rarely ever
witnessed from her before. His mother was not a rude woman—pleasantry
and politeness were her middle name. Cecelia Marcello was proper in every
aspect.
Yet, there his mother stood, watching the woman at Dante’s side like
she smelled something bad. He didn’t know what to make of that.
The room was too quiet for Dante’s liking. His brothers milled around
the kitchen island, observing the scene in silence. Jordyn and Kim
continued chopping vegetables, their gazes down on their work. Antony sat
at the table with Johnathan in his lap, holding a teether for his grandson to
chew on.
“Tesoro?” Antony asked.
Cecelia’s lips drew a thin line, fighting to fall into a frown. Still, she
stayed quiet.
“Our family and guests will be coming soon to eat, Cecelia,” Antony
added quieter.
The unspoken words were loud and clear. Whatever issue Dante’s
mother was having with this introduction, she needed to fix it and fast
before the rest of the people showed up.
Dante didn’t have a clue what his mother’s problem was. God knew
when Lucian and Giovanni brought their respective partners home, she took
to them like a moth to a flame. Instantly, she was in love and happy with
Jordyn and Kim. She took no issue with the fact their relationships with her
sons had come about because of dangerous, or even improper circumstance.
She didn’t care that there had been little dating before they were married.
She just … adored them. Took the two women in with a joyful grace and
open arms.
Why wasn’t she doing that for Catrina?
Catrina’s fingers woven with Dante’s tightened briefly, as if she could
sense his discomfort. She remained quiet at his side, waiting for the
matriarch of the Marcellos to speak first. Dante had to give his new
companion credit for her nerves. Cat didn’t blink a lash to show she was
upset over Cecelia’s clear shunning.
It wasn’t as if Dante needed his mother’s permission to marry Catrina,
but her acceptance of his choices would be appreciated. Being Italian for
their family meant more than large dinners, loud gatherings, and Sundays
spent sitting in a pew. They were close and always had been. The last thing
Dante wanted his marriage to do was pull those tight knots his family was
made of apart, especially because of his mother’s disapproval.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice. He needed to marry and soon.
Catrina was the one person who would make that happen for him. She
needed something and so did he. Neither of them coerced the other into the
arrangement. It was all business and would remain that way for as long as
they needed it to.
“Hello,” Cecelia finally said, her voice strained with forced civility.
Catrina smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you,” Cecelia replied tightly, her stony expression unwavering.
The tension in the room only seemed to skyrocket as the two women
watched one another.
Catrina examined the food preparations spread across the counters and
asked, “Would you like another pair of hands to help?”
“No, I think we have it handled just fine without adding another to the
mix. But do explore the house while we wait for the rest of the guests.”
As easily as Cecelia regarded Catrina in disdain, his mother released his
fiancée from her stare with a dismissive grace that spoke volumes without
even saying a word.
Dante stood stunned. His mother’s actions were so out of place. Maybe
not so much for helping in the kitchen, except for the fact that was the very
first thing she invited his brothers’ wives to do.
“Ma,” Dante said, hoping his displeasure and warning was clear.
There wouldn’t be a thing he could do about his mother’s disapproval,
but he couldn’t stand for Cecelia to disrespect Catrina, especially not in
front of others. If people saw his mother treating his future wife in a less
than appropriate way, they would assume Catrina was unsuitable and act the
same toward her.
Catrina shook her head slightly, tugging on Dante’s hand gently to catch
his attention. “It’s fine, Dante. The house is beautiful, and I wanted to see
the property in the back, anyway. Come find me when you’re ready. Okay?”
“Sure.”
Dante waited until he knew Catrina would be out of hearing range
before he rounded on his mother.
“What was that, Ma?” Dante asked, his tone edged sharp like the blade
of a knife.
Cecelia turned to bend down and check her oven, seemingly unbothered
by her son’s anger. “I don’t know what you mean, Dante.”
“That, with Catrina. What in the fuck—”
“Watch it,” Antony muttered darkly, cocking a dark brow in caution.
Dante ignored his father. He was twenty-eight-years-old for Christ’s
sake; he wasn’t going to tread around his father on light feet anymore.
Antony would have to suck it up and deal with it. After all, he was the one
who pushed Dante from his side.
But Dante was surprised as hell that his mother said nothing about foul
language being used in her kitchen. That wasn’t like her at all. When did he
get dropped into the goddamn Twilight Zone?
His brothers and their wives had all but turned into stone, each sporting
a mask of confusion and shock. No doubt they were just as unsure about
Cecelia’s strange manners as Dante was.
Cecelia popped back up, closing the oven door and tossing a dish towel
to the counter. “Have you two picked a date?”
Dante blinked at the complete one-eighty his mother seemed to turn
with that one question. “Seven weeks.”
“So soon,” Cecelia said quietly, giving Antony a look from across the
room that voiced her unhidden displeasure.
Antony wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“There isn’t really a reason for us to hold it off and the sooner, the
better,” Dante said.
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“You’re cutting it terribly close to Lent,” Kim said.
Dante shrugged. “It’s after, so nothing stops the ceremony in that
regard.”
Antony stood before sitting Johnathan in his bouncy chair. “Catholic
doctrine requires six months couple’s counseling before a ceremony can be
performed. You know this.”
“I’ll handle it,” Dante replied.
“How?” Cecelia asked.
“Lucian had his classes nearly tripled weekly to have his wedding when
he wanted.”
“I still did the classes,” Lucian put in.
“And I needed to have my finishing rites before we could even begin
the classes,” Jordyn said.
Dante waved them off. “Giovanni didn’t get married in the church at all
and didn’t have any trouble getting his marriage recognized by the bishop
after you stepped in. It took you what, two weeks to get their marriage
validated in the eyes of the church, Ma?”
Cecelia’s gaze narrowed. “That wasn’t the same and you know it.”
Gio looked like he wanted to skip out of the room and as quickly as
possible. “Keep my marriage out of this.”
“Yes, please,” Kim muttered as she rinsed off diced potatoes.
“I won’t be asking Father Peter to ignore the required counseling,
Dante,” Cecelia said.
Dante shrugged. “I didn’t say you had to. I said I would handle it.”
“And I asked how.”
“In whatever way I want to, Ma. It’s like this, either you want me
married in our church by the man who christened me or you don’t. If you
don’t, then that’s fine. I’ll have the ceremony elsewhere and get a
convalidation of marriage afterward. Honestly, that’d be a hell of a lot
easier, and my marriage to Catrina won’t be any less official by law because
of where it takes place. That’s all I need, Ma, just a marriage certificate and
then everyone else will be satisfied I’ve done what they wanted.”
Cecelia scowled. “Exactly, Dante. Everyone else will be so pleased.”
“Dante has a point, Ma,” Giovanni said. “His marriage can happen
anywhere. And he’s considered devout to the church. His convalidation will
be easily granted with or without your input. I don’t know what you want
—”
“Shush,” Cecelia ordered. “I am aware, but that doesn’t mean I agree.”
“You don’t have to,” Dante said.
“Catrina seems … nice,” Jordyn said softly, shrugging.
“Sure, if you’ve never seen her in action,” Dante replied.
Lucian sighed, eyeing his wife. “Bella mia, Catrina is not your usual
Catholic Italian, despite her accent and seemingly innocent face.”
“So I’ve heard as well,” Cecelia muttered, never taking her gaze off
Dante.
“Is that your problem, Ma?” he asked.
“No. Look at my husband, Dante. Do you truly think that is what would
bother me about her?”
“I don’t understand,” Kim said, giving Gio a look. “What’s wrong with
her?”
“For our kind of family? Not a lot, really. She’s a Queen Pin, so the girl
ought to fit right in at the dinner table without feeling out of place.”
“Gio,” Dante growled.
“Listen, asshole, my priorities don’t include lying to my wife.”
“Seriously?” Jordyn asked, her jaw falling slack. “Like, top of the food
chain drug dealer?”
“Sì,” Antony answered before anyone else could. “She’s a very popular
and successful one in her business because of her higher end clientele.
That’s not to say she doesn’t have people on the streets, because clearly she
does. Which was how she came to Dante’s attention in the first place. At
her age and without a family backing her trade, her accomplishments are
quite a feat.”
Antony flicked his hand in Jordyn and Kim’s direction. “Now, move on
from Catrina’s profession please. We don’t discuss business in the kitchen
inside this home.”
“Sorry,” Kim and Jordyn mumbled together.
“Catrina is a hellish woman that I wouldn’t want to meet in a dark
alley,” Giovanni said, making Lucian chuckle. “But she’s exactly what
Dante needs, both in his private life and business.”
“Let’s disagree on the private life, but I’ll give you the business side of
things,” Dante said.
“Hey, I didn’t say I liked her, man, just that she might work for you.”
“We’re not like that.”
“Would you ever be?” Cecelia asked rather harshly.
Dante scoffed. “That is none of your concern, Ma.”
Antony stepped in to block the glare Cecelia was leveling on Dante.
Placing both his hands to the island countertop, he stared his wife head-on.
“Enough, Cecelia.”
Quietly, Lucian and Giovanni urged their wives out of the kitchen
without a backward glance.
“This is all on you,” Cecelia whispered to her husband. “You did this,
and I am so angry with you for it, Antony.”
“So be it, but you have to step back now, Tesoro.”
“So angry,” she repeated.
“Dante, go find your fiancée and give her our apologies for the
awkwardness and rude behavior,” Antony said without facing his son. “Do
let Catrina know she will be treated with the utmost respect from this point
on … from everyone.”
Whatever was going on between his parents, Dante didn’t want to get in
the middle of it, so he did what his father asked and left the kitchen. It
didn’t take him long to find Catrina. She sat on a couch in the family room
and he joined her.
Dante cleared his throat, unnerved. “I apologize for what happened in
there, Catrina. Cecelia isn’t … that’s not my mother. She doesn’t act like
that. Not usually.”
Catrina shrugged, tilting her head to the side. Her gaze shimmered, full
of mirth. “Oh, I think that’s exactly who your mother is. Not that I mind,
naturally.”
“What?”
“She’s your mamma, Dante. Of course, she isn’t going to approve or be
happy with your choice in marrying me.”
Dante leaned back into the couch and rubbed at his forehead, willing the
ache that was starting up to leave. “You don’t understand. Listen, Cecelia is
typically sweet-natured and polite. She never outright disrespects people,
even the ones she hates. And believe me, there are a few of those.”
“Hmm, no, you clearly don’t understand. Being your mother, she wants
you to be happy.”
“So?”
“So, she knows I don’t make you happy, bello. Not truly. Not in the way
her husband makes her happy, or the way your brothers’ wives make them
happy. There is no love here between you and me, not like they have. I
make her sad for you, and by default, that makes her angry with me.”
Well, shit.
“It really is okay, Dante,” Catrina said with a quiet sigh. “I would
expect nothing different from a woman of Cecelia’s standing. Honestly, I
respect her for it.”
“Cristo, why? That was awful, Cat.”
“Because, she gave me her feelings face up from the start. She didn’t
hide behind a mask or the civilities and courtesies of her raising. I would
prefer to know where I stand with your mother right from the start rather
than wonder only to be stabbed in the back later. Believe me, this is better
and easier for us both.”
Dante groaned when the doorbell to the house rang out. “Great. Let the
hell begin.”
Catrina patted his knee, smirking. “Oh, I think the rest will go much
easier. And I would be willing to bet with others around, your mother will
be a lot less likely to try and take a bite out of me or you. Let’s go. Time to
make face.”
After the food had long been served and Catrina was formally
introduced to the most important Marcello people as Dante’s future wife,
their Sunday dinner guests milled about the home. Dante relaxed with
others around, surprisingly. His family and the friends of the Marcellos
seemed to accept Catrina with little questions asked. Not that it was their
place to.
Leaning against the family room wall, Dante watched the snow fall in
puffy drifts through the large, bay window as he drank from a tumbler half
filled with vodka. He somehow managed not to turn rigid with his
remaining irritation when his mother sidled in beside him.
“I will talk to Father Peter,” Cecelia said.
Dante tipped his glass up to sip the vodka. He wasn’t in the mood to
have another argument with his mother, so he chose to fill his mouth full of
alcohol instead of snapping at her like he first wanted to.
“He should be the one to marry you, I agree.”
“I figured you would, but given the position we’re putting him in with
the shortened timeline and the fact I don’t want a traditional Mass
ceremony, he might refuse and demand the deacon do the service instead.”
“We’re Marcellos. He’s not going to refuse once I speak to him, believe
me.” Cecelia frowned. “And I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”
“Are you really or are you just being polite?” Dante asked.
“You’re my son. It’s not required of me to be polite to you just because,
Dante. You, on the other hand, are required to be respectful to me always.”
Fair enough.
Dante put his anger in check and gave his mother the respect he owed
her. “I know you don’t approve.”
“I don’t. I really, really don’t.”
“I need to do this, Ma,” Dante said, shrugging.
Cecelia nodded in Catrina’s direction. His fiancée stood talking to a
cousin of his in the family room with that sly look of hers. “She doesn’t
fulfill you. You’re not doing it because you want to, but because you need
to. I can’t accept and like a woman who doesn’t give you the kinds of things
you should have. Things you deserve to have.”
“I never wanted to be married in the first place, so no woman is going to
give me that, Ma.”
“Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean you can’t have
love.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“No, you are,” his mother replied, huffing. “I know you feel you have
little to offer someone because you can’t give them certain things, but
children aren’t the only thing in a marriage, Dante. I loved your father long
before I ever considered having you.”
“But you still wanted children,” Dante pointed out firmly. “Deny it,
Ma.”
“Not every woman wants children. Not every woman feels like she has
to have them to be satisfied.”
“Thank you.”
Cecelia’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
“Without me needing to explain why the arrangement between Catrina
and I was made and will work, you just did. So, thank you.”
“I—”
“Catrina is the kind of woman who doesn’t want children, therefore, I’m
not denying her anything in that regard. She doesn’t want attachments
creating emotions to weigh her down. Neither of us need love in our
agreement to hold us back. Our business intermingles in a way that we
believe can succeed. She works for me and what I need right now.
“Besides, children have little to do with why I never wanted to marry. It
was only one point,” Dante added.
“She’s going to be your wife, Dante.”
“She’s wearing your mother’s engagement ring. I’m aware she’s going
to be my wife,” he replied drily, tilting up his glass again for another drink.
“Yes, I can see that. The ring does suit her well, even if I don’t like that
she’s wearing it. If she isn’t going to be filling certain parts in your life, like
your bed for example, who will?”
Dante nearly choked on the drink of vodka in his mouth. Forcing the
urge to cough away, he shook his head. Cecelia believed sex should happen
only within the sanctity of marriage. Obviously her sons didn’t agree with
that choice. Dante knew his mother wasn’t ignorant to her sons’ actions in
that regard, but she rarely discussed it with them. She didn’t approve and
they didn’t care. It was easier to leave the issue alone and not fight about it.
Evidently his mother had dropped that pretense with a bang.
Merda. Dante did not want to talk about sex with his mother.
“Ma, Dio mio! Stop it.”
“I know it’s not my business.”
“No, my intimate life most certainly is not.”
“I believe in total devotion and commitment to only the partner you
choose, Dante. And I have little trust for those who don’t. If your father had
run around on me even once in our marriage, I would have kicked him out
on his ass and kept everything he had, including his sons. I raised you three
boys—”
“I know how you raised me. I’m faithful, Mamma. Drop it.”
“Will you always be? Is that another piece of your life you have to give
up in this façade to please your father and la famiglia? Because I know you
too well, my boy. You are not the kind of man who would force a woman
into something she wasn’t willing to give you.”
“Drop it,” he repeated angrier.
“Fine. Gosh, you get so worked up over this.” Cecelia sighed, her gaze
drifting to Catrina once more. “She is very beautiful.”
Dante laughed. “It’s how she’s managed to do so well in her line of
business, I think.”
“I don’t doubt it for a minute. Doe-eyed women have that effect on
stupid men.”
“It will be fine, Ma. It’s my choice, and this is what I want. I know you
think it’s all about Cosa Nostra and Papà, but it’s more than that. This is my
life, and to get where I want to be and to achieve the things I need, I have to
do this. For Catrina and I, there’s no third party here forcing it on us. We
decided and I’m okay with it.”
“I still don’t approve.”
“You don’t have to,” Dante reminded her softly.
“But you want me to, yes?”
Yes.
Dante wouldn’t admit it out loud, though. He wanted his mother to, at
the very least, find a mutual respect with his future wife if she couldn’t
manage to like Catrina personally. But he wanted Cecelia to do it on her
own and not because he told her to. “Go find Gio and annoy him for a
second grandbaby, huh? It’s always funny to watch him get prickly over it.”
Cecelia patted his arm lightly, smiling widely. “I think that’s just what
I’ll do. Something to make this awful day a bit brighter, anyway.”
With his mother gone, Dante focused his attention on Catrina once
more. She had moved on to another guest at the dinner. Her coy grins and
quiet giggles reminded him that Catrina was always on. It didn’t matter
where she was or what might be happening around her. The girl didn’t
know how to turn the queen off.
She knew how to wear a mask.
Yes, Catrina was precisely what Dante needed in a wife if he was going
to have one at all.
Chapter Five
Gaetano and Pao flanked Cat on either side as she walked into the club
that was closed for business in the daytime hours.
Well, closed for regular business, anyway.
The moment Cat appeared around the corner with her men in tow, the
nineteen—she asked ahead of time of how many men to expect at the
tribute—Marcello capos and their boss fell silent. While the others wore
masks of shock and confusion, Dante simply offered his fiancée a smile and
his hand when she came to stand at his side.
“How was your morning, dolcezza?” he asked.
“Good. Yours?”
“Long.”
“We have that meeting with Father Peter tonight,” Cat reminded him.
“I’ll be there. Worry not.”
Dante urged Cat to turn so they faced the gawking, speechless crowd
who had watched their entire exchange. Cat thought, by gazing over some
of the faces, she had met a few of the men at the Marcello mansion for
Sunday dinner two weeks earlier. A lot of them were still unknown.
“Gae, Pao, go find a seat somewhere,” Cat said, dismissing her men
with a flick of her wrist.
They did as she asked without question, earning a few snickers from the
peanut gallery. Oh, this was sure to be fun if the nonsense was starting
already.
“Afternoon, gentlemen,” Cat greeted. “I’m sure most of you know who
I am by now through rumors, but we’ll get better acquainted over the course
of the day.”
Lucian stood from the table. “Dante, what—”
“I invited her, Lucian,” Dante interrupted coolly. “I expect that every
man in this room will treat her with the utmost respect she deserves not
only for her success as a Queen Pin, but as my fiancée.”
“You could have given me some warning,” Lucian spat
“Would you have argued with me about it?” Dante asked.
“Yes.”
“Exactly. Sit down and shut up with the rest of the men, brother.”
Lucian’s jaw fell slack, making Cat laugh under her breath. The sound
caught the attention of several men around her but she ignored all their
curious, and some annoyed, stares.
“Antony would never have stood for this,” another man growled.
Dante shrugged. “Antony isn’t me and he isn’t here. Look the fuck
around, guys. Neither is Paulie. It’s just me here. We all know what that
means. It’s pretty fucking simple. I get to make all the calls. I’m the
goddamn boss. And if you don’t like that, take a walk. You won’t be invited
back, but there’s a grave with your name on it if you do.”
“A woman in business really sets you boys off, doesn’t it?” Cat asked.
None of the men said a thing.
Dante smirked. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard them so quiet. This should
be an easy, quick meeting.”
Giovanni glared at the end of the booth. Cat was surprised even her
future brothers-in-law were making a fuss, but she suspected Dante hadn’t
prepared them for her presence today. It was a smart tactic to take people
off guard and set them on their asses. It looked good on them.
“This is ridiculous,” Giovanni said. “We don’t involve women.”
“She’s not involved like you think,” Dante replied, brushing his brother
off. “She’s here for a couple of reasons, but mostly importantly, because she
is going to be my wife and our business may overlap at times. There are
certain aspects she needs to have a say in now.”
“Women don’t get—”
“Women can do anything a man can do,” Cat interjected sweetly,
waving her fingers in the direction of the man in particular who had spoken
up. “And I must say, I don’t think you could wear the heels I do when you
did it.”
A few chuckles passed around the room. Cat took that as a good sign.
She just needed these men to open up to the idea of including her, and like
the wolf she was, she would go straight for the kill. They weren’t her men,
sure, but if she was going to be working alongside her future husband at
times, these fools needed to respect her.
“First off, Gio and Val, you were the two with the coke issues,” Dante
said, lifting his frame onto the table to sit beside Cat. His hand found her
knee in a silent gesture of what Cat assumed was either approval or support.
She didn’t need either from him, but it was nice to have nonetheless. “Cat is
here to explain exactly why those issues happened. I think you might want
to listen to what she has to say so you can get on your guys and remedy
their fucking nonsense before I have to go out and do it.”
“We had those issues because she put a lower priced product into our
streets,” Giovanni said, shaking his head in frustration. “What more is there
to say other than she ripped us off?”
“Maybe you’re slipping in your streets, Gio,” a man across from the
youngest Marcello said.
“Maybe I should cut your fucking tongue out and feed it to Cain, Leo,”
Giovanni hissed.
“Hey, I’m just saying … when a man is allowed to bend a few rules, he
gets a big head and I’m not talking about the one between your legs, either.
Skip’s not the big dog he once was, you know. And all for a little pussy,
too.”
“Watch your fucking mouth!”
Dante’s teeth grinded beneath his clenching jaw. “Cristo, you idiots! It’s
like fucking children dealing with the likes of you. If you two don’t correct
whatever bullshit you’ve got going on, I will do it for you. Is that
understood?”
Giovanni continued staring down Leo across the table, “Yeah.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, boss,” Giovanni corrected, shooting his older brother with an
apologetic wince.
“Leo?” Dante demanded.
“Everything’s just fine, boss.”
“I’m not doing this shit again next month. I’m fucking serious. You two
are getting to be downright shameful with your bickering. This is not how
made men act toward one another. Fix it and fast.”
Cat surveyed the entire scene in silence, catching on quickly that there
was more to the issue here that just the surface. She was curious, but not
enough to ask Dante what had happened between the men. It wasn’t a good
time.
“Let’s try this again,” Dante muttered, gesturing at Cat. “She’s going to
explain why she was able to slip into your streets as easily as she did. Not to
mention, I think you would all benefit in knowing how her product
overtook yours with barely any effort on her part at all.”
Ignoring the disinterested grumbles from the men, Cat tapped the heel
of her pumps to the leg of the table to gain their attention on her. Crossing
her legs and shifting on the top to straighten her back, she sighed.
“It has nothing and everything to do with the capos of the crews at the
same time,” Cat said quietly. “I know that must be confusing to the likes of
you, since you all believe this is the only thing you’re good at, which
maybe it is. Who am I to say? The problem is, people like me are just a
little bit better.”
Cat flashed her teeth, smiling wickedly. “Was it anyone’s fault I was
able to offer the same product, at a better quality no less, for a lower cost?
Absolutely not. It was only one of the reasons we were able to push the
blow hard and work it into the user’s hand until yours was pushed right out.
I took three men out of my main crew, gave them access to the product and
streets, and let them go.
“That wasn’t even the easy part,” Cat continued. “The easiest part was
messing with your … what do you call them, Dante? Soldiers, is it?”
“Yes, soldati,” Dante confirmed.
Cat turned back to the men, shrugging. “Yes, them. See, most of those
thugs you have dealing are just out there feeding their own addiction
alongside trying to get their faces known to their bosses. And addiction
brings desperation. At the point they realized they could still sell yours even
if it wasn’t selling well, make just enough money to feed their habit
elsewhere on a cheaper product, that’s exactly what they were doing. I bet it
was terribly hard to pull information from them at first about who was
encroaching on their territory, wasn’t it?”
No one answered. Cat didn’t need them to.
“Some probably even lied, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Inevitably, their
customers began weeding their way over to my men as well. It didn’t take
long after that for us to catch your attention, which was exactly the point of
the entire thing. My suggestion to all of you is that you begin culling the
weak links on your streets. Find people who enjoy the game—money is
what those people want, not the drug. It won’t be hard as far as that goes.
Once you do that, you’ll take back control.”
“Our streets have always been well managed,” a man sitting beside
Giovanni stated, aggravation setting his features hard.
“Until someone like me stepped into them,” Cat replied. “I was simply
the first.”
“She won’t be the last,” Dante added. “I don’t want to see this issue
come up again, and I don’t want a bunch of addict riddled users ruining the
rules we’ve created and the respect we’ve earned on our streets with their
mess. Does everybody understand that?”
Quiet confirmations rang out around the room.
“There’s one more thing I brought my beautiful fiancée in for today,”
Dante informed, stepping down from the table. Cat stayed where she sat,
content in her place above the men. She usually was, anyway. “From here
on out, Cat controls your import and supply of blow. If you need something
on that end, take it to her or one of her men. They have a decent connection
and you’ve already seen what their product can do.”
Silence answered Dante back, but only for a short while. Loud, angry
refusals filled the club’s floor. Indignant and frustrated over a woman being
given any sort of power. Cat didn’t hold back her amusement for a minute.
Men, they were all the same.
Sliding off the table, Cat patted Dante on the cheek and gave him a
wink.
“Have fun, bello. I have no desire to play shouting games with stupid
men today, and you’re their boss, not me. I think I’ll go cure my new
headache with a drink.”
“Get me one, too.”
Cat laughed. “Whiskey, neat. I remember. Make sure they’re all good,
compliant little sheep when I get back.”
Dante grinned a sexy sight that could make a woman wet. Cat was no
exception.
“Will do,” he murmured.
•••
“What do you think?” Cat asked her soon-to-be sisters-in-law.
“Oh, I definitely like that blush cream,” Jordyn said as Cat held up
another swath of material. “It looks great on Cecelia’s walls.”
“I agree,” Kim replied.
Cat sighed, comparing the colors with the natural earthy tones of the
Marcello mansion walls in the kitchen. The color swaths were her choices
for the wedding and reception decorations. Cat wasn’t doing the organizing
herself, as Dante hired her two event planners, but she did have to give the
okay on most things.
She needed to see the blocks of fabric against a couple of more rooms,
but Cecelia Marcello was nothing if not particular. Cat had come to learn
that over the last few weeks spending time with the family. The woman
liked things, mostly her own, to be similar. Her design styles reflected that.
“I like it,” Cat finally said. “I’ll check the common room as well, but I
think it’s a done deal.”
Spinning on her heel, Jordyn held out a small dish of food for Cat to
take. “Here, try these. Pick which ones you like, and we’ll put it on the
menu. Kim’s finishing up the dessert selections.”
Cat took the offering. “Thanks.”
Sitting down at the table across the room, Cat went to work trying the
different manicotti dishes the girls had prepared. The reception she and
Dante planned wasn’t intended to be a huge affair, but there would be a
decent amount of people. They deserved to be fed and well, for that matter.
“Sexy or straight-laced for your dress?” Kim asked, tossing a wink over
her shoulder at Cat.
Cat laughed right along with Jordyn at Kim’s teasing leer.
“What did you two go with?”
“Our wedding was in front of the entire congregation on a Sunday
morning and Father Peter made it clear I was to dress appropriately,” Jordyn
said. “Lucian acted like he didn’t care, but I think he didn’t want to push
anyone’s buttons. A fun sucker, that’s what he is.”
Cat snorted derisively. “I’ll wear what I please. The church is too strict
on those sorts of things, anyway.”
“And yet, we still go,” Kim muttered. “I didn’t have a wedding dress. I
wore jeans and his jacket. We eloped.”
“Oh,” Cat said, sinking into her chair. “I didn’t know that.”
Kim shrugged. “It was fine for us—perfect, really. Giovanni doesn’t
like people making a big fuss about him.”
Jordyn poked her sister-in-law in the side. “That is not why you two
married in a Vegas ceremony.”
That fact, Cat did know a little bit about. “You were arranged to marry
someone else, yes?”
Kim turned to face Cat, smiling sadly. “I was, but Giovanni stepped in
and I couldn’t follow through with the wedding. Not that I wanted to in the
first place. I’m giving the clean version, but that’s only because it’s easier
than explaining the whole story.”
Cat grinned. “I don’t mind a little filth.”
Jordyn cracked up. “You’re going to fit right in.”
“I try.” Cat flashed her Queen tattoo, making the girls laugh all over
again. Something about her profession amused the two women. All Cat
understood was that they thought she looked too innocent and pretty to be a
drug dealer. Once they calmed, Cat said, “Seriously, tell me what happened
that caused the Vegas ceremony.”
Kim sobered, shooting Jordyn a glance. Jordyn simply shrugged her
shoulders in response.
“Fine,” Kim said. “I was involved with Gio while engaged to another
made man.”
“And they found out?”
“Yes. We just don’t talk a lot about it. Gio’s taken a lot of shit for it on
the business side of things with the other capos, I guess. He brushes it off,
but …”
“You know it bothers him,” Cat filled in.
“Kind of.”
The snarkiness she’d witnessed two weeks ago at the tribute meeting
between Giovanni and his comrades made a lot more sense. His foundation
of respect had suffered a hit. Cat sympathized for Giovanni, but she didn’t
understand his situation as she had never been put in a similar one.
“Reputation is everything to men like them, Kim. He’ll get it back,
eventually.”
“I hope so,” Kim replied quietly.
Watching the two girls flip through a bridal magazine and chat about the
different dresses at the island was enlightening for Cat. Mostly because she
and women didn’t mix well, yet she found herself strangely drawn to these
two women like maybe they could be friends.
Or hell, maybe they already were.
Well, Cat supposed if she was going to make nice with any women,
she’d want it to be the Marcello bunch. They had to be made of some kind
of toughness to marry the men they had. Jordyn and Kim held their own just
fine, too. Cat respected that more than the two women could possibly
understand.
“Could I interrupt?”
The voice of Cecelia Marcello made Cat uneasy instantly. The two had
little interaction beyond a couple of Sunday Masses at church and the
dinners that followed. Cecelia had followed through with her promise of
talking to Father Peter, something Dante had filled Cat in on. Really, Cat
was shocked the woman offered her home for the wedding reception and
dinner seeing as how she blatantly disapproved of Cat.
“Sure,” Cat said, waving at the food in front of her. “We were just
finishing up some food selection and color picks.”
Cecelia peered over the swaths of fabric on the table. “I like that cream
with the pink tone.”
“Catrina did, too,” Jordyn added.
“Yes, she does seem to have good taste,” Cecelia said offhandedly.
Cat took that as a compliment, even if it had been directed past her, as if
she wasn’t even in the room. Regardless of how much it annoyed her that
Cecelia didn’t like her very much, Cat offered the woman the respect she
deserved.
“I wanted to ask if anyone knew what the boys were doing for their
birthday coming up,” Cecelia said. “Lucian and Dante usually do something
together, but no one’s mentioned a thing to me.”
Dante didn’t want to have a party. Cat decided to play her knowledge
off. “Dante hasn’t mentioned anything to me.”
“Jordyn?” Cecelia asked, turning to her daughter-in-law. “What about
Lucian?”
“Lucian said there was too much going on with the wedding and—”
“That doesn’t matter to me,” Cecelia interrupted softly. “I’ve always
celebrated their birthdays in some way.”
Cat cringed internally. While she understood Dante’s reasoning for not
wanting to have a party or whatever, Cat would not give his mother more
ammo to hate her with.
“Give me five minutes,” Cat said, standing from the table.
Cecelia nodded, but her mouth drew thin.
Cat was already dialing Dante’s cell number as she walked out of the
kitchen. By the time she reached a more private area, her fiancé picked up
her call.
“Ciao, Catrina,” Dante greeted, ever the gentleman.
“Are you busy?”
“Kind of. Looking at property contracts. Work, but the real kind.”
“My work is real,” Cat snapped.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t, Amore.”
Cat softened at his casual use of a pet name. He had started that
nonsense without warning and the first time, it took her off guard. Dante
could be a sweet man when he wanted to be. Sometimes, that made her
attraction to him a lot harder to ignore.
Actually, she was barely able to ignore it at all.
“Your birthday is in three weeks, right?” she asked.
“From Saturday,” Dante answered.
“You’re breaking your mother’s heart by not having a party. You can’t
do that, Dante. Have a damn party so she can celebrate you like she always
has.”
Dante fell silent, but it didn’t last long. “There’s a lot going on right
now.”
“How many clubs does Giovanni own?”
“A few.”
“Surely he can open one up for the night. I’ll have something catered in;
let me know the address when you know which club. Invite people, or
whatever it is you men do. Dio, you should make that woman happy by
feeding her whims, especially right now.”
“I didn’t want a party, Cat.”
“Oh, well,” Cat replied. “Your mother does.”
•••
“Catrina Danzi.”
Cat turned at the unknown male voice, meeting a man at least her age
with dark hair and brown eyes. A smirk seemed to be tugging at the corner
of his mouth as he stared her up and down, his gaze lingering far too long
on her chest.
A shudder crawled up her spine and not in a good way.
“I can’t say I know your name,” Cat said, refusing to let a man make her
feel uncomfortable. “I never forget a name, certainly not a man’s if he’s
done business with me. What can I do for you?”
The man grinned. “They said it was you, but I couldn’t be sure. Dante’s
birthday party seemed like a safe place to see if the rumors were true.
Apparently, they are. If I hadn’t seen you with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t
have believed it. A little Queen Pin, imagine that.”
Cat bristled. “Little? That’s offensive.”
His hands flew into the air. “My apologies. I also heard you were quick
to anger.”
Cat was done playing word games with this man. “Who are you?”
“Matteo Calabrese, though most people just call me Matty.”
A fellow New York family. Their leader’s son, actually. Cat recognized
his name from discussing surrounding territories with her men before she
went in on Dante’s streets.
Well … merda.
Cat retracted her claws, despite the creepy vibe the guy gave off. She
couldn’t shame her future husband at his birthday party by ripping a new
asshole into this … Matty.
Matty sidled up beside Cat at the bar, pushing his frame onto a stool.
“Can I buy you a drink, bellissima?”
“I would suggest you don’t call me sweet names,” Cat warned. “Dante
won’t like it if he hears it, and truthfully, I don’t like to be treated as though
calling me beautiful will make me melt into a quivering pile of estrogen. It
won’t, but it will earn you one less ball between your legs.”
Matty howled as if she were joking with him.
Cat wished she was.
“Touchy. A drink?” he asked again.
As it were, she’d already slammed back a half of a dozen and she could
feel the effects of the apple martinis. She probably should have laid off at
the second, but they were her weakness in a club when she wasn’t working.
“No, thank you.”
Matty leaned over in his seat, close enough to Cat that she could feel his
breath on her cheek. “What did he promise you to get you into his bed,
hmm?”
“Excuse—”
“Matty, long time no see.”
The Calabrese man wasted no time moving away from Cat at Dante’s
heavy laden greeting. There was a heat behind his tone. Definitely a
warning. Cat met Dante’s intense gaze just long enough to know he was
pissed.
Without any warning, Dante leaned into Cat, placing both his hands to
the bar on either side of her. The scent of whiskey and cigar smoke mingled
with the aroma of his cologne. Cat’s blood heated at his proximity alone,
the air in her chest sticking to her lungs like tar. The closer Dante came to
Cat, the more motionless she turned. His nose skimmed her cheekbone as
his mouth came to the shell of her ear.
Shivers trailed along her skin as she exhaled shakily. There had not been
a man who woke up Cat’s desire like Dante Marcello did in a long time.
She didn’t have the first clue about how she was supposed to ignore a lust
that burned as hot as hers could for him. Sometimes it stayed dormant,
especially when Dante was stubborn and difficult. Other times, like now or
when she least expected it to, it slammed into her like a tsunami of raw
need.
Goddamn, she had picked the wrong man to put a no physical rule on
and marry at the same time. Cat should have known that from the first
moment she met Dante as her tricks didn’t faze him and because he
challenged her so blatantly.
Men never challenged Cat once they knew her.
Dante did.
What on earth was he doing?
What was wrong with her?
“Play along, bella,” Dante whispered. “I want my position with you
clear so he doesn’t run his mouth back to his father that my wife is simply a
hired bride. It may make my marriage look like a façade to the
Commission. I don’t want that assumption out there.”
Cat nodded imperceptibly, swallowing hard at the sensation of his lips
ghosting along the shell of her ear.
There was no time for Cat to react before Dante’s mouth was on hers.
The kiss was anything but sweet and certainly not gentle; Cat didn’t mind.
Her eyes flew wide at the taste of whiskey bursting along her taste buds
when Dante’s tongue struck against hers. His teeth scraped to her bottom
lip, tearing a piece of her carefully constructed wall of control down. A
sweet sting brushed along her lips and chin from his stubble.
Cat couldn’t breathe and she wasn’t entirely sure how long he kissed her
for. Long enough for her fingers to fist into his dress shirt and pull him
closer; long enough for his hands to leave the bar and find her waist,
holding tight; and long enough for Cat to forget that the only reason he was
kissing her was because of the man sitting beside them.
That feeling only lasted until Matty cleared his throat loudly, breaking
the trance Cat was in. Finally, Dante began to pull away, an arrogant smirk
twisting his lips and approval glimmering in his gaze. He didn’t let go of
Cat as he canted his head to regard Matty.
“Happy birthday, old friend,” Matty said, smiling almost sardonically.
Dante’s cold expression didn’t change. “I didn’t realize you were
invited to the party.”
“It was an open invitation, wasn’t it?”
“Sure, but for the Marcello clan.” Dante stood straight, released his hold
on Cat’s waist, and stepped to her side. He turned his back to her as if to
block her from Matty’s view. “Where is your wife tonight, Matty?”
“At home.”
“Too bad. She might have enjoyed a night out with her husband. Then
again, if she had seen you talking to my fiancée like you just were, I bet she
wouldn’t have been pleased.”
Cat snickered into her hand. Dante didn’t bother to beat around the
bush. She had to admit she liked that about the man.
“I was just having fun, Dante.”
“Catrina doesn’t have fun with any other man but me.”
Matty laughed. “That’s not what I hear. She just gave a pretty damn
good show. The little queen over there has quite a reputa—”
His words were gut off with a thick humfp sound as he was knocked
from his barstool. Cat hadn’t even seen Dante’s hand fly up to hit the man
until his arm was lowering back to his side. Matty managed to keep his
balance enough that he didn’t hit the floor. Unfortunate as that was. Cat
would have liked to see him kiss the ground at Dante’s leather shoes.
Dante took the man’s barstool without a word, smiling with enough
scorn to mock the man below him. Matty stood straight and fixed his slacks,
glaring. “You should wish Lucian a happy birthday, Matty. He’d appreciate
it. And my future wife would love for you to get away from her. Tell your
father I said hello.”
With another glower tossed in Dante’s unbothered direction, the man
left. Dante sighed, his frustration showing.
“That man is always causing some kind of trouble. His father, Carl, lets
him and his other brother do whatever the hell they want. It isn’t often we
welcome them as we don’t need to.”
Cat placed her clenched hands in her lap, willing away the strange
aftereffects lingering from the kiss. Like the fact her back ached as if he had
fucked her against a wall and there was a pulse beating between her thighs,
demanding more.
“Why is that?” Cat asked, tampering the lust in her voice.
“Because we have a great deal more power than the Calabrese family in
New York. They know it and wisely choose to bend to our control.” Dante
slid off the stool, offering his hand for Cat to take. “Come, dance with me
for a little while. That asshole isn’t the only one in the room tonight who
has been running his mouth. Might as well give the gawkers a good show.”
“Dance?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you can’t dance, Amore.”
“I can,” Cat said. She didn’t know if it was such a good idea right now.
“Can you?”
Dante scoffed. “That’s just rude. Come on, Cat.”
Cat took his hand and let him pulled her off the barstool.
Dante could dance, quite well, actually. He liked to lead and she didn’t
mind letting him. Cat shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was that he
moved with her swaying body in perfect harmony. The man seemed to be
damn good at everything else he did, so why not this, too? With her
backside tight against his groin, their hips grinding to the fast pace beat of
the music, his hands roamed her curves with an affectionate touch.
What the feeling of his hands left behind, however, was anything but
tender. Cat’s skin burned, desire lighting a wicked fire. She could still taste
the remnants of his kiss and feel how his lips felt pressed to her mouth.
She was wading into dangerous territory.
Dante’s voice in her ear as his lips kissed her jaw softly broke her
thoughts. “Thank you for playing along earlier. And for this, I suppose.”
Cat nodded in response, but she needed to get away from him. To think,
maybe breathe. She wasn’t sure. Even if every inch of her body was
screaming for her to stay, she couldn’t. Making an attachment with this
man, even a physical one, would be bad for them both.
It would only hurt him.
Somehow, Dante seemed to sense her inner war. He stepped away from
her, spinning her around so she could face him. His dark eyebrow lifted,
waiting for her to speak or explain why she had gone so rigid in his arms.
Or, that’s what Cat suspected he was thinking.
“I should go,” Cat said quietly, her words disappearing into the loud
music. “I have—”
“Don’t make excuses,” Dante interrupted firmly. “I get it. We made an
agreement, so let’s keep it. I’ll see you at church on Sunday, Catrina.”
Cat was thankful for his bluntness once again.
“Sunday.”
It didn’t take Cat long at all to find her way out of the club. The fresh,
cold air of the parking lot seared into her lungs. Quickly, she found her car,
got inside and slumped against the driver’s seat the moment the door closed
and offered her privacy.
Being alone did nothing to calm the raging storm in her body. The ache
was still present; the want crashed in her chest along with her racing heart.
Pressing her thighs together, she willed away the urge to feel something
there to subdue the throbbing. It didn’t help. Her sex was clenching,
needing pressure as her clit pulsed.
Before Cat understood what she was doing, her own hand was between
her legs, dipping under the white lace thong she wore to find the relief she
craved. The moment the tips of her fingers came in contact with her
sensitive folds, Cat jerked in the seat, air rushing out of her lungs painfully
hard.
She slipped her fingers lower, spreading the lips of her sex to find her
slit soaked with her silky fluids. With the heel of her palm pressing roughly
to her clit, Cat plunged two fingers into her pussy. The walls of her sex
hugged her digits, more proof of her want taunting her. It wasn’t enough,
not nearly enough, but the fast beat of her fingers fucking her own pussy
offered a little relief to let her breathe again.
The peak didn’t come, not like she wanted it to. Certainly not as fast as
she needed it to. Adding a third finger didn’t help. Curling her digits to
stimulate her G-spot only caused her wetness to gush, but it didn’t throw
her over the edge of the orgasm clawing around her senses.
Cat whined, slamming her back into the seat, desperately craving
release to make her need disappear. Her one hand pushed against the
steering wheel for support she didn’t even need. Loud, echoing cries
shredded their way past her trembling lips. Christ, she was so fucking close.
So close. It was only when she thought of Dante’s mouth on hers, imagined
it was his fingers stroking inside her sex that her mind and nerves finally
succumbed to the inevitable bliss.
Minutes passed as Cat calmed, withdrawing her shaking hand from
between her legs and fixing her dress. She wasn’t sure how long she sat like
that, but she wasn’t all too worried about anyone seeing her slip in control
considering the windows on her new car—a gift from her husband-to-be—
were tinted so dark they were illegal.
A two knuckle rap on the passenger window made Cat jump, a shriek of
surprise catching in her throat. Turning the car on, she rolled down the
window. Gaetano’s familiar form came into view as he rested his arms
across the window and leaned in the car.
Without a doubt, Cat knew the man could smell the scent of her arousal
still floating in the car, but he didn’t say a thing. Gaetano wouldn’t—not
being who he was. The man didn’t judge and Cat adored him for it.
“Pao and I are going to catch that flight tomorrow morning to get things
settled with the clientele down in LA for a little while. You going to be
okay here without us?”
“Are you seriously asking me that, Gae?”
“You’re off your game if you’re letting a man get in your head, Cat.”
“He’s not in my head,” she barked.
“Really? That was quite a show in there, regina,” Gaetano drawled.
“And you’re looking mighty hot and bothered right now.”
“Don’t start.”
“You like him.”
Cat wet her lips. “I do.”
“Well, remember who you’re doing this for in the first damn place,
Queen. You can’t let your heart fuck up what your head already knows.”
“I’m aware.”
“I hope so. I suppose I won’t see you again for a few months after the
wedding, huh?” Gaetano asked, chuckling.
“Something like that.”
“Three more weeks and you’ll be a married woman. Never thought I’d
see the day.”
“Technically, you won’t.”
“Good. I think it’d give me a goddamn heart attack from the shock.”
Cat sighed, turning off the car. “Call me a cab, Gae.”
“Why?”
“I’m a little drunk.”
Chapter Six
“You don’t have to do this,” Lucian said, keeping his voice down so the
rest of their family across the room couldn’t hear.
Dante shrugged, fixing his cream colored tie in the mirror. “Don’t I?”
“Okay, let me rephrase that. You shouldn’t have to marry a woman you
don’t love just for the sake of Cosa Nostra, Dante.”
“You’re becoming awfully soft in the heart ever since you married
Jordyn, brother.”
“I am not. I could still shove my foot up your ass if I wanted. I’ve
simply grown up from that nonsense.” The edge of Lucian’s mouth curved
into a wicked smirk. “Nice try. Deflection won’t work with me.”
“We both know I have to do this,” Dante murmured, meeting his
brother’s gaze in the reflection of the glass.
“What if …”
“What if what?”
“What if I were to stand in for you at the Commission. Until you were
ready—completely ready.”
“If you mean until I find a woman I love, that’s probably never going to
happen. Love makes shit complicated and that’s something I don’t need
right now. Besides, you don’t want to be Don, Lucian. How is making you
stand in for me any different than me marrying Catrina to ensure my
standing in la famiglia?”
Lucian didn’t answer and Dante caught himself wondering if his older
brother’s opinion had changed on being the leader of their crime family. If it
had, that would only lead to problems for them both. Bloody ones. Nobody
wanted that issue.
“Lucian, I asked a question. I would like an answer.”
“It’s not, you’re right.”
“Everyone but Dad keeps telling me I don’t have to do this,” Dante said,
sighing. He went about pulling on his tux jacket and doing up the buttons.
“Because we don’t want you to be unhappy,” Lucian replied.
“I’m aware. My problem is you’re also assuming I don’t want to.”
Lucian turned stiff. “You want to get married?”
“I want to be Don. I need to be married to get there. So, I’ve found a
woman who wants a similar goal to mine, can be of use to me without
causing me too many problems, and one who doesn’t need emotional
nonsense from me to keep her happy. Also, she makes me want to kill her
and fuck her at the same time. It’s entertaining, if nothing else.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Lucian mumbled under his breath.
“But we’re not like that,” Dante added, shrugging like it didn’t make a
difference. Inside, he knew it was a lie. Ignoring how attracted he was to
Catrina had become nearly impossible, but he managed. “Yes, I want to
marry Catrina. She’s the best option for my situation and requirements. I’m
the best for hers.”
Lucian blinked, his surprise flitting over his gaze. “Okay, then.”
“Good. I’m glad we got that cleared up.” Dante glanced over his
shoulder, seeing the rest of his family, minus Gio and Lucian’s wives, were
waiting to leave for the church. “Let’s get me married.”
•••
Dante was astounded at how large their church looked when it wasn’t
filled to the brim with parishioners. Out of the many rows of pews, only the
first few on both sides of the aisle were filled with guests to the small
wedding.
Lucian’s wedding had been massive. Giovanni didn’t have one at all and
refused to let his mother throw a celebration party afterward. Dante and
Catrina’s ceremony would be a short affair with little pomp and
circumstance. A dinner for family and close friends back at the Marcello
home was planned for later.
Naturally, that didn’t mean nothing at all had been done for their day to
make the church feel as if a wedding was taking place on a quiet Tuesday.
A white satin runner lined the aisle. Blush creams and white colored tulle
linked between each pew, attached with bows of silk tied around the stems
of arranged roses. Petals scattered the floor up the altar where Dante stood
waiting with his hands clasped at his back. Light from the late morning
filtered in through the stained glass windows, bathing the church in muted
colors.
No one stood beside Dante at the altar. Their witnesses would stand
when needed, but they really didn’t need or want them beyond that. Dante
didn’t think it mattered. He and Catrina were adults moving into the next
step of life together—a unit of one.
It was their wedding, after all. Better to do what they wanted for it.
Catrina wanted to walk down the aisle alone. Dante wanted to stand
alone.
When the music changed slightly in tempo, Dante stared down the aisle
as the guests stood from their seats. Their chosen witnesses, Lucian and
Jordyn, who would sign their documents, had already made their entrance
and sat down in the front pew along with the rest of the immediate Marcello
family. A grin split Dante’s lips as he met Catrina’s gaze at the other end of
the church.
Catrina was beautiful. Of course, she was.
It wasn’t her stunning features or demure crimson smile hidden beneath
the sheerness of a veil that surprised him. No, it was the color of her dress.
A blush pink, pale cream, much like the color of his vest, tie, and the silks
and tulles decorating the church. Lace wrapped the bodice of her gown tight
to her trim, toned figure, showcasing her hourglass shape off perfectly.
Capped sleeves kept the bust modest. The dress stayed snug to her body to
just below her thighs were the lace began to flare outward until it met the
floor in a smooth line.
Catrina had been particular about certain aspects of their wedding.
Dante decided to take a step back and let her do whatever in the hell she
wanted. Even so, from the very first time they sat down and discussed their
preferences for the wedding, she had been so fucking secretive about her
dress.
Dante thought it ridiculous. Just a little, given they weren’t exactly a
traditional couple. And despite the fact they were tying the knot in a
Catholic church, the ceremony would be much shorter than a full Catholic
ceremony. But that dress … that damned dress, Catrina kept everything she
could about it as quiet as possible.
Bad luck, he remembered her telling him.
Dante had rolled his eyes, let her have her fun, and brushed it off.
Now, he was glad she had stayed as tight-lipped as she did. Nothing
about them or this day was truly real—not in an emotional sense. He hadn’t
woken up that morning with nerves making him anxious. It felt like any
other Tuesday with an extra event added on he needed to get done before he
could move onto more important things.
It just … was.
Simply put, Catrina’s dress was stunning. She looked absolutely
gorgeous in it. The sight of the pink cream lace, her veil trimmed with
pearls, and her smile beneath felt honest. Gratitude danced hand in hand
with his brief moment of pleasure.
So, Dante reveled in that one thing she had managed to give him
without even really knowing it. The closer Catrina came down the aisle, the
bigger his grin grew. He didn’t think about the people watching him or her
from the pews. Their thoughts and opinions on the day wouldn’t make a
difference to the end result.
Father Peter, who stood just a foot behind Dante with his bible in hand,
chuckled. Very quietly, the priest said, “She’s a beautiful bride, Dante.”
Dante nodded almost subtly, keeping his gaze on Catrina all the while.
“She is.”
And even if Catrina wasn’t really his, she still would be in a way. If
nothing else came of the day that one thing was something Dante would
keep. Privately, to be sure, but he would keep it.
When Catrina came to a stop at the bottom of the altar, she flashed him
with a brilliant smile and a wink. Even in church, the girl was trouble. But
with that simple action, she took away all the tension still lingering in his
ramrod straight spine. She would seal his fate, his seat within his family,
and he was so thankful for that. Dante didn’t think for one minute their
agreement would be easy, but he decided to be open to Catrina’s friendship.
Even if she came with claws.
Dante walked down the steps of the altar to stand at Catrina’s side and
face the priest. His gaze caught the back of her dress and his mouth went
dry. While the color and style were more than appropriate for a Catholic
service, the wide open back dipping nearly down to the swell of her ass
pushed the line.
And good fucking God, was it sexy as sin.
Dante willed the sudden rise of desire shooting through his bloodstream
away. He did not need that shit right now. Not in church.
Father Peter said his introduction of the couple for the attendees. There
was very little wiggle room in a Catholic ceremony for certain aspects,
especially in the area of tradition and the rite of marriage.
“Dante, who presents you for this union?” Father Peter asked.
“I give myself into this union freely.”
“Who presents you today, child?” Father Peter asked Catrina.
“I present myself.”
“And do you come into this union free in mind and pure in heart to tie
your soul with this man?”
Catrina smirked wickedly under her veil. “Certainly free of mind,
Father.”
A quiet round of chuckles murmured through the small, still standing
crowd of guests.
Father Peter clicked his tongue chidingly, but Dante heard the humor
when the priest said, “Do I have to ask again, Catrina?”
“I come willingly into this union, Father.”
“And, Dante, do you come into this union free in your mind and pure in
your heart, open to tying your soul with this woman’s?”
“I come willingly,” Dante replied.
Father Peter smiled. “Do you stand here together, giving one another the
promise of lifelong fidelity and loyalty to your marriage?”
“We do,” Catrina and Dante said together.
Dante wet his lips, waiting for the final question before they could begin
the ceremony. It had only been included because it needed to be, not
because he wanted it to be. The priest knew of Dante’s reasons for
including the pointless question for the couple, so that made it a little easier.
Father Peter’s smile faded a bit as he asked, “Together as a unity in your
marriage, are you open to children?”
“We are,” they answered together quietly.
“Good, then let’s begin.”
Kim stepped away from Giovanni’s side in the front row to take the
small bouquet of white roses from Catrina’s outstretched hand.
Once Kim was back in line with her husband and the rest of the
Marcello family, Catrina and Dante walked up the steps leading to the
raised altar. As Catrina turned to face Dante, she held her hands out for him
to take and he did without a flicker of hesitation before Father Peter asked
them to. Dante considered it a show of her willingness to see their
arrangement through, so he took the action for what it was.
Two chairs were placed behind Dante and Catrina so they could
participate with the rest of the guests during the ceremony. They would
stand, kneel, pray, read, and act as one with everyone else.
Father Peter began, his usual vocal timber strong and clear as he spoke,
blessing both the couple and the guests. When he finished the initial
blessing, Catrina released Dante’s hands at the same time he let go of hers.
Both made the motions of the cross in time with the priest and guests before
the people and the couple were asked to sit.
Catrina and Dante had forgone the option of having individual speakers
read their choice in prayers and Gospels, and instead, chose for the priest to
do the readings.
Dante canted his head just enough to catch Catrina’s stare in his own.
Her smile hadn’t disappeared below her veil, but it wasn’t as coquettish as
before. Now, it seemed like she was watching him from the side with a little
more intensity as the priest delivered the selected scripture and spoke of the
wise man who built his house on rock.
Time slipped by faster than Dante thought it would. It was strange how
his wedding felt normal and not like the premade arrangement it was. He
knew inside it was because marriage had always been the next step he
refused to take. But now that he was doing it, an invisible weight lifted
from his shoulders.
After today, nothing could hold Dante back from being the Don.
The ceremony progressed with the couple kneeling when directed,
reciting the prayers, and crossing their hearts more times than Dante cared
to count. When they stood one last time, the final Gospel was read, and
Father Peter joined Catrina’s right hand with Dante’s once more.
Dante faced the woman who in less than a couple of short minutes
would become his wife. He kept Catrina’s stare locked in his own as she
repeated the vows the priest recited.
Affection, friendship, and commitment.
God and honor. Loyalty, cherishing, and trust.
The words came out easy for Dante when he too recited the vows.
It was only during the final blessing, after the vows had been spoken,
did Dante stutter in his thoughts. He knew it was coming. Shit, it was one of
the most important parts of the ceremony for most couples, but he and
Catrina hadn’t shared any kind of intimacy but for her little show the first
time they met and that kiss on his birthday.
“You may kiss your bride, Dante,” Father Peter said.
Dante’s gaze flicked over Catrina’s suddenly growing grin beneath her
sheer veil. Her sexiness was back in a blink, teasing him. Catrina was good
for keeping him on his toes. Nothing would be boring with her around. She
liked her shock factor.
Silently, she mouthed, “Kiss your bride, Dante.”
It was time for him to shock her for once, he decided.
She played along the entire day without a single fuss. Unusual for
Catrina, to say the least. He was grateful she let the day go smoothly for
them both.
Catrina stepped closer to Dante as he reached for her veil. He flipped
the sheer fabric over her head with the rest of it, cupped her jaw in his firm
hold, and kissed her hard. Catrina’s eyes flew wide, her fingers wrapping
around his wrists.
She didn’t try to move away from the kiss, though. No, instead he felt
her lips twist with a smile before they parted just enough to let his tongue
spear into the heat of her mouth. She kissed him back as applause began to
echo through the church and the priest presented them to the guests.
As Dante pulled away from Catrina, keeping his gaze locked on hers,
she still held tight to his wrists.
The clapping continued.
It was done.
•••
“Time to fill the seats,” Antony said quietly.
Dante caught both his brothers staring at him while they sipped from
balloon glasses half-filled with cognac. “There’s no seats to fill.”
Not in the Marcello Cosa Nostra, anyway. All their important seats were
filled—caporegimes included. Filling seats meant giving a man his button,
turning him into a made man for la famiglia.
“There’s going to be,” Antony replied vaguely.
“Here, tonight?” Dante gave a pointed nod to the guests wandering from
room to room, celebrating the private affair of the final Marcello brother’s
wedding.
Antony nodded. “Here. Ten minutes, my office. Let the men know.”
Without another word, Dante’s father moved back into the crowd of
guests.
“You have to empty a seat to fill it,” Giovanni said at Dante’s left.
“As far as I know, we don’t have a rat needing smoked out,” Lucian
added quietly. “I would know if we did. And I can’t see him making a mess
Cecelia might have to see if he knows something I don’t.”
“Maybe he’s opening a new seat for someone,” Dante suggested.
“Though I should have been told, given the fact I’m acting boss.”
Lucian shook his head. “No, there’s only been a few prospective men
we’re watching for the button. The floor hasn’t even been opened for
nominations, either. Something’s off.”
Giovanni sighed, clearly annoyed. “I hate it when he does shit like this.”
Dante did as well. He was Antony’s fucking underboss who should have
been made aware if a change was happening or the floor was opening to
nominations. Instead, his father acted as if Dante didn’t share any power in
their family at all and had no right to be let in on the man’s plans.
He was getting sick of it.
Quickly, Dante surveyed the guests in his vicinity. He supposed it made
sense for Antony to do something tonight, considering all the made men in
their family had been invited to the wedding. Not to mention, they had
come to celebrate at the Marcello mansion, too. Really, it didn’t matter
when it happened. If the floor was opened, and seats needed filled, the men
had to show up where they were ordered to and on time regardless of what
was going on at that current moment.
It was a rule. One they would die for breaking.
Dante reminded himself silently that he too had to follow those rules the
same as everyone else. That included trusting his father’s choices and
motives whether he knew what Antony’s plans were or not.
“We don’t question a boss,” Dante said. He wanted to get his brothers
out of their thoughts and into the place they needed to be for whatever was
about to happen. “Let the men know a seat needs filled. Eight minutes, now.
Do not keep Antony waiting.”
Lucian and Gio broke away from Dante, not needing to be told again.
Dante weaved through the guests enjoying the food and specialty desserts to
find where his new wife might be. He found Catrina on the makeshift
dancefloor, twirling a little girl Dante recognized as being the daughter of
one of his father’s capos.
Catrina looked happy enough with the child’s hands in hers, swaying to
the music pumping out of the sound system. It was supposed to be a night
for her to enjoy, even if their marriage was one giant charade, and he hated
to interrupt her fun just so he could disappear.
It didn’t matter. He couldn’t get off unnoticed as Catrina caught his eye.
She winked, nodding her head for him to come over.
“Have you met Mr. Marcello?” Catrina asked the child when Dante
came to stand at his wife’s side.
“No,” said the little girl.
She looked scared staring up at Dante, for whatever reason.
“Oh, don’t be frightened of him,” Catrina said, waving at her husband.
She picked the little girl up so she could be eye-level with Dante. “He’s like
a fluffy kitten.”
Fluffy kitten?
“And he doesn’t even have claws,” Catrina added in a whisper.
For Christ’s sake.
“I am not a—”
“Stata Zeet, bello,” Catrina said, effectively telling him to shut up while
giving him a sly smile. “It’s her first time coming here. She’s nervous
because the house is so large and she doesn’t know anyone. Say hello.”
Dante felt more uncomfortable by the minute because the child seemed
frightened of him. “Hello.”
A wide grin broke out across the child’s face. “Hi! I’m Catie.”
Dante should have figured that. “Cat, don’t go teaching this child your
tricks because she shares a similar name to you. Not every cat needs claws,
bella.”
“Better they do have them,” Cat quipped. She set the child to the floor
and ushered her off with a few other children dressed up and dancing. “I
haven’t seen you, Dante. We need to dance, you know.”
“We can do that in a while, if you want.”
He didn’t mind indulging Catrina, whatever her schemes were.
She gestured at the people. “It’s a wedding reception. You have to do
the customs. At least your mother managed to wrangle you in to cut the
cake. Smile and bear it.”
“In a while,” he repeated. “I have something to take care of and need to
disappear for a bit. Will you be fine alone, or do you need someone to ward
off the wolves?”
Catrina laughed in that way of hers. Confident and airless at the same
time. It was no wonder she could catch a man’s eye with barely any effort at
all. The woman had perfected her web. “Do you think I need someone to
ward them off?”
“No, but I thought I should ask. Has my mother made an effort to chat
with you tonight?”
“She did and it was awkward, as usual. Worry not. Go do your …
business, is it?”
“A seat is opening. I don’t know whose.”
Catrina pursed her lips. “I feel like I should—”
“Not for something like this. That would never be acceptable,” Dante
interjected, wanting to shut that thought down before Catrina settled on it.
God knew when this woman decided she wanted something, there was
nothing that would stop her from taking it.
“You didn’t let me finish, Dante. You Italian men are all the same,
always needing to get your words in before anyone else. I was going to say
that I feel like I should tell you good luck or something. Seats only open
when one is empty, correct?”
“Yeah,” Dante confirmed.
“As I said, then, good luck.”
Catrina reached out and gave Dante’s hand a soft squeeze before turning
back to the children. It was an innocent enough action but it still turned him
rigid on the spot, like his feet were made of cement.
A hand landed on Dante’s shoulder, breaking him from his daze.
“Let’s go,” he heard Lucian say behind him.
The two brothers made it to the third floor where Antony’s office
resided in record time. Most of the men from downstairs who needed to be
in the room were already there. Dante took his seat beside his father’s desk
and Paulie was already sitting on the other side. Antony sat behind his desk
at the head of the room, stoic and silent, twisting his signet family ring
around his finger.
Slowly, the rest of the men trickled into the room, all wearing the same
mask of confusion and curiosity. A few eyed one another suspiciously.
Dante noted they all filed in on time by the end of it. Nobody said a word as
the men leaned against walls, sat on the couch, and practically filled
Antony’s office until there was little room to move.
Dante counted the made men of their family—thirty-eight including his
father and his brothers. Nineteen of which were capos, the others were men
who had earned their button for whatever reason.
Antony nodded at the still open office door. “Somebody close that. No
need to bother the guests if this gets loud.”
“There a problem, Boss?” someone asked near the back of the room.
“Only if someone in here wants to make one,” Antony replied, seeming
bored. “Close the damn door, I said.”
The door shut with a quiet click.
“Three seats are opening tonight,” Antony murmured, still twisting his
ring.
Men shifted on their feet, quiet murmurs passing through the room.
Again, some tossed wary glances at one another. It was never a good thing
when full seats were emptied. It meant death because that was the only way
someone left Cosa Nostra.
Unless …
Dante’s thought process shut off as he met Lucian’s gaze against the far
wall. His older brother was a pillar of composure and coolness, as he
usually was, but there was a bit of excitement behind his stare, too.
Holy shit.
Dante wasn’t ready for this, was he?
“Three seats, Boss? Didn’t know there was an issue to open them.”
“There isn’t,” Antony said. “It would be rude to stain my wife’s
beautiful rugs with one of your blood. Cecelia would have a righteous fit.
No, there isn’t an issue unless someone wants to make one. Does someone
want to?”
Confirmative no’s echoed from the men.
“Good,” Antony murmured. He stood from his desk, pulling the signet
ring from his index finger as he straightened. The piece of jewelry was
placed to the desk with the utmost care. “Formally, to our Cosa Nostra, I
step down as boss.”
Silence saturated the room with an invisible fog.
Antony crossed his arms over his chest, regarding the men with a softer
stare than he usually sported. “The Commission will, of course, make the
final decision in a few months’ time, but so long as my successor is an
appropriate figure to fill my seat, there will be no problems.”
Dante couldn’t look at his father anymore. His heart was in his throat.
By Cosa Nostra rules, there was only one way for Dante to make it out
of the room alive if he was nominated to be boss—which he knew he would
be—and that was if no one else objected to his nomination. There had to be
a damn good reason for someone to object. Personal issues, fighting,
stealing, a debt owed, and so on. Anything at all that would prove him
incapable of leading. Dante wracked his brain to come up with one problem
he had caused.
If someone objected and the issue was founded, no one could help him.
Not his brothers, or his father … no one.
That was Cosa Nostra rules. Made men lived by them and they died by
them.
“If we take the time to consider this,” Antony said, gesturing at his ring
on the desk, “… it shouldn’t come as a surprise to any of you. It’s been a
long time coming for me. I want to retire and I have made no secret of that
fact. Before someone gets the idea to take my spot from me because I no
longer want it, I’ve decided to give it up. Besides, this is a much more
honorable way for me to go than having my wife bury me, yes?”
None of the men said a word in response. Joking about the death of their
boss was dangerous business and not likely something one of them wanted
to get caught up in. Dante recognized his father’s statement for what it was:
testing the waters.
“A seat in our family is open, fill it,” Antony ordered.
Dante stiffened in his chair, realizing that would probably be his father’s
last demand of his men. Well, in any real official capacity, anyway. Antony
would always be a made man. He would always be bonded by blood and
brotherhood to La Cosa Nostra. His legacy as one of the most ruthless and
profitable mob bosses New York had ever seen would far surpass his life.
But it was still an end of something. His era, maybe. His reign,
definitely.
Antony moved around his desk, patted Dante on the cheek as he passed,
and left the office without a backward glance. He closed the door behind
him as he went.
More silence saturated the space as the men absorbed what had just
happened. Paulie and Dante, being the two highest ranking members under
Antony, had the first pick of proposing a successor. They could not put
forward themselves to take the spot, but they could give it to one another.
Dante knew Paulie didn’t want his father’s seat—he never had. Beyond
that, Paulie was older than Antony by a half of a decade. He was ready to
spend his glory years with his wife, too, not running a criminal empire.
Paulie clipped off the end of a cigar he pulled from his suit jacket. He
worked on lighting the cigar, letting everyone around him stew in their
thoughts. Surely and quietly, like he was breaking bread to begin a meal,
the consigliere said, “I nominate Dante Marcello.”
Before Dante could respond, Lucian replied, “Seconded.”
“Aye,” he heard Giovanni agree somewhere in the crowd of men.
More confirmations sprung from the capos gathered in the office. Dante
felt himself relax into the chair, his tension melting away. He only needed
one person to second Paulie’s nomination for the seat to be his, but he still
couldn’t have even one person object to it.
When the room calmed, Paulie asked, “Any objections to the proposal?”
No one spoke, but Dante briefly caught a glimpse of Gio moving to the
side behind another man. His jaw was tight, head tipped down out of view
so his brother couldn’t see whatever words were coming out of his mouth.
Dante also couldn’t see who Gio had approached as they were swallowed
by the men in front of them.
“It’s agreed, then.” Paulie turned to Dante, grinning as he said, “Boss …
a second chair is open.”
It took Dante far too long to understand what Paulie was telling him. He
had to pick the underboss to take his previous seat and the men had to
agree. Glancing over at his older brother, Dante didn’t even have to think
about it. “Lucian Marcello.”
Lucian responded to Dante with a single acknowledgment, tilting his
chin downward.
“Seconded,” Paulie voiced.
As Lucian’s spot wasn’t like Dante’s, they didn’t have to wait for more
confirmations. One agreement was enough.
“Any objections?” Dante asked.
“No,” the men echoed together.
Dante let out a slow breath as he bent forward and clasped his hands
together between his knees. “A seat is open for the button. I want to get this
over with and get back to my wife. Are there any nominations?”
One name flew out from opposite ends of the office. Two capos wanting
to give a family member the button. Both Dante and Paulie vetoed the
suggestion instantly.
“Too young,” Paulie said.
“Giovanni was only seventeen.”
“Giovanni was guaranteed his button when he wanted it because of his
position in the Marcello family,” Dante said calmly. “From age fifteen on,
he worked his ass off in the streets under several capos in this room, and
two others who now reside in a cemetery. He also managed to finish high
school all the while. Ask any made man Gio apprenticed under if he doesn’t
deserve his button for more than just his last name. And if anyone would
like to discuss Giovanni’s button, feel free to do us all a favor and swallow
a fucking bullet on your way out.”
Dante smiled, knowing damn well it looked cruel. “Moving on. Any
others?”
“Salvatore Bonelli,” Leo, the capo that regularly tested Dante’s
patience, said. Dante couldn’t see the man behind another, but he could hear
him.
Dante waved his hand dismissively. “Four arrests in the last two years
for assault. Misdemeanors, sure, but arrests all the same. Our names do not
need to be in the paper if we can help it. If he can’t keep his hands to
himself outside of the family, he won’t be able to hold back from fighting
with other made men.”
“Valid points,” Paulie said. “Anyone else?”
Nothing came.
Dante had no desire to sit in the office any longer than he had to. “We’ll
get back to this shit another day, but for now, the seat is left open.”
“The crew needs to be handled,” Lucian said. “I can manage some, but
not all working under you.”
“Divide it between the closest capos to the territory,” Dante ordered.
“Tribute remains the same. Speaking of tribute, I will see you all at the end
of next month. Go drink and wish my father well.”
Once the men were gone, Dante was quick to ask, “Gio, who was going
to object?”
Giovanni cocked a brow, unfazed. “I don’t think he would have, but I
didn’t want to chance it.”
“Who?”
“Leo.”
Lucian sighed harshly, rubbing at his forehead. “We have to consider if
he’s going to end up being an issue needing culled.”
“He’s had a hard-on for me ever since that first tribute when Antony
didn’t show up.”
“I know,” Lucian muttered.
“And he’s really pissing me off lately with his snide fucking comments,
too. I’ll seed a few men into his crew and we’ll go from there,” Gio said.
Paulie chuckled at Dante’s side. “You left out something important.”
Dante didn’t think he had. “What?”
“The ring, my boy.”
Scowling, Dante picked up his father’s signet Marcello family ring from
the desk. He spun it around the tip of his middle finger, considering the
jewelry. It was custom for the boss to wear something of this nature as a
sign of his place and significance. When made men greeted him, they
usually kissed the piece.
Still, Dante wasn’t sure if he wanted to take the ring on as his own, or
not. “It’s my father’s ring.”
“Yours now,” Paulie corrected gently.
“Seems you’ve got two new pieces of jewelry to wear,” Lucian said.
“All in one day, too.”
“Shut up with your nonsense, man.”
Lucian lifted a single shoulder in response, still leaning against the wall
like this was any other day for him. Dante wondered how his older brother
could be so nonchalant about the entire situation. For him, it felt like a slam
in the gut—not necessarily in a bad way, either.
“It’s tradition for you to take it,” Paulie explained. “Antony wouldn’t
have given it up if he wasn’t truly ready to, Dante.”
“For the older generation, they’re going to expect you to have it on at all
times,” Giovanni added, closing the office door. “You know all those
ancient fools like Paulie love their traditions.”
“Watch your mouth, Giovanni. Call me a fool and old one more time
and watch what this old fool will do to you.”
Gio scoffed but wisely chose to stay quiet.
Dante slid the ring down his finger, the gold clicking against his
wedding band. It didn’t feel different, nor did it weigh his hand down
physically or symbolically. He needed that. “Just the Commission, now.”
“With your marriage sealed, you have nothing to worry about,” Paulie
assured.
“Congratulations are in order,” Lucian said, his sly grin making Dante’s
own grow. “The Marcellos have a new boss.”
“And a younger generation of men taking their thrones,” Paulie said,
reaching over to slap Dante’s knee. “God save us all.”
Chapter Seven
A wisp of relief tumbled through Cat’s heart when she saw her new
husband weaving his way through the crowd toward her. She hadn’t known
what kind of business he needed to take care of earlier, but the confused
expression he wore bothered her before he left. It didn’t help that once he
was gone, the guests practically emptied of men. Not to mention, the
women whispered amongst themselves like little hens clucking in a barn.
Dio, Catrina hated women.
Well, usually. Dante’s sisters-in-law weren’t too bad. They had yet to
work her nerves like most females did.
Cat took the hand Dante offered, letting him draw her in close. His tux
jacket was gone, leaving his light gray dress shirt, blush cream vest and tie
available for her to admire. The shades of pink suited him well, not that
Dante wasn’t handsome enough all on his own. She was glad her new
husband hadn’t put up a fight about the colors she chose for the day.
Dante placed his other hand at the small of Cat’s back as they began to
move with the romantic, slow music. Guests moved off the makeshift
dancefloor to allow the couple their private first dance, but stayed close
enough to watch Cat and Dante move together.
With Dante’s fingers interwoven with hers while the two moved
seamless across the floor to the music, Cat could feel something new on his
left hand. A quick check showed a new gold ring on his index finger,
glittering beside the gold of his wedding band. The signet in the middle of
the ring displayed an eagle overlooking an empire beneath it.
She recognised the crest immediately as the Marcello’s.
“What’s this?” Cat asked¸ letting her finger trace over Dante’s new
accessory.
“I wondered how long that would take you to notice.”
One of the most important parts of Cat’s job, and the thing that kept her
the safest, was being able to notice things. “Are you deflecting my
question?”
“Of course not,” Dante replied, grinning roguishly. “The meeting went
well, by the way.”
“You’re alive, I suppose. Business, huh?”
“Important business. The Marcellos have a new boss, Cat, and you’re
dancing with him.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. How is this for a first dance?”
“Decent enough, although the night is almost over and you’re terribly
late getting it done for the gawkers.”
“My apologies, dolcezza.”
“You keep calling me dolcezza, but I don’t think you understand what it
means,” Cat said teasingly. “Because if you did, you would know there isn’t
a thing about me that’s sweet, bello.”
Dante winked. “Oh, I think there’s a bit of sweetness down in that black
soul of yours somewhere.”
Cat wasn’t sure if there was anything sweet left in her soul at all. If
there was, she hadn’t found it. Emotions never mixed well with her
profession and she learned long ago it was better to close that side of her
off, slide on the proper mask for the occasion, and give the crowd what they
thought they wanted from her.
How long had she been playing those games, now?
Years. So many years.
“What’s wrong, Cat?” Dante asked.
“Nothing.”
Cat gave him what she hoped was a sensual smile and enough to distract
Dante’s keen attention from her mood to her beauty. Men were ridiculously
predictable in that way. All a pretty woman needed to do was focus the man
on the particular asset she wanted him admiring, and all other thoughts were
lost.
She should have known better than to try and trick Dante Marcello like
she would any other man. Dante was not like all the others, Cat knew.
“Catrina,” Dante said, a warning darkening his deep tenor. “I thought
we agreed not to lie to one another.”
Cat almost hated the way this man’s voice and attention troubled her in
ways she couldn’t quite explain. She was always the one with the upper
hand—always. Dante made Cat toe her very carefully constructed line of
control. It didn’t help at all that she found him attractive and interesting.
Men were not interesting to Cat.
Attractive, sure.
Interesting, no.
Dante Marcello had both of those things going for him. Men were
pawns to Cat. A means to an end. Cat understood the power of female
manipulation better than anyone and used it to her advantage in whatever
way possible to reach her goals or meet her needs.
Cat was finding Dante was not the type of man to be manipulated.
And that unsettled her.
“I’m not lying,” Cat finally replied, forcing her demeanor to remain the
same and not show her inner turmoil.
“Omission is the same thing. Why the frown? You never frown. Glare
occasionally, but never frown. Tell me.”
“You’re an awfully pushy man, Dante.” Cat tapped her manicured nail
on his chest, raising her eyebrow in challenge. “I think you’ll find I’m not
an easily controlled woman and demands will get you nowhere with me.”
Dante’s hand holding Cat’s squeezed, his palm at her back pushing her
firmly into his muscular form. “Your guiles won’t work on me, Catrina
Marcello.”
Cat met Dante’s gaze, her surprise nearly making her stumble though
Dante kept them moving without missing a beat. “I am, aren’t I?”
“Hmm?”
“Catrina Marcello.”
Dante flashed white teeth in a sexy grin. “We were married at eleven
this morning at you’re just realizing this now, bella mia?”
“Well, no.”
Maybe …
“Quiet, you,” Cat said, hushing her husband’s chuckles with a single
glance. “Not the married part, but my name. You’re the first person to really
say it other than the priest this morning.”
“That’s a damn shame,” Dante murmured. “I think it sounds lovely.”
Cat pursed her lips. “You would being a man. It’s another way to mark
your territory, no?”
“Keep your nastiness to yourself, Catrina. I’m catching on to your
games quicker than you think. When something bothers you, for some
reason, you feel the need to revert to your sharp tongue and attitude. That
might work on everybody else but it doesn’t have any effect on me.”
Yes, so Cat was learning.
“I do think it sounds nice,” Dante added softer, letting Cat spin out from
him as the music changed slightly in tempo. He brought her straight back
into his arms in a smooth motion. “And since we both know you’re not the
kind of woman to be owned, it has little to do with marking my territory, as
you put it.”
Cat’s resolve shook.
“Tell me why you were sulking, Cat.”
She couldn’t tell him the truth, not without showing weakness. Nothing
was worth a man seeing her cracks. Absolutely nothing.
Lie, her mind demanded. Lie, lie, lie.
“Some of these people believe we’re in love,” Cat said, resting her
cheek to Dante’s. “They talk as though we’re skipping off into a happily
ever after together. Doesn’t that trouble you at all?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because most of them don’t know this is a personal arrangement
between you and me. Also, they could be comparing me to my brothers.
Both Lucian and Giovanni found their amores quickly and wasted no time
getting them down the aisle. Hell, Gio didn’t even tell anyone he was
married until Kim showed up on our doorstep.”
“But still … they expect to see things,” Cat said, shrugging under the
weight of her capped sleeved gown. “Intimacy and care, you know.”
“Love, you mean.”
“Exactly.”
Dante’s laughter rumbled. His lips ghosted over the shell of her ear,
making Cat shiver. “Dolcezza, take a look around you and think about what
these people are seeing right now. We’ve danced through two songs already
without breaking our attention from one another and the song currently
playing is not at all the kind of music made for waltzing. I’m holding you
tightly, so very close to me. My mouth is at your ear and the smile you
always wear is pressed to my cheek.”
The slight stubble on Dante’s jaw tickled Cat’s skin as he spoke, waking
up her long dormant desires. She pushed the urges down, needing to ignore
them.
“We are talking so low no one else can hear,” he continued, his hand
traveling higher to the bare skin of Cat’s back. “You look incredibly
beautiful, certainly happy, and maybe even a little more than content in my
arms. Trust me when I say, we appear very much in love to these people.”
Cat swallowed the lump forming in her throat. It was disconcerting the
way Dante’s words flowed over her body like thick honey. Dante pulled
away from Cat enough to let her see the overly smug smirk he sported.
Clearly he knew the effect he had. Green eyes so striking he could quiet a
room with a single blink. A body meant to be admired and touched.
Confidence and cockiness in the abundance.
He used it all, too. Much like she did.
Those walls of Catrina’s slammed back up in an instant.
“You’re far too attractive for your own good,” Cat said, sighing. “Who
is the one playing games, now, Dante?”
Dante frowned as he regarded her. Had she misjudged his actions? “Life
isn’t a chess board, Cat.”
Wasn’t it?
She had always been Queen.
•••
Cat cussed a blue streak under her breath, unable to reach the spot
between her shoulder blades with the small pair of scissors. She struggled
with her reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror, trying to maneuver the
blades of the scissors at the right spot on her dress to snip the bit of white
thread.
Goddamn Kim and her ridiculous idea to sew the one piece of Cat’s
dress that kept it up and all together. If not for the small piece of the lace
that connected at her shoulders, the dress would hang limp over her body
and not tight like it had.
“What if the clasp lets go while you’re dancing later?” her new sisterin-law had asked.
Good safety precaution … Cat’s gaze narrowed in her frustration before
she tossed the scissors into the sink. She didn’t want to the ruin the
gorgeous dress by missing the few cautiously placed stitches and cutting the
lace instead. Despite her marriage being nothing more than a business deal,
Cat had wanted to feel some semblance of normalcy on her day. She could
have just as easily purchased a simple dress with no fuss and walked down
the aisle to say her vows. She could have forgone the decorations and small
cake, perhaps even the private reception and dinner afterward.
But Cat hadn’t wanted to. She was only going to marry once. Even if it
wasn’t for love, the day deserved to be remembered with fondness.
It was bad enough there were so many things she had to go without. Her
family, for one. Not that her parents would have come if invited. It hurt but
Cat couldn’t allow herself to dwell on it. Her sister … well, that was just
impossible.
Cat huffed, refusing to let her mind wander into those painful thoughts.
The day had been good, considering everything, and the last thing she
wanted to do was ruin it with all of that nonsense.
Leaving the bathroom, Cat eyed the hotel room with little interest. The
suite had been booked for a week as a gift from her new in-laws. She wasn’t
sure if it was Antony and Cecelia’s way of making light of the marriage or
showing some form of acceptance or not. The five-star Presidential suite
was a bit much what with its two private bedrooms, living and sitting
rooms, an entertainment room, and private balcony access. In Cat’s opinion,
anyway. Thankfully, the suite did have separate sleeping quarters divided by
more than just a single door.
Someone had given that consideration, at least.
Cat crossed the room and knocked on Dante’s door, hoping he wasn’t
already sleeping. Before she could take a step back, it opened. Dante stood
with a phone pressed to his ear, a stern expression marring his features, and
his vest and dress shirt completely unbuttoned. His tie hung loose around
his neck as if he’d been pulling on it before she interrupted him.
Dante held up a single finger, silently asking for a moment, but Cat
wasn’t paying his request the least bit of attention. No, her gaze was
thoroughly stuck on the bare expanse on his chest and abdomen.
Every well-defined cut of muscle Cat had the pleasure of seeing jumped
as Dante took a step back into the room, waving for his wife to follow. She
didn’t move. No, Cat was caught like a deer in the headlights admiring the
sight in front of her.
The ink of a tattoo was barely visible on Dante’s chest. What she could
make out, Cat liked a lot. She had never been one for tattoos on a man, but
the hint of eagle wings caught her attention as he turned and his shirt
opened more. The tanned row of abs led from right below Dante’s chest all
the way down to the hard chiseled V-shape of his groin. The dress pants he
wore were also unbuttoned, showing a peek of black boxer-briefs beneath
and a dusting of dark hair that likely led all the down to his …
Cat caught herself just in time to yank away from those lustful thoughts.
Her gaze snapped back up to Dante’s face still showing his frustration. At
least he hadn’t noticed her slip.
Cristo, she had to get a handle on this nonsense.
“Yeah, well, he can either fuck off with his opinion or have a sit-down
about it,” Dante said.
He waved at Cat once more to come into the room. This time, she did.
“I don’t care if he doesn’t like me mixing business with a female. I’m
not running his family, I’m running ours, Lucian. That means my decisions
for the way I do shit doesn’t have to be approved by him, and if he doesn’t
like that, he can suck my dick.”
Cat scoffed, wagging her finger at Dante in mock admonishment for his
language. How the man got anything done on the business side of things
using words like that, she didn’t understand. Then again, when it came to
Cosa Nostra, it was always men yelling back and forth at one another. If a
woman was involved, she doubted it would be the same story.
Dante rolled his eyes. “Whatever, you pass my message along. If he
wants to have a meeting about it, we’ll do that. Be sure to let him know
Catrina will be there and so should his wife. Maybe they can have a fucking
tea party. Good night.”
The phone was shut off and tossed to the end of the bed, forgotten.
While Dante tugged off his tie and vest, tossing them to the bed, too, he
said, “You should get out of that dress, Cat. You’ve been in it all damn day.”
“I’m working on it,” she replied, smiling sardonically. “What’s this
about a tea party?”
Dante slipped out of his dress shirt, letting it fall over the arm of a chair.
The eagle tattoo spread across his pectoral muscles was amazing in detail
and the only ink she could see on his body. Cat averted her stare from his
gorgeous form, not wanting to become distracted again. “It’s nothing. Just
the fucking Calabrese family running their mouths. The boss is taking issue
with the fact I’m letting a woman in on some of my business while she lets
her men run their products in my streets. Apparently you being my wife
doesn’t make a difference.”
“A tea party, really? I know they call me a queen, Dante, but I’m not
going to play nice with a bunch of bitchy mob wives just because I have a
uterus, a pair of tits, and a good dose of estrogen like they do. That’s about
the only thing we would have in common. I’m more likely to kill one of
them than make friends if you put us alone in a room together.”
“It was a joke, bella mia.”
“I hope so,” Cat said frankly.
“And the killing them thing better have been a joke, too,” Dante added,
cocking his eyebrow.
She couldn’t promise him that.
“I don’t like women, Dante. Especially those kinds of women. They do
little but annoy me with their complaints, gossip, and bickering. Their idea
of fun is drinking wine, chatting about who is fucking who, and ignoring
what their husbands are doing behind their backs. So long as they’ve got
new furs, a fast car, and a diamond on every finger, who cares that their
men have a dozen whores housed across the city?”
“Cat—”
“I am not making nice with those women just to suit your needs.”
“I didn’t say you had to!”
Cat tucked her chin downward, surprised at Dante’s sudden outburst.
“Okay.”
“Good God, woman, let me fucking speak.”
“Okay,” Cat repeated.
“Carl Calabrese is not a stupid man. When Lucian tells him I said my
wife and his wife could have a tea party together, trust that he knows I’m
being nothing more than an asshole and challenging him at the same time.
If he is already aware you have men working under you, he also knows
you’re nothing like his easily pleased wife who likes to pretend her husband
isn’t running a criminal organization.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, Cat.”
“Well, then.” As long as her husband wasn’t setting her up for some
throat-slashing-worthy dinner, Cat was good. “Fine, I’ll do the … whatever
it is you need me to do.”
“You are insufferable,” Dante said, shaking his head.
Cat’s fists met her hips. “I beg your pardon?”
“Exactly what I said. You’re combative and difficult. Nothing irks me
more than a woman who likes to press my buttons.”
Cat didn’t bother to hide her smug smirk. “It’s good to know I unnerve
you, bello.”
“Unnerve, annoy … same thing.”
“Be nice,” Cat warned. “It’s our wedding night, after all.”
“Yes and we’re arguing already not to mention we’re not even fucking,”
Dante replied just as fast. “I happen to think if we were, it might make your
attitude a little more bearable sometimes, but you’re probably not willing to
test that theory out. No doubt this is going to be a good indicator of the next
fifty years of my life with you at my side. I’m so looking forward to that.”
Dante didn’t look pleased at all as he went about shrugging off his dress
pants. Cat had to avert her eyes again to keep from gawking at his very fit
form that could make her mouth water. Even his thighs were fantastic, for
Christ’s sake. He pulled out a pair of cotton sleep pants and tugged them on,
staying silent.
Cat felt bad for being contrite. She wasn’t a spoiled woman, as far as
that went. However, she also wasn’t used to dealing with a man like Dante
Marcello. Or rather, a man in his position while he was supposed to be her
partner. Cat never had partners at all. Men worked under her. Men worked
for her. But men never worked with her. This was new.
She reminded herself Dante wasn’t out to get anything from her other
than a marriage license and now he had that. What else could he want from
her but to treat her like a wife? Without the physical side of things, of
course.
Somehow, Cat had to figure out a way to give Dante a bit of leg room
before she extended her claws.
Breaking old habits were easier said than done.
“I’ll try not to be so difficult.”
Dante sighed. “I’d appreciate that.”
“About certain things,” she added quickly.
“Insufferable.”
“You have to see it from my perspective, too, Dante.”
“I’ve tried and failed,” he muttered.
“I will be respectful at this … sit-down, or at least attempt to be on
something worthy of good behavior.”
Dante’s green eyes leveled on Cat with an intensity that pinned her in
place. She didn’t have the first clue why this man had that kind of effect on
her. No man could tame Catrina, they never had. Dante, on the other hand,
could make her feel both like spun glass and cold steel with just a glance. It
was no wonder she wanted to rebel back and push his limits.
Every man had a breaking point, after all.
Old habits, her mind repeated.
“It’s pretty simple, Cat.”
“Is it?”
“I think so. It’s like this: in Cosa Nostra, you don’t mean a thing. And
I’m not saying that to be an ass, either. It’s the truth, whether you like it or
not. Unless you have a dick between your legs, there isn’t going to be one
made man who cares or wants to hear your opinion on something unless
you can earn their respect first. Even then, some of them might not give a
good goddamn. When you’re standing at my side and doing business with
me, it makes you that much more admirable to them.
“You don’t have to agree with it, but it’s fact,” Dante said sharply,
making Cat wince internally. “So if I ask you to make nice with a certain
man’s wife for a single dinner, you might want to do just that for not only
the sake of your status as my wife, but also our mutual work.”
Dante was right, Cat didn’t like it at all, but he had a point. Also, she
needed all the safety net she could get in her marriage with Dante. If
earning the respect of other families around them would give her that, she
would swallow her pride and do it.
Cat nodded. “I will.”
“Thank you.”
“But I don’t like women,” she repeated firmly. “And you can’t force me
to just because you say so, Dante.”
Dante chuckled, eyeing her with amusement. “You do just fine with
Kim and Jordyn. What’s the difference?”
“Their husbands make all the difference,” Cat replied honestly. “How
they treat their wives make for good women who don’t need a man to hold
them up on their own two feet, if you understand what I mean.”
“I do. I should point out they came like that, though. Lucian and Gio
had very little to do with their wives’ strengths, you know.”
“Still … it’s not the same. They’re family, too.”
Now, Cat added silently.
“That they are.”
Dante’s phone vibrated on the bed, but he didn’t even give it an ounce
of attention.
“Did you need help, or something?” he asked.
“Well …”
The phone stopped vibrating, but before Cat could speak, it started up
again.
“Aren’t you going to pick that up?” Cat asked, gesturing at the phone.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Suddenly everyone has an issue that needs discussed with the boss at
this very moment like I’m on call for them or some bullshit. They forget
they work under me and not the other way around. Why they believe it’s
acceptable for them to blow up my phone, I don’t know. I’m sure they can
handle their own business for a night, and if not, they have Lucian to defer
to.”
When the phone stopped ringing for the second time, Cat was surprised
that another call didn’t start coming through straightaway.
“Why did you come find me; did you need help?” he asked again.
“I do need help,” she admitted.
“With your dress?”
“What gave you the first clue?”
“You’re still wearing it and we arrived at the hotel nearly two hours
ago,” Dante said, laughing. “Not that I mind. I like it, of course. Is there a
clasp you can’t reach or something?”
“Not exactly,” Cat replied, her cheeks turning pink.
Why she was embarrassed about her predicament, Cat wasn’t entirely
sure. Maybe because a small part of her thought confessing the lengths she
had gone to in order to make her dress stay perfect for the entire day might
seem like more than it actually was.
“Turn around,” Dante ordered.
Cat did without question. “Yes, there’s a clasp but—”
Dante’s warm fingertips shadowed across the back of Cat’s neck,
making her lose her words and shudder all at the same time. If he noticed
her reaction, Dante didn’t say a thing.
“Quite a bit of skin you showed off today in a Catholic church, wife.”
Cat couldn’t help but smile at his jeering tone. “The neckline was more
than appropriate.”
“Oh, certainly,” Dante agreed, his fingers skipping down to where the
backline of the dress met at Cat’s shoulders. “I won’t argue that point for a
second. This very open back, however, is downright fucking sinful. It hides
nothing but the swell of your ass, Cat, and just barely, I might add.”
Cat bit her inner cheek. “Do you think it crossed a line?”
Dante’s hands on her skin froze. “No, I didn’t say that.”
“I know, I just wondered what you thought, that’s all.”
“What I thought?” Dante asked.
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“Why would you worry what I thought of your dress, Catrina?”
“I …”
Cat couldn’t answer that question. But she had worried about his
opinion and she couldn’t deny it. When she shopped for the wedding dress,
Cat had purposely chosen one she liked, clearly, but she also chose one she
hoped her husband would enjoy, also.
“Bella?”
“I just hoped you would like it, that’s all,” Cat said, not knowing what
else to say.
“I did,” Dante replied quietly. “I thought it was the perfect combination
of inciting and beauty. Elegant with the lace, appropriate with the color—”
Cat laughed softly. “No point in wearing white just to lie, bello.”
“—and provocative with the openness of the back. Mix those things all
together and I thought the dress fit your personality pretty damn well,
Catrina.”
“You liked it, then,” Cat stated.
“Yes, it’s a beautiful dress.”
“It’s funny you would see it like that.”
“What, why?” Dante asked, his hands skimming down her sides. “It’s
true, Cat.”
“My step-father would have said I looked like a whore in it.”
Cat had no idea why she told Dante that. The words slipped out before
she could stop them and she certainly couldn’t take them back now.
Dante went rigid behind her. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Cat turned to face him, shrugging. “Unfortunately, no. I can almost
guarantee he would have called it filth, but he always did think I was trash
for my choices, so it wouldn’t have been anything new. Definitely not
something I hadn’t heard from him before.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to say anything at all.”
“I understand why you didn’t want to invite your parents, now.”
“I haven’t spoken to them since I was fifteen, so it would have made for
an awkward conversation and nothing else. That is if my father had even let
me get that far to ask for their presence today.”
Dante’s brow lifted. “That’s a long time, Cat. I mean, I knew you were
doing your business for quite a while, but fifteen?”
“The Queen Pin came after I left home, obviously. Long after. I don’t
want to talk about it tonight. It’s a story I have no interest to tell, really.”
Because it was not a pretty one. Nothing about her life was, even if Cat
looked the part.
Dante didn’t appear as if he wanted to give up on the topic, but he
dropped it. Cat was grateful.
“The dress is daring, but you didn’t look like a whore, Cat. That is the
very last impression a woman like you gives off, especially when you are as
beautiful as you were today.”
Cat’s air caught in her chest, painfully so. “Thank you.”
“Actually, I should be the one thanking you, Tesoro.”
Treasure.
Good God. Cat’s emotions were already confused enough and the last
thing she needed to hear was this man calling her his treasure. They were
not something. Not in that way. They shouldn’t be because it wouldn’t
work, and Cat had to keep a distance to remind herself of why she had
married Dante in the first damn place.
“Thank me for what?” Cat asked, wanting to get those thoughts out of
her head as quickly as possible.
Dante chuckled, the sound reverberating straight down to the spot
between Cat’s thighs. “For wearing this dress and making sure I didn’t see it
until you walked down to meet me at the end of the aisle.”
Wasn’t that what all brides did? Or most?
“Why on earth would you thank me for that?”
“Because I hadn’t given the wedding much thought. It was just a duty
for me. I did very little leading up to today other than hire the people you
asked for and made sure I showed up on time. It was nothing more than
something needing done in my life. After it was all said and done, I could
move forward to take my birthright like I always needed to.”
“And my dress changed that idea of yours?” Cat asked, feeling more
uncertain than ever.
“Yes, it did,” Dante said. “Because when I saw you, it made me stop
and realize that I was actually getting married and I shouldn’t have tried to
brush the entire event aside like it was just another day. Today wasn’t any
other day, even if I wanted it to be. Because it’s the start of something for
me, and I guess for you, too. It’s still a duty, but at least I’ll have good
memories of it and not the heavy kind I thought would follow behind.”
Cat still didn’t quite believe him. “My dress, huh?”
Dante laughed deeply as he raked his gaze down Cat’s figure as if he
were imprinting her body and curves to memory. Her body turned hot under
his heady regard. “Yes, this very wicked dress, Cat.”
Cat’s palm smacked the middle of Dante’s chest lightly, making his
stare snap up to meet hers. “Oh, stop with your charm. I’m not the kind of
woman who can be seduced by a sexy voice and a few pretty words.”
“Who said I was trying to seduce you at all?”
He was a man with a cock. Of course, he was trying something.
“And a sexy voice, huh?” Dante asked huskily.
God, why did he have to sound like that? She knew he was only doing it
to get a rise out of her, or try anyway.
“Stop it,” Cat snapped.
“If you say so, Cat.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Turn around and I’ll help you with your clasp,” Dante demanded with
a twirl of his finger over her head.
“I’m not a ballerina, Dante.”
“Turn around, woman.”
Chapter Eight
Dante tried to undo the small metal clasp resting between Catrina’s
shoulder blades only to figure out there was white thread sewn in around
the hook to keep it in place. Why, he didn’t know.
“Who in the hell would sew this thing shut?” Dante asked, trying hard
not to laugh and failing miserably.
“Kim,” Catrina said quietly. “She thought maybe the clasp would
weaken when I danced and if it did …”
“There’s not much else holding it up around your shoulders but the thin
lace sleeves.”
“It would have ruined the look of it. I wanted the dress to be nice,”
Catrina explained.
“It was, bella. Very much so.” Dante sighed, knowing he couldn’t get
the damn thread undone unless he ripped it down the small seam. That
might tear the delicate lace as well. “I take it you don’t want me to ruin this
gown, huh?”
“Not really. It took me a month to find it. Even if I won’t wear it again,
it’ll be nice to keep.”
A month?
“It’s just a dress, Cat.”
“Yes, but it was mine. And I wanted you to like it, too. Nothing else
really seemed to fit.”
Dane softened at her admission but he suspected she wouldn’t want him
to tell her that he appreciated her efforts as it was probably too damn
emotional for the woman.
“Wait a second, don’t move,” Dante said.
Catrina stayed still with her back facing Dante while he went in search
of what he needed in his small duffle bag he packed for the week. Inside a
leather toiletry bag, he found small silver scissors. Dante waved the tool at
Catrina when she glanced over her shoulder. Her laughter was light.
“Didn’t Kim think of something like this?”
“I got angry, threw the scissors she gave me in the sink, and stormed
over here.”
Dante laughed loudly. “Sometimes a man is just what you need, Cat,
even if you don’t like to admit it.”
“Most men are useless; some men do have their good qualities,” she
replied.
He chose to take that as a compliment as he went about carefully
snipping the white thread away from the clasp. Once he had the centimetre
long seam split, he pulled the pieces of thread out and unclasped the hook,
baring Catrina’s shoulders.
Dante’s mouth turned dry at the feeling of her silky skin beneath his
palms as he pushed the lace over the curves of her shoulders. “Do you need
me to help you out of this or no?”
Catrina shook her head. “No, but it would be helpful if you could undo
the zipper at the bottom.”
Oh, Christ.
Dante eyed the small ivory zipper starting at the swell of her ass that
only looked to be about six-inches long. “This dress is terribly tight on you.
Not that I’m saying it looks bad, or anything.”
“I know. I liked the style,” she explained. “It felt regal.”
“Sure.”
Quieter, Catrina added, “And despite being called a queen by many, I
rarely ever feel like one on the inside. Wearing this dress made me feel like
I was someone’s queen for a moment.”
Dante’s spine turned ramrod straight. “And now you don’t feel that
way?”
“Well—”
He spun her around so she could face him. Catrina’s hand clutched at
the bodice of her dress, making it stay up around her breasts. “Don’t you
know what you have, now? Who you are?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Come with me,” Dante said, grabbing her wrist.
“My dress might get snagged—”
“Then take it off.”
Catrina stilled. “Are you telling me to get naked, bello?”
“Are you frightened I might see you without clothes, Cat? I seriously
doubt you need to hide beneath that dress.” Dante gestured at his dress shirt
on the bed. “Put that on.”
Dante left the room and not two minutes later, Catrina came out with his
shirt on and nothing else. The hem of the shirt fell just below her ass but
there was no hiding the fact she wore no bra. Lace peeked out at the
junction of her thighs as she crossed her arms under her breasts, letting the
shirt ride up.
“You can sleep in that, if you want,” Dante leered, lifting a brow.
Catrina didn’t respond but he didn’t miss the way she bit the inside of
her cheek, either. “What do you want to show me, Dante?”
Walking across the room, Dante hit a switch on the side of the far wall.
As the electronically controlled shades began to open, exposing a floor to
ceiling wall of glass overlooking one of the busiest parts of the city, Dante
came to stand at a tan leather chaise in front of the windows. Catrina was at
his side in an instant.
“I didn’t notice this earlier.”
“Beautiful, huh?” Dante asked.
“It’s certainly a different look on the city.”
“Our city,” he corrected.
Catrina shot him a look. “Pardon?”
“All of those lights, this place, and those streets … they’re ours, Cat.
So, I don’t want to hear that nonsense coming out of your pretty mouth
again. There’s no need to feel like you’re hiding some kind of pauper
beneath your clothes, not when you’re overlooking an empire.”
Slowly, Catrina walked forward until her hands pressed to the glass.
Dante followed close behind. Without considering his actions, he held her
waist as he stood behind her. It was probably the worst thing he could have
done considering being close to Catrina always put him on edge and
muddled up his mind.
Not to mention his cock.
“I’ve never thought of our marriage this way,” Catrina said.
Dante’s hands squeezed Catrina’s waist as she turned in his arms. “We
run this city. You might have been a queen before, but I gave you the keys
to the kingdom today. I think you’re more than worthy of it, Amore.”
Catrina’s breathing was shallow, her plump bottom lip caught between
her teeth. Dante recognized that vulnerable glimmer in her eye because he
worked his entire life to hide his own. It was just a part of being who he
was.
It was a part of her, too.
Dante didn’t want to make her feel like she had to give it up, so he said,
“I should get back—”
“Don’t go,” Catrina interjected in a whisper.
“What do you want from me?”
Because he sure as fuck didn’t know.
Her next actions spoke volumes so she didn’t have to. Catrina’s nimble
fingers began working the buttons on the shirt she wore out of the loops.
When they were all undone, she shrugged his shirt off, baring her body for
him. Dante kept his gaze locked on hers, his peripherals doing the work for
him, taking in her smooth, creamy skin and the beautiful curves he had
wondered about.
She was stunning. Incredibly so. Perfection in her naked skin.
And then Catrina kissed him. Grabbed his neck, pulled him in to her,
and kissed him. Dante chose not to question her motives or let the protests
in his mind take precedence. Instead, he reveled in the heat of her mouth
and her tongue dancing alongside his.
Dante pulled away, pushing her back into the glass. “What are you
doing?”
“Don’t overthink it,” Catrina said. “Just … don’t.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“I don’t care.”
Dante couldn’t help but lean back and do a study of her body again.
Holy Christ. His hands suddenly ached to explore the beauty offering
herself to him and his cock throbbed.
“Oh, kitten …”
Catrina laughed softly. “There’s a pet name I didn’t expect to hear.”
“It’s perfect. A lioness on the outside and a kitten on the inside. People
don’t get to see it, though, do they?”
She didn’t answer.
Forgive me Father … was tattooed in scripture-styled lettering along her
right rib beside her breast. For Catrina, it seemed fitting. It was the only ink
on her skin he could find other than Queen on her finger. Wanting to taste
the words she had so obviously carefully chosen to be permanently marked
on her body, Dante did just that, kissing the black ink and letting his tongue
sweep along the letters.
“Keep going,” he heard her say above. “Please.”
Lowering to his knees, Dante snapped the inside of her thighs with his
palms. Catrina widened her legs for him. Her skin and tattoo wasn’t the
only thing he wanted to taste. Not now that he had the chance.
Dante’s hands hooked around the edges of her lace thong. “If you want
me to stop, now would be the time to say so, Cat.”
“Don’t stop.”
He pulled the thong down her legs and tossed the article to the floor.
Her fingers found his hair when he kissed the hood of her clit. Her hips
jolted away from his mouth as if he’d burned her.
There was a look of hesitance coloring her gaze as she stared down at
him. Dante suspected while Catrina was experienced with men, there were
certain things she wouldn’t allow. Perhaps this was one of them, for
whatever reason.
“Who has taken you like this?” Dante asked.
“No one,” Catrina answered, her words breathless.
“Why not?”
“Power. I don’t want a man to have it. Not over me.”
But he did and she was letting him.
Dante held her gaze as his tongue stuck out against her sex again,
sliding between the folds of her pussy. He licked her slit, taking with it the
arousal gathering. She was tart and hot on his tongue, making his mouth
water.
“You taste sublime.”
Catrina’s fingers tightened, stinging his scalp, as she choked out an
anxious sound.
“Do you like that, kitten?”
“So much.”
“More?” Dante asked.
“Yes.”
Dante didn’t need to ask again. He fucked her pussy with his tongue
with hurried, harsh strokes to her clit, alternating down further to her
entrance where he speared inside her channel to lap at the juices. She didn’t
take long at all to reach her peak, and when she came around his tongue, her
cries high and broken, he licked her clit tougher until a second release was
clawing through her veins, too.
“Oh my God,” Catrina mumbled.
The moment she released her grip on him, Dante stood. He spun her
body around, catching her wrists in his hand and putting them above her
head. In this position, her chest pressed to the window, Catrina’s back
curved inwards and her ass was on display for him. Rounded and perfect for
the fit of his palm against it. He drove his hand down her spine, feeling her
shiver under his touch. Those hazel eyes of hers watched him under a
hooded gaze and thick lashes darkened with mascara.
“You are the most sinful fucking creature I have ever seen,” Dante
murmured thickly.
Catrina squirmed in his hold, making her ass rub deliciously along the
seam of his cotton pants where his erection was straining against the fabric.
There was no hiding what having her naked and under his mercy was doing
to him. Not that he wanted to hide it.
“So beautiful,” he said, his hand coming down to smack the side of her
ass and punctuate his words.
“Dante … again, please.”
His hand cracked down again. “So sexy.”
Dante slipped his hand between his groin and her backside. His fingers
sliding along the crack of her ass until he came to her sex. Spreading her
fleshy folds, warm, slick arousal met the tips of his digits.
“Fuck, you’re so hot right now because of this, aren’t you, kitten?”
Catrina nodded, unashamed. For such a controlling, strong woman, she
liked her men to have the power in the bedroom. He adored it and was more
than willing to fill that need.
Dante’s fingers sunk into her waiting pussy, curling to find the spot to
make her knees weak. It didn’t take him long to find it. Catrina pushed her
chest firmer into the glass as he fucked her with his fingers slowly, taking
the time to learn her body and sounds as he worked her to a precipice.
Oh, yes. Catrina was a screamer.
“Louder,” he murmured in her ear before nipping at the sensitive spot
below.
She obliged in a beautiful fucking way.
Her cries were music. The perfect kind. Dante loved hearing what he
did to a woman.
Slowing the rhythm of his fingers until he was just massaging her Gspot with his fingers, Dante watched Catrina’s expression in the window
change to desperation as the muscles in her back clenched. He knew she
was trying to hold it back. G-spot only stimulation was an entirely different
orgasm.
“This is going to feel so fucking good for you, Cat. When you come on
my fingers, you’re going to rain on them. Stop trying to keep it away and let
it go, mia regina.”
Catrina struggled in his hold but Dante held her wrists strong to the
glass, refusing to let her go.
“Please, please, please …”
“What, bella? Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Dante pressed his fingers a little rougher into the spot overwhelming
Catrina, and she didn’t have a choice. Just like he said, her juices flooded
his fingers as her airless cry pierced the room when her orgasm took her
under the current.
Before the waves could subside, he was pulling her arms down and
turning her. Catrina’s back hit the glass with a thump. His mouth found hers
while she pushed at his cotton pants, tugging them down around his hips.
Dante let the article fall, stepping out of them without missing a beat. His
boxer-briefs took the same path.
“I don’t have any condoms,” Dante said, wanting her to know before
they went any further. “I didn’t think I had any reason to bring them.”
Catrina shrugged. “I haven’t been with someone in a long time and
when I was, I was safe.”
“I’ve always been safe as well.”
“Pregnancy isn’t a concern,” Catrina said, filling in a black Dante didn’t
have to say.
“No. We good?”
“So good.”
Finding her hands with his, Dante moved them backward until he felt
his legs hit the leather chaise. When he sat down, she turned under his
urging again, lowering onto his lap. With no hesitation, Catrina sank down
on his length, her satisfied moan matching the shudder crawling over her
pale shoulders. Her sex was pure heat around his cock, gripping him tight
enough to take his breath away. The lingering taste of her juices still had his
mouth watering, but it was even better to see her arousal coating his dick.
Dante rested back on the chaise, keeping one foot on the floor to
maintain balance and the other bent at the knee. Catrina adjusted her body
on top of him, but instead of straddling her feet on either sides of his waist
to ride him, she put one on the outside of his bent leg and the other between
his spread thighs. He could feel the wet silkiness of her sex grinding along
his thigh as she began riding him.
The swell of her ass looked so fucking good every time it fit into his
groin. Dante had the perfect view of his soaked, bare length sinking into her
pink folds and feel her pussy grab him tight with every lift of her hips. He
fisted her red locks with one hand and grasped the curve in her waist with
his other, pulling her down harder onto his cock with every thrust.
“Ah, fuck,” Dante breathed. “You look good like that, bella mia.”
Catrina tipped her head to the side, giving him a view of her profile and
wide eyes. Dante didn’t think it was often this woman gave herself over to a
man, so he was de-fucking-lighted to be the one having her now.
A tremor rocked her bottom lip as her teeth cut into the red flesh,
another loud cry muffled. Tugging sharply on her hair, Dante growled, “I
want to hear you fucking scream for me again, kitten.”
Her fingernails dug into his thigh, her other hand clasping to his wrist.
The shout of his name she released slammed him straight in the gut like a
goddamn wrecking ball. Cat rolled her hips in a way that had her clit
stimulated by his thigh and her fluids gushing down his cock. Dante’s heart
hammered fast as he kept watching the erotic sight of her sex taking him in
over and over.
“Christ, I wish you could see the way this looks,” Dante said, forcing
the words out past his gritting teeth. “You’re so wet, and I can feel your
fucking heartbeat against my cock, Cat.”
“Oh, God.”
A pressure was building in his spine and his balls tightened with the
promise of an oncoming orgasm, but he refused to let it go. The slight sting
of her nails and the daze he was in kept him focused. The sight of her was
enthralling. Free, wild, and open. It wasn’t often she looked that way, but he
loved the fact she did right now.
Especially with him.
Dante let go of her waist, slipping his hand down under her ass. Her
wetness smeared along his fingers as he held the base of his cock while she
continued riding him. Dragging the damp digits to her back entrance, he
massaged the tight hole in time with her rhythm.
“Please,” he heard Catrina whisper.
Dante grinned, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Ask me for it, kitten.
Tell me you want my fingers fucking your ass while my cock is buried
between your thighs.”
“Yes, I do. I want more, please. I want you everywhere.”
When she came down hard on him again, Dante plunged the two fingers
knuckle deep into her ass. He matched the beat of his fingers fucking her
ass with the way she took him. Spreading the digits wide to stretch and fill
her with him, he felt both her holes clamp around him so tightly he closed
his eyes, arched against the chaise and groaned her name.
Catrina screamed her bliss high into the air, his name following right
after. Her thighs quaked with her orgasm as she fell forward to catch herself
with her palms to the chaise. Dante released her hair, rubbing his hand up
her side to calm Catrina. Her breaths came fast, lifting her shoulders with
each one. She was sweat-slicked, her curls a tangled mess from his
handling, and the sweetest flush covered her from the back of her neck to
the bottom of her spine.
“Again,” she demanded.
“Oh, we’re not done yet,” Dante promised darkly.
Catrina whimpered when his dick jerked inside her pussy, still hard and
wanting more.
Dante lifted her from his length before she could protest, cradled her in
his arms, and headed toward the suite bedroom that was his. He tossed her
on the bed, letting her fall over the beautiful lace wedding dress she had
been to adamant he not ruin.
Immediately, she widened her legs for him, showing off her sex as her
hands fisted into the gown. She didn’t seem to care she was snagging the
lace, or that her arousal was likely seeping into the fabric. No, Catrina just
pushed her chest up, showcasing pink, hard nipples and baring teeth in her
sinful little smile.
“Yeah,” Dante said, climbing onto the bed between her thighs. “We’re
not even close to being fucking done.”
•••
Dante’s body felt like it had been through one hell of a workout.
Memories of the night before flooded his mind and he laughed deeply, as he
supposed it had been with Catrina.
Good God, the girl could fuck. And she tasted like candied sin on his
tongue.
His dick hardened under his thin cotton pants at the thought of her body
on his all over again. He wanted to do that again. Soon preferably.
Tossing the sheets off his body, Dante pushed out of bed, cracking his
spine and neck in the process. Catrina wasn’t in bed with him, but that
didn’t strike a nerve. Chances were, with the way that woman’s mind was
always going, she was already up and moving around the suite.
Sure enough, Dante found her resting across the chaise where she’d
ridden him the night before. His throat tightened, threatening to quiet his
words as he gazed at the beautiful sight of her spread across the tan leather,
long, shapely legs bared and crossed at the ankles, wearing nothing but his
dress shirt again.
She looked fucking perfect.
Catrina offered him a smile when she noticed him standing in the
doorway of the common space between the two bedrooms. Her manicured
nails with their embedded crystals waved at him, reminding him of what
those felt like clawing down his back.
Dante barely managed to suppress the shiver trying to roll down his
spine. “Morning, kitten.”
“Morning.”
“You’re quite a sight sitting there like that.”
Catrina laughed. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
“I was considering what to order for breakfast.”
“Well, you look mighty fucking fine doing it.”
Catrina waved between them, never moving from her spot on the chaise.
“Can we pretend like last night never happened?”
Dante mulled her words over before giving any kind of reaction. Last
night had come from need, not because either of them had planned it. He
had suspected she might feel this way come morning and he didn’t fault her
for it. Their deal was still the same regarding the marriage. Even if Dante
wanted something physical again from Catrina, she had to want it, too.
“Is that what you want, Cat?”
“Yes.”
“That might be easier said than done, what with you sitting there like
that, wearing nothing but my dress shirt and looking like you do.”
Catrina’s lips arched scandalously.
“And that, too,” Dante added, his cock twitching to life all over again.
“I can’t change who I am.”
“This downright fucking sinful looking woman sitting across the way
from me, you mean.”
Catrina shivered and satisfaction filled him to the brim. She was one
stubborn woman and that was her biggest goddamn problem. “Don’t make
it harder than it needs to be, okay?”
Dante swallowed his pride. “Yeah, okay. What in the hell were you
thinking last night, doing that with me if this is what you were going to
do?”
“I thought that I wanted you and for the night, I did. I always take what
I want, Dante.”
That was cold. Dante wished he could be surprised.
“We were good, though,” Catrina murmured softly.
“Business and pleasure,” Dante said, saying what she clearly wouldn’t.
“It’s not good at all.”
•••
Dante examined the bottle of lotion that had taken up residence on his
bathroom sink. There was a similar one in the shower. The label told him it
was some kind of organic body lotion that was supposed to smell like
strawberries or some shit. The pale pink color of the label had a frilly
design around the edges and fancy script lettering spelled out the name.
Where did females find this sort of crap? Why couldn’t they be like men
and wash their hair with the same product they used to clean their bodies?
Dante didn’t understand. Seemed like a giant waste of space, money, and
time to him.
Why Catrina felt the need to stock his bathroom full of her girly
nonsense, he wasn’t sure. There was another bathroom that wasn’t
connected to the master bedroom, and since they weren’t even sleeping in
the same bed together, he couldn’t figure out why in the fuck she was
putting this stuff in his space.
Being married meant Dante needed to suck it up and share. He didn’t
share very well, but he was learning. Catrina didn’t give him much of a
choice, really. Most of the space inside the large condo now had Catrina’s
things mingled in with his, not that she had a lot to bring. She had
practically taken ownership of his kitchen and arguing with her over it only
left him with a raging headache. She could cook, thank fucking God, but
she was still crazy.
And not in a fun way.
Dante had lived eighteen years with a woman who was anal about her
kitchen to the point of insanity before he finally was able to move the hell
out—his goddamn mother. He hadn’t expected to be living with another
one.
Mostly, Catrina and Dante stayed out of one another’s way. Sure, they
had their moments, but who didn’t when two people went from living alone
to suddenly having a roommate. That they were married to, of course. So,
maybe not entirely the same thing, but close enough. It wasn’t like they
were fucking. That might make this whole damn thing easier if they were.
Dante’s mind drifted back to their wedding night. His slip with Catrina
… their mistake. Well, it might as well have never even happened with the
way they both acted around each other. Forgetting that it happened was
another thing altogether. Catrina was a passionate woman on a good day.
Defiant, a little difficult, argumentative enough to make Dante feel like he
was being challenged in a good way, but when he fucked her that night …
Cristo.
In bed, Catrina had made him feel like he owned every fucking inch of
her. Sex with her could quickly turn into an addiction Dante didn’t need. It
would only serve to fuck with his head. Better to leave that sleeping dog lie
than bring it out and beat it again.
Dante sighed, eyeing the bottle of lotion with as much inner hatred as he
could manage for the tiny ten ounce plastic jar. He wondered if this was a
battle he wanted to pick with Catrina or not. Popping the top open, he
squeezed the bottle gently and sniffed. It did smell like strawberries. Muted
strawberries with a hint of something rich and sweet, like maybe honey.
For a second time, Dante’s mind drifted back to their wedding night like
he couldn’t control his own damn thoughts. He could still taste her on his
tongue, feel the way she shivered, and hear her cries. He couldn’t remember
if she smelled like this lotion or not, but his cock twitched to life all the
same.
“What are you doing?”
Dante spun on his heel, nearly dropping the lotion in his hand. He came
face to face with an irritated Catrina. Her hands were fisted to her hips as
her gaze flicked between the bottle he held and his eyes.
“Looking at this shit in my bathroom,” Dante finally answered.
Wasn’t it obvious?
“It’s lotion, Dante. Surely you’ve seen it before.”
“Sure, but not in my bathroom.”
“That’s eighty dollars a bottle, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use it for
… whatever you were thinking of using it for.”
Dante blinked down at the pink crap. “Are you serious?”
“What?”
“This is eighty fucking dollars?”
“It’s a boutique brand, organic, and imported. Yes, it’s costly. So no, I
don’t want you using it to play with.”
“Play with—what are you going on about?” Dante asked, so confused
he didn’t know what to think.
“Exactly what I just said.”
“Do you mean use it to whack off with? Jesus Christ. I wasn’t going to
use it for anything and especially not that!”
“Mmm,” Catrina hummed, sounding like she didn’t believe him for a
minute.
Dante was still stuck thinking about the cost of the bottle. “It’s lotion
you rub on your skin, then wash off later, and you pay eighty dollars to do
that?”
Catrina stiffened. “Sì. Is there a point to this condemnation of my
personal products?”
“What, Nivea wouldn’t work just as well? You have to use something
that costs more than most people’s shoes? I’m aware I’ve got money to
blow whatever way I want to, and yeah, I’ve probably spent a lot of it in
ways others would consider stupid, but this seems totally ridiculous, Cat.
Eighty fucking dollars. Really?”
“Nivea doesn’t remind me of the way my sister used to eat her
strawberries with warm honey. When you find a cheaper brand that smells
the same and doesn’t cause my skin to break out into hives, feel free to
make me aware.”
Dante felt like an idiot and a jerk all rolled into one mess of a human
being. He also probably just crossed some kind of invisible line with his
new wife, and maybe he should apologize for it. Catrina spoke very little of
her family in Italy. In fact, he knew practically nothing but what he had
gained from his own background search. That wasn’t very much.
“I’m sorry,” Dante murmured. “Here, take it. I wasn’t doing anything,
just wondering why in the hell it was in here in the first place.”
Catrina snatched the bottle and put it back where Dante first found it.
“It’s in here because I live in this condo with you, Dante.”
“Fair enough, except this is the attached bathroom for the master
bedroom where I sleep and you don’t.”
“And the other bathroom doesn’t have a bathtub, only a standing
shower. I prefer to bathe, not shower.”
Dante hadn’t thought of that. “I’m not used to this at all.”
“Living with a woman? Yes, I can tell.”
“Cut me some slack,” Dante muttered, eyeing the frilly bottle of lotion
and wishing it would disappear from his personal space. “It’s only been two
weeks, Cat.”
“No, I don’t think I will. This was fun.”
Dante’s brow furrowed. “Fun?”
“Mmhmm. Watching you squirm, I mean. How often does that happen
for you? If I had to guess, not a lot.”
He sucked in a deep breath, willing his annoyance to leave. “Can’t you
bring things in with you and take them when you go?”
“Why? We both live here. It’s our home. You might as well get used to
me and my things, Dante.” Catrina turned to leave the bathroom, calling
over her shoulder, “And if you move your stuff to the other bathroom, I
figure I should let you know for your own benefit, my tampons are under
the sink.”
Dante choked on his shock.
How in the fuck did his brothers manage to move seamlessly from
living alone to suddenly having a woman in their home?
Those bastards made it look easy. This living together thing sucked.
Grumbling under his breath, Dante followed Catrina out of the
bathroom to her own bedroom down at the end of the hall. Dresses were
tossed over her bed, separated in piles by style and color.
He quickly learned there were certain things Catrina was overly peculiar
about. Cleaning was one, which he didn’t mind. Dante didn’t live in filth,
but he certainly didn’t need the twice a week maid he use to have, either.
Not with Catrina in the condo. Organization was another one of her quirks,
and he was starting to wonder if she had just a slight touch of OCD. So far,
he managed to keep her out of his room.
Because hell, it was his damn room.
Finally, Catrina’s rabid nature about the kitchen. Dante wouldn’t go into
that again.
“You still haven’t gotten your closet organized, yet?” Dante asked.
Catrina glanced at him over her shoulder, her brow furrowing in the
cutest way. “Yes.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“I need to pick a dress, bello. I have a process. Mind your business. I
don’t judge how you pick out your clothes.”
Dante barked out a laugh. “Yes, you do! Just yesterday you bitched that
my dresser drawers are a mess and that I wear too much black with white.
This morning you muttered that I didn’t have enough shoes for the size of
my wardrobe.”
“Well, you do wear too much black with white and you need more
shoes. And your dresser drawers are a shame. You should let me fix that.”
Dante blew out a puff of air. Yes, living with another person, especially
Catrina Marcello, was nothing short of migraine inducing. “No. Absolutely
not. It’s my room, Cat.”
“Your mother would be appalled.”
“My mother already is, but because she doesn’t live with me anymore,
she keeps quiet.”
“Yes, but I do live with you, so …”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Did you need something?” Dante asked.
“Why?”
“You came and found me in my bathroom. You must have wanted
something.”
“Oh,” Catrina said, smiling brilliantly. “Yes, we’re having dinner with
your brothers and their wives later. Pick a blue tie. I just have to pick a blue
dress I like.”
Since when were they having dinner?
Dante didn’t bother to ask. He had other things on his mind. “Speaking
of a dinner.”
“Yes, what about it?”
“No, not tonight. In two weeks. Carl Calabrese and his wife finally
agreed to a sit-down with us.”
Catrina raised a brow high, as if she were contemplating something.
“Can we choose the restaurant?”
“What does that matter?”
She shrugged. “Just because.”
“Yes, I suppose we could being the dominating family.”
“Okay. And I meant to mention it, but you’ve been gone a lot this
week.”
“Mention what?”
“I have to take a trip out to LA in a few weeks for a couple of days.
Gaetano and Pao have been there smoothing the details for a few clients and
working alongside a new girl out there.”
Dante took note of how Catrina refused to look at him as she spoke.
“Does it bother you that there’s another girl doing your work?”
“Not really. I have other things to attend to right now.”
Yeah, like complaining about the state of his drawers and his lack of
shoes.
“Why are you flying out, then?” Dante asked.
“Make sure everything is on the up and up. There’s also an issue or two
with the supply and demand chain that I’d like to personally make sure is
handled, you know.”
Dante did. Being the boss of his own operation meant he understood her
need to control the details.
“I might be able to take a couple of days off to—”
Catrina spun on her heel, facing him. “I’ve already told you that my
work isn’t like yours. Where you can fit me in, I can’t for you.”
“A vacation would be nice,” Dante muttered. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, plan one.”
Chapter Nine
Cat surveyed the five crates as Giovanni stuck a crowbar under the top
of one and began to pry. Wood cracked as the nailed down tops gave way to
the metal and the man’s strength. Crossing her arms, Cat stood back in
silence. Usually her men would handle a shipment of product when it came
in, but since Gaetano and Pao had left the city, she was left to do this
herself.
Giovanni overturned the wood cap on the crate, letting it crash to the
floor. He pulled handfuls of dry hay from inside, tossing it aside as well.
Finally, after two minutes of pulling out the filler for the shipment, he
pulled out a five-inch thick by eight-inch long brick wrapped in cellophane
and duct tape.
Digging more, Giovanni shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he
was seeing. “Shit, there’s got to be at least a couple mil in here.”
“Street value triples that,” Cat informed. “It’s always been a good
arrangement for me. It’s worked, anyway.”
Giovanni regarded her with a contemplative expression as he rested his
arm over the side of the shipping crate. “Where did you used to have the
shipments sent to?”
“Wherever I was for the month,” she replied. “We always managed.”
“And the supplier?”
“An old friend.”
“That’s helpful.”
Shrugging, she said, “Our business crossed paths once or twice in Italy.
I helped him out of a scrape once and he’s been good to me ever since.”
“If I ask what kind of scrape, would you tell me?”
Cat smirked. “You’re awfully curious about me for being a man who
thinks women are useless in your business.”
“I never said that,” Giovanni corrected sharply. “Women can be twice as
dangerous as men because you never suspect them, and they’re a hell of a
lot more ruthless when it comes to getting what they want. Cosa Nostra
doesn’t believe in involving women. I don’t mind working with a woman
outside of that.”
“You’re working with me now.”
“It’s beneficial,” he said like that explained it all.
“And I’m your brother’s wife.”
“That, too. Although, there’s not much to see there, huh?”
Cat glanced away, refusing to dignify that with a response. Besides, she
was trying to forget her weakness a month ago on her wedding night as it
was. That was terribly fucking difficult to do when every inch of her
remembered what Dante felt like touching her, tasting her, and fucking her
like he had.
Difficult. Right.
Downright impossible was more like it.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Giovanni pointed out. “About your
supplier.”
“Someone I knew was planning to come in on him for his influence in
the trade there. They thought he had too much control and wasn’t offering
out power to those who felt they deserved it for their influence. Since he
was also hiding some of my extra activities as I had no other access to the
product but him, I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Why would you need to hide anything?”
“I worked for someone else while doing my own business. It could have
gotten me killed. You ask too many questions.” There were parts of Cat’s
past that needed to stay there and that was one of them. “Do the bricks look
clean, or what?”
“Clean enough. I’ll break a few open and check the color for purity, but
it looks like it’s all here in this one. Do you want to stay for the rest?”
Cat checked her watch, sighing. “No, I have dinner in thirty with
Dante.”
“Mmm, the Calabrese sit-down. Try to be good, Cat.”
She smiled slightly. Giovanni probably didn’t even realize he was
beginning to like her.
“Men are easy, Gio. It’s the women I have trouble with.”
“Like my mother.”
“For one,” she said under her breath.
“Invite Cecelia to dinner at your place,” Giovanni said, pulling more
bricks from the crate. “Let her cook it with you. You’ve only been in her
domain, right? Welcome her into yours. Trust me, it’ll work. Or help, at
least.”
“Thanks.”
Giovanni chuckled. “She’s still pretty prickly about the whole marriage
thing even after a month of you two tying the knot, so maybe wait another
month or so to let her cool down. She doesn’t like it when her sons don’t
want her opinions or when she feels like we don’t need her anymore.”
“Italian mothers and their boys.” Cat smiled. “I’ll take it into
consideration … in a month, or so.”
“Yeah, well, I know it’s fucking hard on my brother to feel like his
mother hates his wife, so …”
Men sucked at emotions. Maybe that was why Cat got along better with
men than females. She didn’t push Giovanni to say more, knowing he
probably didn’t want to.
“Pass me down two of those bricks, would you?”
“Sure.”
Giovanni tossed the heavy blocks of packaged coke into Cat’s waiting
hands. Without explaining her motives, she shoved them into her large
purse. She preferred clutches, but since she had things to take care of
tonight involving the blow import that came in the day before, she opted for
the monstrous thing she toted around.
“Thanks. Don’t play with the product too much, Gio.”
“Have fun and smile,” Giovanni called after Cat as she walked through
the warehouse.
She flipped him the bird behind her back.
The bastard just laughed.
Goddamn Marcellos.
•••
“That asshole,” Dante growled, turning his cellphone off.
“What?” Lucian asked.
Dante’s fists clenched at his sides, turning his back to Cat. “Take Jordyn
and go home.”
“No,” Lucian replied. “That’s not how this was arranged to go down.”
As Cat didn’t understand what changed over the course of a phone call
to warrant Dante’s unknown new plan and anger, she chose to stay quiet.
“Seriously, take her and go. Carl is bringing his mistress along, not his
wife.”
Lucian flinched. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
“What’s the problem?” Jordyn asked, digging for the information Cat
was curious about as well.
“It’s disrespectful to bring a goomah to a meeting when the other side
brings their wife. It’s like saying mine or Lucian’s wife is only worth to him
what his mistress is.” Dante cussed lowly, adding, “I can’t believe he did
that to me.”
“Me, either.”
“He never would have pulled shit like that on Antony,” Dante hissed.
“So, make sure after tonight he knows not to pull it on you again,” Cat
said.
“What about Catrina?” Lucian asked.
Dante glanced at Cat over his shoulder. “What do you think, dolcezza?”
She appreciated the fact he even asked for her input on this.
“Carl’s never met me and he didn’t show at the wedding, right?”
“No.”
“Is his awful son coming along?” Cat asked.
“Not that I know of,” Dante answered. “Why?”
Cat slipped her wedding rings off and handed them to Dante. After
getting a hair elastic from Jordyn, she piled the hair on the top of her head
to give the effect of a messy updo styled bun.
“Does someone have gum?” Cat asked.
Lucian eyed her warily before pulling out a pack of peppermint flavored
gum. She took it with a smile and popped two into her mouth, smacking
loudly as she chewed.
“Wow,” Dante mumbled, cringing.
“Whole new woman, babe.”
Dante’s gaze widened. Cat had lost her thick accent like nothing and
with a bat of her lashes, a different hairstyle and an attitude change to make
her seem airless, no one would know the difference.
Well, so long as they didn’t know her.
“Does this work, hon?” Cat asked, smirking. “I can be just about
whoever you need me to be.”
Dante cleared his throat. “As long as you don’t bring it home with you.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“Sweet Christ,” Lucian said faintly. “Who did you marry?”
“I’m still not sure, man.”
Cat grabbed Dante’s arm, tugging on his suit jacket. “Let’s go have
dinner.”
•••
“Dante, my boy,” Carl greeted as Dante stood from their semi-private
booth. “How’ve you been?”
“Can’t complain,” Dante replied with an easy smile.
Cat knew, behind that smile, her husband was pissed and planning, but
she said nothing. She gave the woman wearing a tight red dress with a
neckline that plunged too far down and a very short hem a once-over. Not
forgetting her role, Cat offered the woman a brilliant smile, still smacking
her gum.
Dante waved at the woman, but didn’t offer his hand. Cat suspected if
she were Carl’s wife, he would have. “This is not Cynthia.”
“No, this is Felicia.”
“Again, not your wife.”
Carl shifted on his feet. “Yes, well—”
“Well, what?” Dante demanded quietly.
“I wasn’t sure I wanted to expose my wife to …” The man trailed off,
waving at Cat in the back of the booth.
“My wife, you mean?” Dante asked.
“In a way, yes. I’ve been told she’s an interesting character, to be sure,
but she isn’t one I want my wife mingling with.”
Dante flashed his teeth in a sneer. “Since my wife isn’t here tonight, I
don’t think we have to worry about that, do we?”
Carl’s gaze snapped back and forth between Cat and Dante rapidly. “But
—”
Cat stuck out her hand, wiggling her fingers enticing. With not a hint of
her Italian accent, she said, “Very nice to meet you. You can call me Tess.”
Seemed like a good enough name in Cat’s opinion.
Carl took her hand, squeezing it gently before he released it. “I thought
for sure your wife would be coming, Dante.”
“She’s busy doing what it is that she does. Last minute flight out of the
city to LA.”
“And this fine woman is …?”
“I told you, I’m Tess,” Cat repeated, playing dumb, though she knew
what the man was asking.
Carl laughed, giving Cat a wink. “No, sweetheart, I meant to Dante.
What are you to him?”
“You know what she is,” Dante said, smirking. “She agreed to come
along with me tonight. Sit, Carl. And your lady friend, of course.”
Once the two had taken their seats, a waiter came and did the booth’s
order. Cat continued keeping her role in check, giggling stupidly over the
quiet conversation between the men and dancing her fingers suggestively
over Dante’s arm and shoulder.
Really, she might as well have been mimicking the woman’s actions
across from her. It seemed as though the character Cat chose to play wasn’t
all that far off from the real life thing.
Dante barely paid Cat any attention while she went on with her games,
but she understood that, too. Women used by men for the purpose of sex
and little else were meant to be candy for the eye and a hole to fill. She
certainly wouldn’t garner the attention or respect a proper wife would but
the man always took care of his mistress. So was the way of goomahs. Just
like how both Cat and the woman Carl had brought along completely
ignored the men as they discussed their wives.
As Carl sipped from a rum and coke, he said to Dante, “I heard you and
my Matty had a run in on your birthday.”
“That was nearly two months ago,” Dante replied, unbothered. “I’ve
forgotten about it.”
“Good, good.”
Dante’s gaze snapped up, meeting the man’s. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”
“Well, it’d just be unfortunate for our families to be fighting over
something as petty as a wife, that’s all. Especially one like Catrina.”
“Wives aren’t a petty thing, certainly not mine.”
Cat poked her husband’s shoulder playfully. “That’s not what you said
last night.”
“Shush,” Dante murmured without even passing her a look.
She pouted, but quieted like he told her to.
“They can certainly be petty things,” Dante continued, shrugging. “I
mean, look at yours.”
Carl coughed on a swallow of his drink. “I beg your pardon?”
Dante straightened in the booth. “It’s like this. If you’re going to take
cheap shots at my wife, regardless of whether she’s here or not, simply
because she’s a woman in a profession you think should belong to a man,
then I don’t mind taking a hit or two at yours.”
“I never said—”
“You don’t have to, Carl. Your attitude is more than enough.”
Carl scowled. “Your father would be terribly ashamed of your attitude,
Dante.”
Dante matched the man’s expression with a cold scoff. “My father isn’t
here, and he’s not running the show anymore. You’ll do damn well to
remember that from here on out.”
The conversation dulled after that to practically nothing at all. Much to
Cat’s surprise, Dante turned his attention to her once the food was served to
the table. Instead of ignoring her silly notions like before, he fed into them,
including feeding her tiny bites of food. Cat played along with his game,
smiling demurely when his fingers ticked under her chin in a sweet gesture
or even when he kissed the corner of her mouth.
“Well,” Carl drawled, bringing Dante’s focus back to the table and off
Cat, “… I’m glad you’re aware of my disapproval on your wife. Or at the
very least, your willingness to allow her to mingle in business. Our families
have worked together—we still do in some aspects—on many things,
Dante. I will not have a woman infiltrating my men.”
“Why? Scared that her womanly ways might corrupt your men?” Dante
asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “She doesn’t have a bag of fucking
pussy dust she’s tossing around, asshole. She’s just a woman, one that
happens to be very good at her job. You don’t have to approve. It’s not your
family.”
Cat barely held back her snort. Her respect for Dante climbed a notch or
two.
Anger flashed in Carl’s eyes. “Cosa Nostra doesn’t allow women in.”
“She’s not in; she’s providing a source of revenue. It’s not the same
thing.”
Before the man could respond, Dante’s phone started ringing in his
pocket. He pulled the device out, checked the caller ID and frowned.
“I have to take this.” Dante passed Cat a look. “You’ll be okay for a
minute, yeah?”
“Sure, hon.”
Dante left the booth as Felicia excused herself to the ladies room. That
left Cat alone at the table with Carl. The way he stared her up and down had
her skin crawling. Without a word, he slid down the booth until they were
side by side.
“Tell me, sweetheart, what’s a beautiful thing like you doing messing
around with a man like Dante Marcello?”
Cat smiled. “Is he all that different from you?”
“Well, that depends on how you look at it. They say age makes all the
difference to experience.”
Cat disagreed. Carl had at least thirty-years on her husband, an aging
body with extra weight he could afford to lose, and a creep factor that
reminded Cat of his son she met months ago.
When his hand slid onto her knee and moved higher, Cat’s role playing
was done. She removed his hand with a snap, slamming the appendage into
his chest before he could react. At the same time, she pulled her favorite
knife from the sheath at her inner thigh. Cat didn’t have to move a whole lot
in the booth to make her point. She simply turned enough to hide her
motions under the table and drove the edge of the blade into his groin as her
fingernails dug into his throat. No need to scare the poor restaurant goers.
Cat’s accent was back as she whispered, “Very nice to meet you, Carl
Calabrese. If you put your hands on my body again, I will make sure my
husband gets the pleasure of cutting them off before he shoves them straight
up your ass.”
Carl choked on nothing as Cat drove her knife harder into his slacks.
“Shit—”
“Seems to me, your son’s behavior is a learned trait. One he clearly
picked up from you. And here I was thinking Cosa Nostra men knew how
to properly treat a woman. Don’t worry, I’m not offended at your
disapproval of me, or even your disgusting character, because we both
know the truth, don’t we?”
“You little bitch,” he spat.
“That truth, Carl … is how appallingly intimidated you are by me.”
“And you should be,” Dante said from behind Cat. “Let him go before
someone walks around the partition and sees, dolcezza.”
Reluctantly, as she was quite enjoying the shock and fear in Carl’s eyes,
Cat released the man. She slid out of the booth, unafraid he might come
back on her. Dante reached inside his suit jacket and openly pulled out a
brick of the cocaine Cat had given him earlier for the sit-down. He tossed
the brick to the table before leaning over it and grabbing on Carl’s tie.
Dante yanked the man forward until he was leaning over the table as
well and they were face to face. “That right there is grade-A blow supplied
by my wife who you so easily dismiss because she is a woman. It comes cut
with nothing, and because of the cheap cost to import it, the selling price is
enough to have it flying off the streets.”
“What is your point?” Carl wheezed.
“Take the blow and run with it,” Dante ground out, his fist grasping
tighter to the man’s tie. “I’ll even give you and the fucking Donati family—
because I know those bastards are in a fit about Catrina, too—all the
contacts they need to keep a good supply on hand.”
Carl coughed on his laughter. “What is this, Dante?”
“I’ll give you access to this, and I’ll even overlook your disgraceful
actions tonight and your behavior toward my wife …”
“For what?”
“For your word at the Commission and the promise you will never
speak out against my wife again, not in business or privately. Is that
understood?”
“I—”
“Let me make myself very clear,” Dante said, not relenting his hold for
a second. “If you refuse any of this, I will tear through your streets and rid
New York of your name in a week. And if you think I can’t get away with it
or that I don’t have the power to see it through, go on and test me.”
“You have my word,” Carl said low.
Dante smiled a cruel sight. “Good.”
“Bello,” Cat said, tapping her heel to the floor.
Dante let the man go and stood, fixing his jacket. “Yes, Cat?”
“I want a drink.”
“Let’s go to the restaurant bar, Amore. I hear they make those apple
martini things you like pretty damn well.” Dante gave Carl a single nod.
“We’ll be off, Carl. What my wife wants, she gets. Have a good night.”
•••
Dante’s hands slid into Cat’s hair as the bartender readied their drinks.
She let him pull the awful bun out, shaking her hair around her shoulders to
reset the curls. Laughing all the while, Dante held out a napkin for her to
spit the gum into.
“Never wear your hair like that again, kitten.”
Cat hid the way the pet name reminded her of their wedding night, but
barely. “It’s not really my style, anyway.”
“Mmm, I like your curls down.”
“I know.”
“You were fucking perfect,” he said, smiling wide.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d have kept it going, but he crossed a line when he tried to feel me
up.”
“I don’t expect you to take any kind of shit from a man just because he’s
made in the family or even a boss, for that matter. Stand your ground,
Catrina. Always.”
“You know I will,” she replied.
Dante chuckled. “Of course.”
Cat fell into easy conversation with her husband, almost like they were
old friends. Their quiet laughter filled the bar as they chatted and drank. A
sense of comfort seeped into Cat’s blood steam the longer they sat there
together.
“Do you think we’ll have to do this again for the Donati family?” Cat
asked.
Dante shook his head, putting his whiskey glass to the bar top. “No,
they’re much easier to handle than the Calabrese family and smarter, too.
Carl will pass along the word, and we’ll get confirmation of their
agreement, but little else.”
“Good. I know you’re worried about the Commission.”
What Dante did explain of the upcoming meeting in a couple of months
made her involvement in business tricky for her husband. This dinner
tonight had been one more duck lining up in their favor.
“It’ll be fine. Drink, bella.”
Cat did, slipping back into conversation with Dante about other things
easily. While they talked, she kept her eye on the restaurant floor, watching
the guests coming in and out and being directed to their tables by the
Maître’D.
Finally, someone Cat recognized and had been waiting for was escorted
to one of the semi-private tables near the back of the restaurant. She wasn’t
sure if the man had seen her, but she was able to catch a glimpse of his
profile as he sat down at his table.
Cat placed her hand to Dante’s wrist, drawing him from his thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“You weren’t the only one with business here tonight, Dante. And now I
have to go take care of it.”
His brow furrowed. “You’re going to have to explain that, Cat.”
She pointed out her client at the back. The recognition came to Dante’s
eyes almost instantly.
“I had an ulterior motive for asking to choose the restaurant tonight, you
see. I knew he was going to be in town and this is how most of our
meetings usually go. In a public, but private place, a quick meeting, and
then a goodbye until the next time.”
Dante still seemed stunned. “That’s …”
“Well, his father did just win a second term,” Cat said offhandedly. “I’m
surprised his men in black aren’t on him like white on rice tonight. They’re
probably all over the outside. You know how the Secret Service is.”
“The President’s son, Cat, really?” Dante forced out. “Don’t you think
that’s a little like juggling fire?”
“Not all of my clients are in that book, Dante. For obvious reasons like
Travis Johnston’s delicate situation.”
“The Presi—”
“Yes, and I have to go. The longer I leave him waiting, the more likely
someone is to really take notice of his presence and our exchange. I’ll be
right back.”
Dante nodded and Cat left the bar. She crossed the room quickly with
her bag in hand, smiling when her oncoming presence caught Travis’ eye.
The man stood, ever the gentleman, at her appearance.
“Don’t you look good, Queen,” Travis greeted.
“Smooth talker. We both know I always look like this.”
Travis laughed. “Even in the midst of sleep, hmm?”
“So the rumor goes.”
Looking over her shoulder, Travis said, “I noticed you had a man with
you. I never knew you to bring along guests, Queen.”
“Catrina,” Cat said softly. “Tonight, you can call me Catrina.”
Travis’ cheery smile fell. “What is this?”
Cat placed her bag under the table. She’d already removed her personal
effects earlier from it. “Take it to the bathroom and you’ll find the brick
inside. Same amount as always.”
“Cat—”
“That man is my husband,” Catrina interrupted quietly.
Travis passed another look in Dante’s direction. “He looks familiar.”
“He should. He is Dante Marcello.”
Instinctively, Travis took a step back from Cat. She expected that
subconscious reaction to the news of her being married to a man who was
well known in New York, not to mention his involvement with Cosa Nostra.
“Catrina,” Travis said, his words a harsh, angry whisper. “You’re
putting me in a world of dan—”
“I haven’t put you in any more danger of being seen than I ever have,
trust me. I would never do that, but I’m aware my position as that man’s
wife absolutely puts me in a spotlight, now.”
Because of that, she would lose client after client. Just like Travis.
It was worth it, though.
“There’s a contact in the bag, Travis,” Cat said. “Ask for Gaetano. He
will direct you to a girl who will take my place with no one any wiser.”
Travis seemed as stunned as her husband had earlier, only for different
reasons. She supposed the friendships she had forged with a few of her
clients, ones like Travis, would hurt the men a bit when they ended. No,
there had never been anything beyond business and a chat or two, but it was
still a relationship each valued.
And it was reaching its course.
“You’re giving a lot up for a man, Catrina. That doesn’t seem like you
at all.”
“I suppose not.”
“Why?”
“Power,” she replied.
Chapter Ten
“I thought I heard something back here.”
Dante’s shoulders tensed at Catrina’s quiet voice. Four months into their
marriage and he could count on one hand the amount of times he heard
Catrina speak like she just had. Maybe because it was so unlike her to be
soft-spoken, especially where he was concerned. She was fiery—feisty,
even—and he liked that about her, even if she did drive him nine ways to
crazy most days.
If nothing else, he knew he managed to find a good partner for a wife.
Someone who made him competitive, but only to better himself. A woman
whose strength and worth didn’t need to be determined by his praises and
acceptance. She had become a friend of sorts to him and most definitely a
confidant.
Those qualities were rare—beautiful, actually. They also turned him on
like nothing else, but their agreement was clear. The marriage was business.
She didn’t want a lover. Intimacy would ruin the very delicate balance they
had achieved together as it was.
“Dante?”
He cleared his throat, turning on his heel to find Catrina standing in the
doorway of his office. “Yeah?”
“It’s like … one in the morning.”
“No rest for the wicked, Cat.”
She grinned.
“Mmm, but this doesn’t look all too wicked,” Catrina said, nodding at
the boards set up around the office. “This looks like work.”
“I do more than sell drugs, traffic guns, and extort money, Cat.”
“I know.”
Catrina sighed, dropping her arms to her side as she took a step into the
room. The cream colored silk robe she wore did little to hide her shapely
legs, considering it came to a stop mid-thigh. Dante’s gaze traveled over her
hourglass figure. The black sash cinched at her waist made her trim shape
more prominent. Even sleepy and her sleek, red hair mussed from tossing in
bed, she actually looked as though she’d been rolling in the sheets with
someone.
Catrina was a beautiful woman, and Dante found it harder every day to
ignore his building desire. Control was his middle name—one this woman
stripped away with just the barest graces of her attention.
Like now.
Dante licked his lips and turned back to the boards he was surveying
before Catrina’s interruption. “These are a few choices in development
plans I’ve been working on.”
“This is real estate development,” Catrina said.
“Yeah. I like to own things. The more I own, the more control I have.
The more control, the more power. Because control and power are not the
same. They may seem like it, but they’re not. The Marcellos dominate the
board in a lot of things, but it’s only just started to occur to me it’s actually
my father who dominates. He owns the properties, the businesses, and so
on. He has the power, and that leaves us nowhere when he’s gone.”
“What am I missing here?” Catrina asked, coming to stand at Dante’s
side. “I feel like there’s something you’ve left out.”
Dante chuckled. “A couple of weeks before we met, my father fired
me.”
Catrina’s head whipped around so she could stare at him, her brow
furrowing. “What? Fired you? But, you’re his son and it’s Marcello
Industries. Right?”
“I know. That was my first reaction, too. Essentially, that’s what he did.
Fired me. Paid out my shares in Marcello Industries though I didn’t take the
money. And I won’t. Even if he tries to force it on me eventually, I’ll donate
it. It seemed really pointless for me to take the money and start my own
thing like he wanted if the money had actually just been given to me from
the start as an inheritance, right?”
“I get that.”
“I have money,” Dante explained, waving at his office but really
meaning his condo as a whole. “Obviously, I have money. The money that
bought this condo, my vehicles, and anything else I have did not come from
my father in the end. It came from me working my ass off for years. Both
on the legal and the illegal side of things.
“Sure, I had a huge share in my father’s company, but I worked hours
and hours every day in an office just like any other person in that building.
And when I left that office, I had an entirely different job to do, too. I
thought …”
“What?” Catrina asked.
“I thought I was doing my own thing, but I wasn’t. It took my father
kicking me on my ass to realize I had simply been following his footsteps,
not making my own.”
“So, basically, he stripped you of your things by taking away what you
were using to identify who you were.”
“Exactly. And without things, I thought I had no control and therefore,
no power.”
“What made you realize you were wrong?”
Dante shrugged. “I’m still a Marcello. I’m always going to be a
Marcello. I just can’t be Antony Marcello. Once Marcello Industries is sold
to the highest bidder—it will happen eventually—I need to have power for
my family. As much as I can control, I will. Anything and everything that
can be bought so the Marcello name can be attached, I will do it.”
Catrina surveyed the real estate development plans once more. “So,
what’s all this about?”
“Slowly working back into the game, I suppose. The last few months,
I’ve been focused on this marriage and what that all meant. In the process, I
left this to the wayside in some aspects.”
“Oh?”
“In a way.” Dante sighed. “I have a meeting with a board of investors
tomorrow afternoon. When I left my father’s company, I left all I gained for
it behind. Well, except for a few things. My name, reputation, and all of my
contacts. The only reason I managed to get in on the meeting tomorrow is
because of my contacts.”
“You sound nervous. That isn’t like you at all.”
“It isn’t. But, it’s not just a meeting. It’s more like a bidding war
between rival companies for, well—” Dante waved at the white boards, his
plans on blueprints for Catrina to see. “—this. I don’t have the damn clout
without Marcello Industries backing me, but I did have the contacts, and it
might break my bank for a short time, but I’ve got the money.”
“A little risk is good for you. Playing things safe will get you nowhere,
Dante.”
“I’m aware.”
“And yet, you’re still nervous.”
“Because one of those companies I’ll be bidding against tomorrow is
my father’s. I’m almost certain he’ll be there. Especially knowing I will be,
too. He might own the company and have teams who can do this sort of
thing for him, but he’s always been hands-on with investors.”
Catrina fell silent.
“Am I allowed to be a little nervous, now?” Dante asked jokingly.
“Why would Marcello Industries need investor money?”
“Because they’re also an investor for many other smaller companies.
It’s likely they’re involved in this plan for development through a thirdparty and are acting on behalf of them. Chances are, Marcello Industries
would own a small portion of the contract, the third-party would own the
same percentage or slightly larger, and then the investor gets their slice
based on the amount of money signed over and the contract worth.”
“Seems simple,” Catrina said, rolling her eyes. “Not.”
“He’s not going to let me just have it,” Dante continued quietly.
“Antony Marcello doesn’t give anything to anyone without making them
bleed, sweat, and beg for it. I’ve witnessed him in bidding wars against
other companies. He’s relentless.”
“You’ve never been the one across from him, I take it.”
“Nope. Why would I? I worked for him.”
“I think you might be making yourself nervous for no good reason.”
Dante cocked a single brow, eyeing Catrina from the side. “Did you
hear what—”
“I’m a woman, not deaf. I realize la famiglia doesn’t look highly on
women in business, so you likely believe you’re always right being a man,
but in this case, you’re not, Dante.”
Ah, there she was. Claws and all.
“What did your father tell you when he fired you?” Catrina asked.
“To challenge him, rival him, and surpass him but not to be him.”
“Well, that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Confusion settled in Dante. “Actually, I haven’t had the chance to do
much where my father is concerned.”
“You’re going against his company tomorrow. That’s certainly a
challenging stance to take. Beyond that, if you succeed in getting the
investors’ cash added to yours, these plans on the boards look as though
Marcello Industries might have one hell of a rival in real estate
development. Especially considering you’re a much smaller company as of
now.”
“It’s work though, Cat, not la famiglia.”
“But it’s yours, Dante. Not his.”
“True,” he conceded quietly.
“I meant to ask before, but forgot. Now seems a good time. How old
was your father when he took over the family as Don?”
“He was in his early thirties.”
“And you’re twenty-nine, Dante. Already you are surpassing him in
certain aspects. That’s not to say you don’t have a great deal more to do,
and your reputation in your family will grow the longer you hold power, but
he also took years to make his name stand above others. So will you.”
Catrina turned to face Dante, smiling as she poked him in the stomach
playfully. “You’re creating your own footsteps, Dante. The longer you
walk, the more prominent they’ll be.”
Dante smirked. “I don’t tell you this often, but thank you.”
“I don’t need you to tell me it.”
“I know,” Dante murmured. “You don’t seek approval. It’s one of the
things I like best about you.”
Catrina fell silent, her green gaze flicking away from Dante’s. But
before she had, he saw it in her eyes. The barest hint of indecision. A
wavering in her emotions. There was only one other moment he witnessed
that from her. Their wedding night; the one time she let him have her. The
memory of her beneath him—the only one he had—never really left the
back of his mind.
Dante couldn’t help but remembering her words: People like us, we’re
not supposed to feel. We don’t get attached. It ruins us. Together, we’ll be
the perfect pair. Together, we have nothing to lose.
The longer he knew Catrina, the harder those words were to believe.
“You should go back to bed, Catrina,” Dante said, turning back to stare
at his plans.
“I—”
“No, you should go. You make it difficult for me to concentrate. I make
it hard for you to be ... well, you.”
Let her make of that what she wanted. It was the only olive branch
Dante would hand to her.
“You really do, Dante.” Then, Catrina reached out and snagged his
pinky with her own, connecting them for a brief second. Standing on her
tiptoes, she pressed a quick kiss to the underside of his jaw. “And I don’t
know if I like it or not.”
Dante froze, unsure of what to do.
Catrina didn’t give him a chance to figure something out. She left his
office and closed the door behind her without a word.
•••
Dante’s fists pressed hard into the top of the long oak table, his anger
rising. At the other end, his father sat cool and unruffled. More than
anything, that pissed Dante off the most.
Out of three companies chosen to present their offers and plans to the
board of investors, only Empire Developments and Marcello Industries
remained. The third company bowed out gracefully after learning the other
two companies had undercut their total amount by nearly twenty-five
percent.
Dante and Antony, however, were nearly matched in costs and
prospective payouts.
“Empire Developments is new to the game,” Antony said calmly,
flipping through a folder and giving it all of his attention. “So new, in fact,
they’ve not had time to fill their new offices with the appropriate work
force to manage the company.”
“It’s in progress,” Dante replied, somehow keeping his tone level. “And
if we consider these proposed plans are not expected to begin for another
thirteen months, Empire Developments has more than enough time to finish
the work needed on their end to meet the contract’s needs.”
“But, being as new as they are, will their contractors and personnel be
able to keep the contract’s timeline and budget when it does begin?”
Antony asked.
“That’s the …” Kaleb Trenton, an investor at the far end, glanced over
his paperwork, “… seventy-million dollar question, isn’t it? For every
month the contract goes beyond the deadline, we all lose out. Could it be
made back eventually? Sure. Unfortunately, I for one want the investment
to pay back as quickly as possible. Empire Developments is a huge risk on
that end.”
Dante released a slow breath, watching his father carefully. This
nonsense back and forth had been ongoing for two hours. He was tired and
pissed off.
“You have nothing to show for yourself,” Antony said, finally looking
up from his folder to stare at his son. “No proven numbers. No fulfilled
contracts. And, most importantly, no standing to give you weight against
the bigger players.”
Antony reached over and hit a few keys on his laptop. The projector
illuminated the wall with graphs of growth on the development side of their
company from Marcello Industries. “We, on the other hand, most certainly
do.”
Dante did a quick check of the numbers his father was showing off and
a grin began to form. Antony Marcello was getting ready to play dirty and
Dante knew it. He would swipe out at his rival and with every hit he landed,
a chuck of their reputation would be taken away in the investors’ eyes.
Dante knew this tactic. He witnessed his father do it one too many
times.
It was just too damn bad his father didn’t realize his mistake.
“Beautiful numbers,” Dante praised quietly.
“I certainly think so,” Antony replied. “Marcello Industries has worked
hard to keep them at a constantly profiting level. Care to show off yours?”
“I don’t have to.”
Antony’s gaze snapped to Dante’s. “Excuse me?”
The investors no longer mattered to Dante. They were either going to
give his company the contract or not. That was the name of the game.
Sometimes it was all about clout and reputation, and sometimes it was
about the ass you kissed and the names you knew.
Dante wasn’t kissing ass to get the contract. But his goddamn reputation
was up for everyone to see, now. Antony’s error put it right on display.
“I don’t have to pull out my numbers or show my more than proven
history for this board,” Dante said, gesturing at the same graphs his father
already had. “You did it for me.”
Dante stepped out from the table, moving to the wall. His index finger
pointed at the first show of substantial growth in developments on the
Marcello Industries chart.
“Here, that was my second year into the company working on real estate
developments exclusively. And as we go up in years,” Dante said, his finger
following the high red line, “… it only continued to grow. In fact, it doubled
year after year. There wasn’t once in five years where your profit line fell.
Not one contract was lost under me while working for the company.”
“You also had—”
Dante turned on his heel. “Oh, before you start talking about the
company who backed me, let me get that right out of the way for you.
Marcello Industries had an entire team behind me for this one portion of the
company. That team answered to me; they trusted me. I worked alongside
them in small offices, treated the team with the respect they deserved, and
never took sole credit for the achievements of the team. So much so, that a
few of them have even followed me to Empire Developments knowing the
company is still building in its first year, isn’t that correct?”
Antony’s jaw ticked. “To a certain degree.”
“There are no degrees, Mr. Marcello,” Dante said, giving his father a
look. “You taught me that. It either is, or it isn’t. We don’t play around with
the maybes.”
“It is, then.”
“Good, thank you for giving me that.” Dante went back to the
projection, eyeing the last year that was still undetermined on Marcello
Industries. “This is a little forward, no?”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Antony replied.
“This last year, it’s unfinished.”
“Of course, it is. It’s not completed yet. It’s merely a projection based
on contracts.”
Dante nodded. “Sure, but you’re including all, aren’t you?”
“I don’t appreciate word games,” Antony muttered.
“Let me make it clearer for you. Your development accounting team has
included all contracts beginning work this year, yet they forgot—
intentionally or not—to remove the highest paying contract intended to start
next month.”
“What—”
“The Curod contract,” Dante interrupted, glancing over his shoulder
with a cocked brow. “It’s a ninety-million dollar contract for Washington.
One I put over six months of time into developing for the proposal and took
less than thirty minutes to win in the board. Your team included this
contract even though Washington is still considering backing out, right?”
“Mr. Marcello?” Kaleb asked. “Is that true?”
“The contract is still in Marcello Industries' hands,” Antony said,
unaffected.
“But, only because Washington followed me to Empire Developments,
offered the contract as they wanted my name to stay on the bottom line, but
they had to return to your company. Why was that? Because I didn’t have
the funding, time to gather what they needed, and I was too honorable to
cause them loss in money even though they were willing to take the cut.
When you paid me out, you broke contract with them by getting rid of the
one person they wanted on that team. Isn’t that right?”
Antony’s arms crossed over his chest. “It is, but we still have the
contract.”
“You keep saying that. I don’t think it makes a difference.”
“To you, it wouldn’t.”
“How much profit are you going to have to give up to keep them?”
Dante asked, honestly curious.
Antony refused to answer.
Dante didn’t mind. “And while Marcello Industries is taking money
from a third-party as well as their own company’s bank for this proposal,
Empire Developments is taking the cash directly from a private account. I
might have a little work to do in order to get my company up to speed, but
rest assured, everything I have is in this proposal. Literally.”
Antony’s irritation was starting to show as he drummed his fingers
rapidly to the table. Dante didn’t relent.
“If Marcello Industries fails, it will be nothing to their bottom line. They
have nothing to lose in this. Therefore, their personal investment into the
contract can only be determined by the weight of their losses on a possible
failure. Empire Developments has everything to lose if the contract fails on
our end, so consequently we wouldn’t allow that to happen. At all.”
“Mr. Marcello?”
Both Antony and Dante broke their staring contest to give the middle
investor—Leigh Denor—their attention, but the man was only regarding
Antony.
“Do you have a rebuttal for that?” Leigh asked.
Antony couldn’t refute it. He didn’t have to say a word for Dante to be
aware.
“I think we have all we need to begin considerations on the proposal,”
Trina Sleen, the lone female investor, said. “No need to keep cutting at
throats here, even if the show is fantastic to watch. But, if I may say so,
well done, Empire Developments.”
Dante stared his father down. “I learned from the best.”
•••
“Cristo, something smells fucking amazing,” Dante said as he walked
into the condo.
Dante was maybe starting to get used to the fact he had no control in his
kitchen anymore. He quickly crossed the room and tried to grab one of the
fresh scones on the countertop.
Without even looking up from the bread she was kneading, Catrina
reached out, grabbed a wooden spoon, and cracked the back of his hand
with it. Hard.
Motherfucker that hurt. Dante hissed, hiding his hand from another
potential smack. “Cazzo! I paid for this kitchen, Cat. It’s mine.”
“Maybe, but I’m the only one between us who actually uses it. By
default, it now becomes mine. Stay out of my kitchen, Dante.”
“You’re awful.”
“I can be,” Catrina agreed. “Once the bread is done, you can eat.”
“But, I’m hungry now.”
“You should have thought of that when you refused breakfast this
morning. I bet you were far too busy to eat lunch, like I said you would be.”
Dante sighed, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to win the battle.
Catrina was ridiculously particular. “Did you get in contact with your men
in LA?”
“Yes, Gae would like to see me in a week. Things are getting sticky.”
A week? “Can’t someone else—”
Catrina stopped kneading the bread, cutting Dante with a look. “That’s
not how it goes. My supply and demand doesn’t work the same way yours
does, Dante. My clients are not your average user on the streets. They don’t
want whoever delivering their products, they want the queen. And so, they
have to pay accordingly for her. Private charted flights. Exclusive parties.
Politics. Major athletes. Hollywood names. Those are my game. They pay a
certain price for a certain kind of dealer. So, if Gae wants me out there to
smooth the waves for a couple of clients and check out the supply chain
while I’m at it, I will do that.”
“All right,” Dante said quietly. “I get it.”
That didn’t mean he had to fucking like it, though.
Catrina went back to kneading the bread. “You shouldn’t worry.”
“I’m not worrying.”
“Liar, you are and you shouldn’t. I’ve been doing this for over a
decade.”
“But you’re also my wife, Cat. You’re a bigger target, now. Especially
for officials or even someone who wants to piss me off. Which means the
game you played before isn’t going to work anymore. I’m considering
sending along an enforcer or two with you.”
Catrina froze. “Absolutely not.”
“Cat—”
“No, Dante. I don’t need enforcers, never mind the fact they would be
all in my business and my client’s. The answer is no. I can handle myself
just fine.”
“I’m aware of what you can do.”
Or mostly, anyway. Catrina and her fucking knives.
“I’m serious, do not send men to trail me. It could ruin the client’s trust
in my ability to stay invisible in their lives, and neither Gae nor Pao liked
having your men around while they were here. If you do send men without
my permission, I promise you will regret it.”
Dante blinked, stunned. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me, Dante.”
Dante felt his walls build up, defenses rising. “And just what in the hell
would you do, dolce ragazza?”
Catrina’s hazel eyes flashed with warning. “Only one of us would return
to New York.”
“You can’t kill my men.”
“There’s a difference between can’t and shouldn’t. I don’t care much for
rules, and my ability to kill has worked just fine for years. Neither of us
make empty promises, so let’s not start testing each other’s lines.”
She was serious. Dante didn’t understand this woman’s mindset to save
his life. His frustration level climbed up a notch or two.
“By the way, how did it go today?” Catrina asked, placing a dish towel
over the bread bowl while the dough set.
“We’re over it, just like that?”
“Arguing is pointless.”
“With you arguing is pointless.”
“Same difference,” Catrina said, smiling.
Dante hated how Catrina’s combative nature and stubbornness was
entirely too appealing to him.
“Tell me how it went with the investors, Dante. I’ve been dying here all
day waiting to know. I was going to call and ask, but I didn’t think you
would want me to.”
Really?
His walls crashed back down. Dante had no idea how Catrina managed
to do that. One minute he could be ready to lock her in a room until she
would see things from his perspective, and in the next, her sweeter side
came into view and bled its way into his system.
Dante didn’t want a passionate affair with this crazy woman … or he
hadn’t before. They were supposed to be partners. An advantage each could
use. Somehow, he just knew they were going to fail at the first. Especially
considering the way Catrina was grinning at him, eager to know how his
meeting went, told Dante she cared. Most importantly, about him. How
difficult would it be to get her to admit it?
“You could have called,” Dante said, leaning on the counter. “I wouldn’t
have minded.”
It was another olive branch from his end. He was still waiting on one
from her.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time. So tell me.”
“It went okay. I won’t know for sure about the contract for a little while,
but it went well.”
“Good. See, I told you your worries were useless.”
Dante grinned. “Maybe.”
“Oh, I forgot to mention it, but your moth—”
A ring of a cellphone in Dante’s jacket pocket interrupted Catrina.
Dante held a finger up to ask her for a minute as he answered the call
without checking the caller ID first. “Dante Marcello speaking.”
“Congratulations, son.”
Dante stilled at his father’s voice, turning his back to Catrina. “What did
I do to deserve the praise?”
Besides pissing you off today, Dante thought.
“I just got the call five minutes ago on my way to meet Lucian for
dinner letting me know they wouldn’t be needing my plans.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me you don’t appreciate word games
today, Dad?”
Antony laughed deeply. “That I did. I asked them to let me deliver the
news and they agreed.”
“Get on with it, Dad. I’m kind of busy here.”
“Mmhmm, sure you are. You need to work on that attitude of yours.
Nonetheless, your bid beat out Marcello Industries. So again,
congratulations, son.”
Dante felt like he swallowed his tongue. “What?”
“You heard me. They’ll be calling soon, I imagine, but I had to do it
first.”
Of course, Antony did.
“Yeah?” Dante asked, still not quite believing it.
“Yes, Dante. Well done.”
Dante said goodbye to his father and hung up the phone, astounded.
Setting the phone on the counter, his mind ran wild. The most prominent of
all his thoughts to stand out was the fact his father didn’t sound the least bit
pissed or contrite about losing the bid to his son’s start-up company. In fact,
Antony seemed … proud.
And shit, his father sure as hell hadn’t let Dante win.
“Bello?” Catrina asked, drawing Dante from his thoughts.
“I got it,” Dante whispered.
“What?”
Dante’s palms slapped down on the granite counter, smacking loudly. “I
got the fucking contract, Cat.”
Catrina’s grin melted into a brilliant smile across the island. “Really?”
“Yes! Holy shit, I didn’t think I would. I mean, the contract is solid and
everything but I didn’t have the rep like Marcello Industries does and—”
“Stop rambling,” Catrina ordered, laughing.
Dante realized his excitement over winning the bid must have been
terribly infectious, because Catrina seemed just as happy about his success
as he was. He didn’t have the first clue of what came over him as he
watched his wife’s face light up with happiness at the sight of his joy, but
the undeniable urge to kiss Catrina slammed into Dante like a wrecking
ball.
Not even bothering to think about his next move, Dante leaned over the
island before he could second guess his choice, cupped Catrina’s jaw in his
palms, and kissed her smiling lips. Her laughter died into a breathless gasp
at the sudden kiss. She tasted like candied sugar and the moment her lips
parted, he speared his tongue into the warm softness of her mouth to find
more of that flavor.
Dante didn’t know what he anticipated from his wife when he broke the
invisible barrier between them. After the one time they’d actually had sex
on their wedding night, their lines were clearly drawn. The physical side of
their non-existent emotional relationship didn’t need to be fed. Dante knew
exactly why; they worked like this and that could be a bad thing.
He didn’t care at that moment, he just kept kissing her. Catrina’s fingers
curled around his wrists, locking him in place. Her grin grew a little sexier
when he began to pull away from the heaven that was her mouth. All the
while, her heated gaze never left his.
“Oh!”
That one word from a voice Dante wasn’t expecting sent him stumbling
back from the island and Catrina. He cringed and cursed loudly. Dante’s
head whipped to the side, immediately finding his mother standing in the
entryway between the living room and the kitchen. Something akin to
mortification flooded Dante’s gut.
Cecelia shouldn’t be in his condo. Well, not alone with Dante’s wife,
anyway. There had been little to no love between his wife and mother ever
since that first introduction and he didn’t understand why she was standing
there looking at him with a knowing smile and a quiet laugh.
Catrina cleared her throat. “I tried to tell you, but the phone call …”
Dante blindly waved at his wife, brushing off whatever it was she just
said. “I’ve, uh, got shit to do.”
Yeah, that seemed like a good plan. Anything but what he was doing
now sounded fucking perfect.
Chapter Eleven
Cat leaned in the doorway of the spare bedroom Dante used as a home
gym. His fists slammed into the punching bag repeatedly with no pause
between the hits.
“Dante?”
He either hadn’t heard her call of his name, or he was ignoring her. Cat
didn’t mind if it was the latter. After earlier, she could understand his
unwillingness to talk, especially with her. She should have told him
straightaway his mother had come over at Cat’s invitation, but she didn’t
think he would mind, really.
Well, Dante probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t …
Jesus, he kissed her. And it was magnificent.
Cat was done pretending as though Dante didn’t have some kind of
crazy effect on her physically. Not that she could disregard it now if she
really wanted to. Desperately, she needed more of that feeling from earlier.
She didn’t care what it meant to want it, either.
“Dante?” Cat called again, firmer and louder the second time.
Dante turned on his heel, yanking out an earbud from his ear that Cat
hadn’t noticed. The wire dangled over his shoulder, music still buzzing
from the tiny speaker. While he stared at her with those piercing eyes of his,
she took in the sight of his form damp with perspiration. Half-naked or
clothed, it didn’t make a damn difference. Dante was gorgeous, and he was
the only man who made Cat want to bend to his desires, something she kept
fighting against.
Cat knew those hands of his could find every button to push on her
without a lick of trouble. His arms, roped with bands of muscles, could lift,
pin, or hold her. She’d had him once … and it was so, so good. It might
have been easier if she hadn’t crossed that line in the first place but
somehow, Cat doubted it.
“What, Catrina?” Dante asked, his breathing still harsh from his
workout.
She didn’t bother to hide the shiver wracking her spine at the sound of
her name in his mouth.
“I wanted to let you know your mother left a while ago.”
Dante frowned. “I would have said goodbye.”
Cat shrugged. “She said it was fine. You were … busy.”
“Embarrassed, you mean.”
“Well, that, too.” Cat offered him a smile that wasn’t returned. “There’s
really nothing to be—”
“If you finish that sentence, I’ll physically throw your ass out of this
room.”
Cat laughed. “You could try. Dante, you’re twenty-nine-years-old,
you’re allowed to kiss your wife if you want. I don’t think Cecelia minded
seeing it. She was more pleasant to me after than she was before, so maybe
seeing it helped her.”
“That’s not my problem,” Dante muttered.
“Then what is?”
“I’m not in the mood for this right now.”
“Dante, enough.”
“Apparently we’re going to talk whether I want to or not,” he said,
turning to her with crossed arms and a defensive stare.
“About earlier—”
“I’m sorry, I crossed a line. It won’t happen again.”
Cat shook her head, exasperated.
“I liked it,” Cat said, tossing her arms wide. “I didn’t mind you kissing
me. Was it a shock? Yes, but that was okay, too. It’s fine, bello.”
Dante stared at her like she had grown a second head in the span of
seconds. “Liked it.”
“Very much. I’ve never denied my attraction for you, Dante. I only said
I didn’t want us to act on it.”
Clearing his throat, Dante glanced away from Cat. “Why was my
mother here, anyway?”
“You’re deflecting again.”
“No, I’m honestly curious.”
“I invited her,” Cat admitted.
“God, why? She isn’t the nicest person to you, bella mia. I would
understand if you wanted to keep your distance.”
“Maybe so, but I also haven’t made much of an effort to let her be,
either.”
Dante raised a single brow as he regarded her again. “Between the two
of you, she should be the one to make the first move, Cat.”
“For you, sure. For me, no. Today was my way of inviting her into our
space, not hers. We’ve been married four months, and you’ve yet to invite
your mother here even once. I understand why. At the same time, I’m aware
that probably hurts her, regardless if she admits it or not. So, I invited her
over to cook with me.”
“If you think it will help, dolcezza.”
“I do because she’s your mother and she’s important to you. The more
you push her away for my sake, the more she dislikes me, Dante. I want
Cecelia to at least find some common ground with me where we can work
from. Cooking seems like a good place to start.”
Dante chuckled. “She does like to cook.”
“So do I.”
“Mmm, I know.”
“I wish you hadn’t run off like that, though.”
“I’m sorry,” Dante said quietly. “She just … shocked me, that’s all. My
problem wasn’t my mother, but she didn’t help.”
“What was the problem?”
“It was easy. Kissing you, I mean. I didn’t even have to think about it
and if my mother hadn’t interrupted us, I wouldn’t have stopped. So you
liked it, Cat. That’s great, but you made it clear what you wanted from me
and it’s not a physical relationship.”
Cat tapped a beat to the floor with her foot. Before she lost her nerve,
she asked, “Have you been faithful to me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Have you been faithful to me since we married, Dante?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.
“For me, it has a lot to do with it.”
“Why?”
Cat didn’t like the tone of his voice or how defensive he seemed. “Can I
assume, based on your reaction, that the answer is no, you haven’t been?”
“You can assume fucking nothing,” Dante snapped right back.
“Because you don’t think it’s my place to question your fidelity, or
because you have been?”
“Not your place—”
“Don’t act surprised, Dante. It’s all too common in our culture for men
to have mistresses on the side filling in for their wives and girlfriends.”
Dante looked as if he’d swallowed a wasp. “Not in my home it wasn’t.”
“Oh?”
“No, my father was always faithful to my mother and so are my
brothers in regards to their wives.”
“But we’re not like them, Dante. We’re not in love, building a family, or
any of those normal things that come along with marriage. It wouldn’t
shock me to know you’ve been with other women since we married.”
But it would hurt her and speak volumes about this man. Cat needed to
know if he had stepped out on her with someone else.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have faith in the sanctity of marriage,
Catrina. I do, completely. Despite not wanting to be married, I absolutely
believe in the vows I spoke, and when I said them, I meant them. Especially
remaining faithful to my wife.”
Dante gestured in Cat’s direction, adding, “And what about you? I’ve
never questioned you about your fidelity to this marriage or to me. If I ask,
will you answer truthfully or shut me out?”
Cat didn’t answer. “Have you had the opportunity to fuck someone?”
“Cristo cazzo, Catrina!”
“Well, I asked. I would like an answer.”
“Yes, of course. You know what I do for a living. I spend at least four
hours a day in venues that sport a lot of beautiful women. Some of them
know my name. None of them get my attention, not since we married.”
“Have you wanted to, or thought about it?”
Dante canted his head to the side, gaze narrowing. “That’s an unfair
question, Amore.”
“How so?”
“Because it is. Believing in the sanctity of marriage meant the moment
you took my last name, I knew exactly what I was giving up, including my
right to fuck whoever I wanted. That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate my
ability to fantasize.”
Cat didn’t blink a lash at his crass attitude. “And you were what, ready
to give up having any kind of intimacy with anyone for this?”
“Yes. Is that such a surprise to you? Does the man I am scream
unfaithful and foul to you?”
“I never said that.” Cat shifted on her feet, uncomfortable under his
scrutiny. “Say in a decade or whenever, if you had found someone you
loved, what of us then? Would you have remained faithful?”
“How can I find someone I love when I have no interest in being in
love, bella?”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“To find love, you have to engage with a person on a level beyond sex.
The only woman I have any kind of relationship with that I’m engaged in
daily is you. We both know there’s no love here.
“Also, if you want to discuss questions not being answered, you still
haven’t given a response to mine. What would you say if I asked you these
same questions, Catrina? How would you feel to be bombarded and
interrogated like this?”
“Fine. I would feel fine. My answer is no.”
Dante tensed. “No?”
“I realize my work puts my appearance on display in front of men. I’ve
long since passed the point in my profession where I need to actually use
my body to keep their attention, Dante. Men are little more than chess
pieces I need to move across the board and that’s all. There has been no
man to catch and keep my attention enough for me to break my focus from
my game… or, there hadn’t been until you. What I told you on our wedding
night still stands.”
“That I was the only one in a long while. Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, you already know. What else is there to wonder?”
An almost bitter quality coated his words when he asked, “Chess pieces,
huh?”
“Every queen needs her king, Dante. Even on the chess board.”
“But he’s only there to protect her and if he dies, the game’s still on.”
“Maybe, but she doesn’t last long without him.” Cat waved at him.
“Besides, I’ve never hidden my intentions from you.”
Not entirely, she corrected silently.
“No, I guess you haven’t.” Dante’s arms uncrossed, his posture relaxing.
Cat smiled. “Before you go wading back into that crazy headspace of
yours, I want you to know something.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to do it again.”
“Do what, Catrina?”
“Kiss me. I want you to do it again, and I don’t want you to stop.”
Dante looked like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek,
considering her words. “That’s what you want, huh?”
“That’s what I want, Dante.”
“Right now, kitten?”
“No, see, supper still needs to be eaten.”
She left him grumbling behind her.
A good wait wouldn’t kill him.
•••
“Catrina?”
Cat’s head snapped up, but her husband was already swallowing another
bite of her parmesan casserole. She waited until he was done before asking,
“Yes?”
“I lied.”
“When?”
“Earlier.”
Cat decided to hear him out before reacting. “About what?”
“When you asked me if I had wanted to be with someone, I lied.”
“But you basically said you had thought about it,” she pointed out,
confused. “I wouldn’t call that a lie.”
“It was a lie, kind of.”
As he spoke, Dante kept his head down. It put her off her game when
she couldn’t gauge the reaction of the man she was speaking with, even if
that man was her husband.
“What I said was that I had considered it, but I gave you the impression
my thoughts were pointed in the direction of someone else.”
Cat swallowed hard, straightening in her chair. “What are you trying to
tell me, Dante?”
Dante finally looked up at her, his green eyes blazing. “I thought about
fucking someone. Often. Every damn day, Cat. Once she was in my head,
she wouldn’t get the hell out, and I couldn’t possibly make up a fantasy
about someone else when I already had her. I know how she tastes, the way
she feels wrapped around my cock, and even how my name sounds in her
mouth. Yes, I’ve thought about her a lot. So, I would say I lied.”
“But you said you had—” Cat’s words cut off when Dante arched his
eyebrow. “Oh.”
“You,” he murmured. “I thought about fucking you.”
Jesus.
Cat’s air cut past her lips in a hiss. All of her body reacted to those
words he spoke so innocently, even with their wicked nature. “Oh.”
Dante stood from the table and Cat jumped in her seat across from him,
unsure of what he was doing. “I’m done eating, so I’m going to take a
shower, kitten.”
A shower?
What?
She had plainly offered her body and bed to him, he spoke as though he
surely fucking wanted her, and now he was going to shower. Sweet Christ,
he kept using that damn pet name like he had on their wedding night. Why
did he keep doing that? It did nothing to calm her unsettled heart or soothe
the raging flood of desire.
Fantastic.
Cat refused to pick Dante apart. She put men on edge, not the other way
around. “I’ll clean up.”
“Thank you.”
Once Dante was gone from view, Cat huffed and smacked her palms to
the table, frustrated. She went about cleaning the leftover mess from dinner
and getting the dishes ready to be washed. The kitchen sported a top of the
line dishwasher, but she preferred to take care of the dishes herself if it was
only her and Dante eating. Cleaning was almost as therapeutic for Cat as
cooking was.
Since the last decade of her life had mostly consisted of living out of
hotels, there wasn’t time for her to be really … normal. Cat knew when she
married Dante that her first year as his wife would slow a lot of things down
for her.
For once, she felt like there were some roots being put into the ground
and maybe she was becoming stable. Cat didn’t want to toss that away, but
she still had business to attend, too. Luckily, her men came into play for
some clients. They didn’t mind Cat’s men flying out to supply the dealers
and handling the demands.
Rinsing the dishes off in soapy water, Cat disappeared into her thoughts.
She didn’t realize how much time had passed until she only had a few left
to wash. Glancing at the digital microwave clock, she wondered if Dante
had gone to sleep after his shower considering she hadn’t heard a peep from
him since he left the table.
Cat went back to the dishes in silence. As she scrubbed the last one, the
creak of a floorboard was the only warning Cat received before she was
lifted from the floor by two hands grabbing her waist. The dish clattered
into the soapy water, sending water and bubbles flying everywhere.
She shrieked, surprised when she found herself turned and seated on the
island counter. Dante stood between her spread thighs, smirking like a
fucking idiot.
“What’s this?” Dante asked, lifting his clenched hand for her to see. A
black tie was wrapped around his palm.
“Your tie,” Cat said, cocking a brow. Wasn’t it obvious? “And what was
that all about, throwing me around like a barbarian?”
“Just getting you back for your show earlier, kitten.”
“What show?”
“Don’t act dumb. You’re not a stupid woman. When you accosted me
earlier, basically said you were open to play, and then told me supper was
ready like we were discussing the goddamn weather. You’re a tease. I gave
you a taste of your own medicine. It’s not nice to be left hanging and
waiting, is it, Cat?”
Cat squared her shoulders, refusing to relent to his accusation. She
didn’t want to give him even the slightest inclination he was having the best
kind of effect on her insides, never mind the desire already beginning to
pool down between her legs. It was hard, though. He smelled fresh, with
just a hint of the body wash he used lingering around the edges of his scent.
His short hair was still damp, but he wore a pair of cotton sleep pants that
hung low on his hips.
Nothing else.
Definitely not something underneath those pants, given Cat could feel
his erection digging into her thigh.
“Seriously, Cat, what is this?” Dante asked again, waving his tie.
“I told you, your—”
“I’m aware it’s mine. I bought it. But this wasn’t where it usually is
when I went looking for it so I could have it set out for tomorrow. It was in
a drawer with twenty other ties, rolled up and placed just so. Kind of like
that crazy nonsense you do with all the shit in the linen closet. You were
going through my drawers, weren’t you?”
Oh. Well …
Cat wouldn’t meet his stare. “Your dressers are a goddamn shame,
Dante. There’s no organization, and little else left to be desired. You just
throw everything in there and off you go, picking through the mess when
you want something to wear.”
“I like it that way. I know where everything is. Pants in one drawer,
shirts in another.”
“It’s a mess,” Cat repeated.
“Listen, just because you’re fucking anal about everything—”
“I am not!”
“—doesn’t mean the rest of us care if our underwear drawer is arranged
by color and style,” Dante finished sharply.
Cat pouted. “But it was a mess.”
“Oh my God, dolcezza,” he groaned. “You don’t get it.”
“The only thing remotely bearable in your room is the fact you hang a
lot of things in your closet—though it could use some arranging, too—and
the fact you make your bed every morning. Beyond that, you’re a lost
cause. I was only helping.”
“It’s not your room to worry about, it’s mine,” he muttered, but she
could see the humor hidden in his gaze.
Cat smacked his bare chest with her palm lightly. The droplets of water
left over on her fingers splattered up his neck and jaw. “Say thank you and
leave it alone.”
“Do I have to explain to you again that it’s not your room to go
through?”
“Bello—”
Dante shut Cat up when his mouth crashed down on hers. Hot, sinful,
and promising. That’s what his kiss felt like. His tongue struck against the
seam of her lips, silently demanding she open her mouth to his want. Cat
did, relishing in the exploration of his tongue dancing with hers as he
tugged her hair out from the messy ponytail she wore it up in.
Subconsciously, Cat spread her legs wider as his body pressed tightly to
hers and his hands fisted into the sides of her dress. The skirt bunched
around her hips, exposing the simple black cotton thong she had on
underneath to his groin. Dante pulled her to the very edge of the counter,
the hard ridge of his cock seated perfectly at the slit of her sex. Grinding her
hips into his erection gave the ache in her clit the smallest amount of relief.
“Don’t stop, right?” Dante growled against her mouth.
“Don’t ever stop,” Cat replied, already breathless and feeling spun out
from lust.
“This is going to change things.”
She heard his warning, but she didn’t really care.
“Not a lot,” Cat said before she bit down on his bottom lip, meeting his
gaze. “We just won’t have to pretend like we don’t want to fuck each
other.”
Dante laughed darkly, the sound vibrating his chest against her already
pebbling nipples. “I guess not.”
“Kiss me again,” Cat ordered, wanting more of his mouth on her body.
“Where, bella?”
A lump lodged in her throat as she remembered the first time he’d
fucked her with his mouth. It had literally blinded her with the intensity,
something she hadn’t experienced before. Cat wasn’t sure she could handle
that tonight. What she really wanted was for him to just fuck her—give her
what she had been denying for far too long because of her own damn
stubbornness.
“Kiss me and fuck me. No tricks tonight.”
Dante’s smirk grew into a sly grin. “Beg me, kitten.”
“But—”
His hands landed to both her hips, his fingers digging deliciously into
her naked thighs with enough force to sting and feel oh so fucking good at
the same time. “Beg me to fuck you, Cat. Tell me how badly you want me
and what I can do to you. Let me see what kind of woman you are beneath
the control keeping you sane inside. Give that to me again. Ask me to fuck
you hard, demand it even, but you better goddamn well beg me like I know
you can.”
Cat fell speechless, her heart hammering loudly in her chest.
“Come on, kitten, let me see it,” he urged.
“Please, Dante.”
His eyes darkened. “More. I know you can do so much better than that.”
Cat didn’t realize her hands were shaking from her need and nerves
until she was grabbing his jaw and pulling him close enough that their noses
touched. His warm breath washed over her skin. The slight stubble on his
face dragged across her sensitive skin, surely leaving a piece of him behind
as his lips ghosted over hers.
Dante’s words were no louder than a breath when he said, “Beg me,
bellissima.”
“Fuck me, Dante,” Cat whispered, keeping his gaze locked in hers.
“Fuck me so hard, until I can’t breathe in anything but you. Until I can’t see
or feel anything but you. I want you all over me, touching me, tasting me.
You do it so well. Drives me crazy. Please fuck me, Dante. Please.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said thickly.
Dante reached above her head and pulled the few pots and pans down
from the metal rack above the island. He tossed them to the floor, the bangs
echoing throughout the quiet condo. Then, he was yanking her dress up
over her head, tossing it somewhere behind her. Cat wore no bra beneath
her dress, just her thong. Dante’s mouth instantly found her right breast, his
hand covering her left. His tongue laid flat to the hardened bud, lapping at
her nipple while his fingers teased her other one.
“Love your tits,” Dante murmured against her skin before nipping to the
sensitive swell of her breast. Cat gasped in a lungful of air, needing to feel
like she wasn’t going to drown under this man’s want.
Dante’s hand left her breast, sliding between her thighs and under the
fabric of her thong. His mouth on her nipple let go of the pink bud as he
regarded her the moment his fingers came in contact with her sex. Cat
couldn’t help but jolt at the sensation. It had been months since he touched
her like this … and she couldn’t stand the wait. With the barest of grazes,
his knuckles swept over her folds while his fingers explored.
“So wet, kitten. Like hot silk. I can’t wait to have you soaking me.”
Dante’s hand disappeared from the confines of her thong and then he
pulled the flimsy fabric down around her backside and off her legs. The tie
he’d tossed over his shoulder was back in his grasp. Dante caught Cat’s
wrists in his palms before she could protest, the tie weaving in and around
her wrists with several loops, though never too tight to cut off her blood
flow.
“You good?” Dante asked, tugging on tail of the tie.
Cat nodded. “Yes.”
She watched in silence as he pulled her arms high above her head.
Dante tied the silk around the rack in a clean looped knot that didn’t look as
though it would come undone if she yanked on it.
“Damn, look at you,” Dante said, dragging his hands down Cat’s body.
“You are the sexiest woman I have ever had the pleasure of fucking,
Catrina. My dangerous little wife, you don’t know how often I’ve thought
about this. The things I want to do to you are downright filthy.”
“Fuck me,” Cat demanded.
“Soon.”
Cat’s chest heaved with her heavy breaths as she stared up at the rack
and the tie knotted around her wrists, keeping her arms high and her body
on display for him.
“Tug on that fucking thing all you want, Cat. It’s bolted up there, and it
isn’t coming down.”
She swallowed audibly. “I suppose I should say that’s a good thing.”
Dante chuckled as he shoved his cotton sleep pants down around his
hips, freeing his erection to his palm. He stroked his member, his thumb
rolling over the head of his cock every time he came to the tip. Stepping in
between her wide open thighs once more, Dante said, “Last chance to back
out.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Cat bit out.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Dante didn’t give her any warning. He simply slid the head of his dick
between her folds and slammed into the heat of her pussy with one hard
thrust. Cat was more than wet enough to take his intrusion, but every part of
her felt it, right down to the soles of her feet. Her walls contracted around
his length, taking him as deep into her sex as he could go. His girth
stretched her open, his hands widening her thighs even further than before.
A burn settled in her muscles, but it only added to the absolute bliss of
his cock beginning to pound into her at an unrelenting pace. Cat’s head
tossed back, air cutting through her lips in a whoosh at the immediate relief
flooding her bloodstream.
She was high on this man when he was inside her. Her memories didn’t
do him justice. Not the way the bands of muscles on his body shuddered as
he fucked her. Not the way he watched her like every moan and cry of his
name was perfect music. Not how his hands explored her, touched her, and
worked her closer to the edge with every stroke. None of her memories
fulfilled the dark spots inside her soul like Dante could when he fucked her.
He demanded from her body and took without question. It was as if her
body were the strings to an instrument and he was the only musician who
knew how to play her.
“How’s that, kitten?” Dante asked, his mouth coming dangerously close
to hers again.
“So good,” Cat managed to whine.
“Tell me.”
“I fucking feel you everywhere.”
Dante eyes flashed with satisfaction as he smiled. “I don’t think you do,
but I’ll sure as fuck make certain you will once I’m done.”
Cat’s teeth clenched, a coiling heat taking over her middle and
spreading down to the sex. “Oh my God, Dante.”
“Louder, baby. I want to hear your voice screaming my goddamn name
for days, Catrina.”
Not for one second did his brutal pace relent. Every crack of his groin
meeting her center threatened to send her off the counter, but her wrists
locked high above her and his fingers holding her thighs open kept her in
place. She yanked on her restraints, loving how the softness of the silk tie
bit into her skin with just enough of a sting to put an edge on her oncoming
orgasm. He filled her so fucking well—sweet Christ, did he ever fill her.
“Almost,” Cat breathed.
“Perfect,” she heard him hiss.
One of his hands left her thighs, coming to find her pussy. She felt
wetness smear from the tips of his fingers over her folds as his thumb
pressed into her clit roughly. Any breath that was left in Cat’s lungs rushed
out, taking her sanity with it. She couldn’t see, and there weren't very many
thoughts in her mind, either.
Nothing but him.
All she could feel was him. Fucking her. His mouth kissing the small
dimple on her right cheek, teeth nipping to the side of her lips. His breath,
harsh and short in her ear. Those fingers of his teasing, pinching at the hood
of her clit, sending bursts of sensations shooting straight into her womb.
Then, the hand that had been pushing her leg wide on the counter was
grabbing her jaw, under her chin. Dante forced Cat’s face up, making her
stare straight into his hooded, heady gaze. His fingers dug roughly into her
flesh, so beautifully harsh. Cat couldn’t speak, not with the force of his
fucking driving her insane and the way he was looking at her like he owned
her.
“You’re mine.”
The two words came out thick and forced past his clenching teeth as his
eyes searched hers.
So goddamn simple, but they weren’t.
“You’re mine, Catrina,” Dante repeated.
Cat nodded. “Yours.”
“Nobody ever touches you but me.”
“No one, bello.”
Cat’s orgasm came so hard and fast, she literally felt her body release
with it. All of the tension let go as it raged through, her eyes flying wide to
find Dante staring at her with a hunger that set her nerves on fire. Her body
turned hot, like someone had dropped her into a sauna. She tried to calm as
the last bit of the euphoria drove through her trembling, sweaty body, but
she couldn’t.
Hell, Cat couldn’t even think.
Without a word, Dante reached up and untied the makeshift restraint. He
caught her arms with his hands, wrapping them around his neck. Cat’s
whole body was jelly. She needed a second to get back down on solid
ground.
Dante picked her up from the counter as if she didn’t weigh a thing. It
was only then Cat realized his cock was still hard and buried inside the
clenching, soaked walls of her sex. Every step he took toward his bedroom
jostled her on his length, waking her up, promising …
“We’re not even close to being done,” Dante whispered into her ear as
her back met the bed.
It was all too reminiscent of their wedding night.
Cat couldn’t fucking wait.
•••
Cat’s gaze caught the sign directing her toward the airport, but she
wasn’t paying attention. Her anger was boiling and the only thing keeping
her from going into a rage was thinking about how well Dante had kept her
sated and thoroughly fucked for the last week.
Because if she didn’t think about sex with him, she was going to think
about slicing his throat with her knife. Pretty fucking simple.
Cat dialed her husband’s cell number, agitation churning her stomach.
Dante picked up on the second ring, but she didn’t even give him the
chance to greet her. “I thought I told you no enforcers were to follow me on
this trip, Dante.”
“He was simply making sure you arrived at the airport safe and sound,
Amore.”
She tried to keep cool, but nothing seemed to help. After specifically
asking him to let her do her thing, especially since this was intended—to his
knowledge—to be her first trip away doing business again, he still sent
someone to watch after her.
Cat was pissed.
“Well, I’m not even half way to the airport yet and I’ve already lost
him,” Cat informed, keeping her tone cool. “Next time, pick a better fool to
babysit me or fuck off, Dante.”
“I wasn’t trying to baby—”
She hung up the phone and tossed it into the middle console, still
steaming. The moment a middle link way came up on the highway to
switch from one direction to the other, Cat took it. She was headed in the
complete opposite direction from the airport now.
Oh, Cat had business to do. Just not the kind her husband would want to
know about.
Thirty minutes later, Cat pulled her car into a dirt road off the highway
when her GPS signaled for her to. Forty or so feet into the private road, a
black car was waiting. Cat drove her car beyond the black one and parked
it. Getting out, she locked her white Mercedes—the only wedding gift she
allowed from her husband—and walked up to the black sedan. Feeling
under the wheel well, Cat quickly found the spare key she knew should be
there. Five minutes later, she was back on the road again and still not
driving toward the airport.
No, she just had to get out of the city to reach her destination.
She reminded herself to thank Gaetano for being so good about keeping
her plans quiet. He deserved some kind of award for being as loyal as he
was to Cat. She didn’t know what she would do without him and Pao.
None of this would have been possible if not for them. Gaetano had
flown in to New York, picked up a rental car for Cat, and dropped it off
where she requested. Gaetano would lay low for a couple of days until Cat
returned with Dante none the wiser about where she had really been and
then he would return the car before leaving again.
Yeah, she owed that man a lot.
•••
Cat pulled up to the single-level, modest bungalow style home. She had
only been inside the house once before. Actually, when she purchased it
under an assumed name. It sported two bedrooms, a small bath, the usual
kitchen and living areas, and a decent sized backyard which was completely
enclosed by a ten-foot high privacy fence. Along with the quiet, safe suburb
neighborhood it was located in, the locale and house was a perfect fit for
what Cat needed.
No one would assume the people living inside were anything other than
a normal mother and son so long as they didn’t get too close. Cat had made
sure Isa knew the rules, anyway. She wouldn’t talk to the neighbors unless
she absolutely had to.
Bruno Savino would never think to look for the people Cat was keeping
hidden from him if they were in plain sight. He probably thought Cat had
them stored away somewhere a few states over. Or hell, maybe he thought
she left them in Italy.
Wrong.
Well, truth be told, Cat didn’t know what Bruno thought at all and she
didn’t want to. Just thinking of Bruno’s name sent her anger spinning,
sickness rising, and her worry compounding hard in her chest.
He was a vile man, an abusive one who cared little for women. He had
been her sister’s lover before Catherine’s death.
And the supposed father to Cat’s nephew, the little boy she stole from
him to keep safe.
Cat knocked four times on the front door of the home and waited.
Isa, her nephew’s nanny and full-time caretaker, opened it with a smile.
“Ciao, Catrina!”
“Isa,” Cat said with a smile.
“Hurry, come in. He misses you.”
Cat stepped into the house, immediately reaching to take the baby boy
from Isa’s arms. Michel squirmed like any almost eight-month-old boy
would do to be let down to the floor, but Cat wouldn’t. She wanted to hold
him because she wouldn’t get very much time with him. To protect him, she
needed to stay away. To protect this child … she had married a man whose
last name and family would scare his father from taking him back.
She wouldn’t risk all that she had worked for to keep this child—her
blood—safe only because she wanted to visit him more often.
It had been nearly seven months since she had last seen this child. He
was practically brand new, then. He still had the new baby smell, a toothless
smile that wasn’t really a smile at all, and a mostly bald head. Now, his
crown shined with golden curls, his brown eyes were alert and looking
straight at her, and his grin was honest.
Briefly, she thought about Dante and how he would feel to learn she had
hidden her true intentions for marrying him. Betrayed, likely. It was too
late, now. Cat couldn’t take it back. If Dante had known the full truth when
she approached him, he’d have thought her nothing more than a risk to his
family, and he would have turned her away.
Cat needed someone bigger than herself to protect Michel, even if they
didn’t know they were doing it. Dante was that person.
“Michel!” Cat tickled the baby’s fat belly, watching his pink cheeks puff
up. “Oh, you’re such a handsome boy!”
“Ma!” the baby shouted.
Cat blinked, shocked. “No, Michel … Zia Catrina, not your Ma.”
Her heart ached to say it. Michel didn’t have a mother at all, not after
his father all but beat her to death, left her to birth this child alone, and at
the end, did nothing to help her when she bled out.
Isa laughed. “You left a bag of your sister’s belongings here. You and
Catherine happen to look a lot alike, so maybe he’s mistaking you for her, is
all.”
“Maybe,” Cat echoed.
Isa’s smile faded. “He will need a mother and father eventually,
Catrina.”
“I know.”
They were the only two things Cat didn’t know how to give Michel.
The one reason she married Dante was for Michel’s safety. All of her
status and reputation as the supreme ghost Queen Pin that she was giving up
slowly to be Catrina Marcello, the very public wife of a mob boss whose
clients wouldn’t trust her now, was for this child.
But she didn’t know how to give Michel anything else.
Chapter Twelve
“Oh, don’t you look comfortable.”
Dante mumbled something even he couldn’t understand into his pillow
at his wife’s teasing.
“What time did you get in last night?” Catrina asked.
Turning his head enough so his words wouldn’t be a garbled mess,
Dante said, “Around three.”
“Yikes, it’s like ten, now.”
“Fucking Gio,” Dante muttered.
Catrina laughed. The musical sound woke him up more, but he refused
to get up unless he absolutely had to. “Fun night with your brothers, then?”
“Too much.”
After a particularly stressful couple of weeks going through résumés for
contractors needed on the legal side of business, mixed in with the constant
crap from the illegal side, Dante needed a night out. Catrina had suggested
he take his brothers to a club for some bonding time without their wives
tagging along once she got back from her trip to LA, so he did when he
found time. It wasn’t like Dante sported a hangover or anything the
morning after, but Christ, Gio could party hard when he wanted to. At least
his brother laid off the substances, now.
Even so, Gio was the only one of the three Marcello brothers with the
energy to stay up for hours on end, drink like a fucking fish, and not be any
worse for wear come morning.
Catrina came to stand by the edge of the bed. The smooth, creamy
paleness of her legs caught Dante’s eye. He reached out to rub his palm up
her thigh, still keeping one eye closed and the other half shut as well.
Sweet fingernails Dante loved feeling claw down his back danced on his
neck. “No women, right, bello?”
“Don’t even ask that question.”
Her fingers skipped down his spine, making his cock harden against the
mattress. “Oh, I don’t doubt there were no women you were looking at.
Women, on the other hand, are always looking at you. Just wondering if
there’s a new female I should chase off.”
Dante chuckled. “Retract your claws, Cat.”
“But you like them.”
“I do, when they’re warranted. What time did you say it was?” Dante
asked.
“Ten.”
Dante thought about that for a moment before a heavy realization sunk
it and he bolted up in the bed to his knees. “Merda!”
“What?”
“Church,” Dante barked.
Catrina laughed in that way of hers again. “We’re not going, Dante.”
“It’s not really a choice we get, Cat.”
Dante stumbled out of bed, blindly reaching for the suit he had tossed
off the night before after he got home. It wasn’t there. Not that it would
have been suitable for Sunday services, likely.
“Your suit is in the drycleaner bag,” Catrina informed. “And we’re still
not going.”
Dante shook his head, willing the sleepiness to leave his vision. “Like I
said, it’s not a choice we get to make, kitten.”
“Well, since everyone thinks we’re in bed with some awful flu this
morning, yeah, I think we’re safe.”
Turning fast on his heel, Dante stared at his wife like she was speaking
gibberish. “You called us in sick to church.”
“Church, your mother … same thing, I guess.”
“My brothers know—”
“They can owe you for once,” Catrina interrupted, grinning slyly. “Take
the day and be bad with me, Dante. You know how much I like it when
you’re bad.”
Dante snorted. “Skipping church is on the very bottom of my bad-shitI’ve-done list, Cat.”
“I know, but still, there are only so many rules you absolutely won’t
break and church is one of them. I can think of a dozen other dirty things
we can do today.”
It took him far too long to realize what his wife was saying. Turning just
enough to give Catrina a good once-over, Dante noticed she was wearing
one of his dress shirts with only two buttons done up at the middle and very
little fucking else. She looked like pure sin—all legs, her trim waist
accentuated by his shirt, and her lips painted red just how he liked. Her
hands were hidden behind her back, as if she were keeping something from
him.
Yes, sin, but his.
“What do you have on under that?” he asked, grinning mischievously.
Catrina shrugged. “A little bit of lace.”
“Is that all?”
“And a lot of skin.”
Dante groaned, loud and hard. “You told my mother we were sick to get
us out of church and dinner so we could fuck all day?”
Catrina smirked. “Pretty much.”
“We’re going to hell.”
“It’ll be a fun ride.”
“Christ, you are wicked,” Dante said, laughing.
“Oh, I know, bello.”
Then, Catrina brought her hands out from behind her back, flashing a
device Dante hadn’t expected her to have. The Nikon professional grade
camera with a six-hundred dollar attached lens was already turned on and
before he could think, it was held up and the flash blinded him.
Dante put his hand up, blocking his wife from taking another picture.
“Where did you find that goddamn thing? I haven’t used it in years.”
“In the TV cabinet. It’s pretty snazzy.”
“Snazzy?”
“You know, like bells and whistles.”
Dante refused to lower the shield that was his hand. He liked taking
pictures on occasion, but he didn’t like to be the one photographed. Keeping
his face out of the limelight had always been a pastime of his.
“Because it used to be a hobby of mine, Amore,” Dante explained.
Catrina dropped the camera, so Dante lowered his hand. “Used to be?”
“The last few years have been a busy time for me. I just lost interest as
other shit became more important.”
“A photographer, huh?” Catrina asked, dangling the camera from two
fingers.
Dante watched the device swinging two and fro, hoping to hell she
didn’t drop the camera. “Stop playing with that damn thing like it’s a ball or
something. It cost me four grand.”
“Well, I didn’t plan on being the one who used it,” Catrina said,
winking.
She tossed the camera at him like it was a toy and not the very
expensive electronic it was. Dante caught it easily but still shot her with a
look, hoping it voiced his displeasure with her teasing.
When Catrina’s fingers slipped down and found the buttons of his shirt
she was wearing, Dante’s throat tightened, his sleep pants suddenly turned
uncomfortable, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. She undid the only buttons
holding the shirt together, letting the fabric fall open. Peachy flesh
displayed for him, giving Dante a peek at the valley between her breasts
and the smooth path leading down to the bareness of her sex covered by
black lace.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to have a little fun
with me?”
“People weren’t my subjects, Cat.”
“I think you’ll do me justice.”
“Why is that?” Dante asked.
Catrina watched him under her lashes. “No one sees me like you do.”
Yeah, this woman was so damned sexy it hurt. Catrina didn’t even have
to try, she just was. From the way her body moved, to how she watched him
like he was a God … it was enthralling.
Catrina spun on her heel, glancing over her shoulder at the same time
Dante lifted the camera. He didn’t bother to check the settings. Catrina
didn’t need adjustments. He did turn off that goddamn flash, though. There
was more than enough natural light coming in through the windows,
bathing his wife in a halo of color.
When her thumbs slid under the collar to draw his shirt down over her
shoulders, Dante was already taking shots. The shirt dropped to the floor,
exposing black lace contrasting against white skin. Catrina kept watching
him all the while.
He was sure she expected him to take shots of her as a whole, but he
had other plans. She was so gorgeous—every last fucking inch of her was
breathtakingly beautiful in a way he couldn’t explain with words. But
pictures? That might be something Dante could capture.
The curve in her waist. The red of her lips and how they quirked up at
the corners when she was thinking too hard. The swell of her backside, or
the small birthmark on the back of her thigh where her ass melded into her
hip. Those fingernails of hers with embedded crystals glittering on the
manicured tip as she turned, tracing her cheekbone.
And her eyes.
Hell, her eyes … Always on him, wanting just him.
Fuck, Dante loved this woman.
It smacked him like a kick to the heart. Swift and painful and drawing
away before he could think on it too long and react.
But it was there and he had felt it.
Dante knew at that moment he was fucked.
•••
When did this happen?
How?
Dante kept asking himself those same two questions over and over until
the words were permanently imprinted in the back of his fucking mind.
Another photo finished processing from the printer. He pulled it out and
absorbed the impact his wife’s sensual smile had on his heart and soul, not
to mention his body. The colored photograph had almost turned a black and
white from the natural contrast of the light earlier that morning.
Dante made sure his office door was still closed before clicking a button
on his laptop to print another photo. He had dug the printer and specialty
photo paper out of the storage closet earlier, wanting to see what the shots
would look like in physical form and not just digital.
They were perfect. A lot like Catrina.
Sighing, Dante massaged the ache beginning to throb in the base of his
skull.
He couldn’t pinpoint a time when he started to fall in love with Catrina.
There were no particular moments that stood out to him for why he jumped
headfirst into something he had always fought against.
The one thing he knew for sure was it hadn’t been a fast love, but rather,
something that grew over time. Slowly, like a seed implanted and sprouting.
Definitely a weed, though. Because once a weed was there, it didn’t matter
how many times you pulled it out, it still grew back.
Love.
It was such a sickening, awful creature. Like something had come
along, sat itself down on his chest, and now it couldn’t be moved.
Dante had long since trusted himself to make the right choices, to know
when to push forward or back the fuck off. Apparently he didn’t know a
thing if someone like Catrina could bleed her way into his veins without
him even noticing.
Love was hell. It kind of hurt, too. And not in a good way, but in a
really bad way. Because he loved her but she didn’t love him. Things were
never going to be the same after this. She wouldn’t want love.
Dante set himself up for failure with Catrina. He was going to lose
everything because of this, including her.
Simple as that.
•••
“Morning,” Lucian said as he stepped inside Dante’s condo.
Dante ticked his chin up at his brother from the couch. “Hey.”
“What are you doing still sitting in front of the TV at eleven in the
morning, man? We’ve got shit to do today.”
Dante scoffed. “No, you want to go eat at Cazza, fuck around for half
the day, then maybe try and get some work done later. I know you, so don’t
even bother trying to deny it, Lucian.”
“I work. Shut your mouth, cafone.”
“I never said you didn’t, I simply said I knew what your plans were for
today. Tribute is coming up and you always take it easy leading up to it.”
Lucian glared up at the ceiling. “Because it’s a long day.”
“Longer now that you’re an underboss.”
“Exactly.”
“Cazza for lunch?” Dante asked.
“It’s got the best food this side of New York.”
“It’s your restaurant. It’s not surprising you think that.”
“Still has the best food,” Lucian pointed out.
“According to you,” Dante shot back.
Dante pushed off the couch, brushing invisible dust from his pant legs.
There wasn’t a spec of fucking dust in the condo, not with Catrina around.
“I’ve got to grab my suit jacket from the office,” Dante said, canting his
head for his older brother to follow. Lucian did, quietly. A little too quietly
for Dante’s liking. “What’s up with you?”
Lucian cleared his throat as they stopped outside Dante’s office. “You
know where Cat is today, right?”
“Visiting with Jordyn,” Dante replied. “She and Kim are just about the
only two females Catrina actually likes. It even surprises her. You know
how she is; men are easier to manipulate than women. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
Dante crossed his arms, waiting for his brother to spit out whatever in
the fuck he was chewing on. “Do you have some kind of issue with her
being there, or what?”
“No, I just thought it was odd she goes over but you never do anymore.”
Yikes.
This was not a conversation Dante wanted to have. He’d been terribly
lucky to avoid it since Johnathan’s birth, but here his brother was basically
asking without outright saying it.
“It’s my son, isn’t it?” Lucian asked.
“It’s not John,” Dante said honestly.
“What else is it?”
The way you all look at me when I’m near him, Dante thought. Like I
might break into fucking pieces over a child.
“It’s not John,” he repeated, wanting the conversation to be over.
Without another word, he opened the door to his office. Dante realized
his mistake the moment he stepped inside, but it was already too late. The
pictures he had flipped through the night before after printing them out
were still spread out all over the room. Nothing was hidden. His distraction
lately had led him to forget about it before he invited his brother in.
“Holy shit,” Lucian whispered.
“Out,” Dante said, turning fast on his heel to push his older brother back
out of the room. “Now, Lucian.”
“No fucking way.” Lucian dodged Dante easily, slipping around to do a
circle in the middle of the space. “I repeat, holy shit, Dante.”
Dante swallowed his nerves, doing a quick inventory of the pictures.
None of them were graphic enough of Catrina in her various stages of
undress to warrant his anger, but they were very telling if someone
understood Dante’s mind. If anyone would, it was Lucian.
All of the pictures were black and white. Some of his wife’s smile, the
camber of her brow, or the fan of her lashes across her cheekbone. Photos of
her clothed in only his dress shirt, all the buttons undone but one as she sat
with her knees drawn up in a chair. Fingers clenched into bed sheets. Water
beading down skin. There were some he had taken when she was under
him, her body wrought with the explosion of a climax, but instead of an
entire portrait, he’d only caught the camber of her mouth when she cried his
name.
“I shouldn’t be looking at these, should I?” Lucian asked quietly.
“No,” Dante murmured. “Can we get out of here?”
“I don’t think so.” Lucian spun on his heel to face his brother. “I knew
you two were … intimate.”
Dante openly glared. The only reason his brother knew anything about
his physical relationship with his wife was because Cecelia couldn’t stay
quiet after seeing Dante kiss Catrina almost a month ago.
“Fucking, you mean.”
“Don’t be an asshole because I figured out your secret, Dante.”
“Fuck off,” Dante warned darkly. “You don’t have a clue.”
“Look at this room! Look at it.” Lucian waved his arms wide and said,
“You married because you had to, so you found a female just as difficult as
you. Mr. I-can’t-feel-a-thing just happened to get lucky enough that the
woman he found was attracted to him. You’ve been hiding it well enough
… making it work.”
Lucian barked out a laugh. “Jesus, have you ever been making it work,
huh?”
“Stop.”
“Not a chance, brother. Does she know you see her this way?”
Dante swallowed thickly. “No.”
“She doesn’t know you love her?”
“No.”
“Cristo, why not?” Lucian demanded. “What in the hell are you so
afraid of when it comes to falling in love?”
“I’m not like you or Gio,” Dante replied.
“What?”
“It was so easy for you two. You both found who you wanted and boom,
that was it for you. There was no questioning it or fighting against it. It
didn’t take time, Lucian. You didn’t have to fall in love, you jumped into it
because you didn’t feel like you had something to lose. And it was the same
goddamn circumstance with Gio and Kim.”
“What could you possibly lose, Dante?”
“Me. I didn’t want to lose what made me who I was. It’s what I’ve
identified with my whole life, and if it were to change, all of the things I
thought I understood would be gone. So I wanted to keep what I knew. Part
of that meant wanting to share forever with someone was selfish of me
because I couldn’t give her normalcy. No children. Her life would be tainted
by rules and expectations. Everything around her would be unstable
because of my choices and profession and that’s not fair for her.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” Dante said shortly. “You don’t get to argue with me
about this. You’re not me, so you can’t possibly know what goes on inside
my head.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Lucian glanced to the side, taking in a swath
of pictures. “There are other ways to have children, though. That’s all I
wanted to say.”
“Right, because adoption is completely acceptable in Cosa Nostra. It’s
not. We both know it. That’s like bringing in an outsider and people get
uncomfortable, even if it is just a child. It makes everything too difficult,
especially given the circumstances of the adoption. Don’t start going on
about how it could work—I’m not interested.”
“I meant a more medical way, Dante. Like a … donor.”
Dante cringed nine ways to Sunday. Yes, because he totally wanted to
design his child at a fucking sperm bank by eye color and heritage. Or
worse, discuss the option of one of his brothers being the donor. No thanks.
“I don’t want to talk about this shit. The entire issue was more than just
children. Stop focusing on that one fucking thing. I’ve known for years
children would be out of the question and I handled it. Quit poking that
goddamn nerve.”
“Fine, whatever. But, you’re awfully touchy on the subject, so …”
“Oh, vaffanculo, Lucian.”
“What’s the problem here?” Lucian asked, waving at the pictures.
“What’s the problem with her?”
“Nothing. Cat suits me. I don’t have to worry about failing her—she
wants the same shit as me. I don’t have to keep her safe like she’s some
glass doll because she can handle herself, and she doesn’t need approval
every damn second of the day to feel worthy. She has her own two feet to
stand on and she’s got a mighty set of claws hidden under that pretty
exterior. She’s perfect for me.”
“I’d tend to agree, except what you just said feels unfinished, Dante.”
“What if it changes? Or she could change. Five, ten years from now. It
could. I’m always going to be this person and Cosa Nostra is my life. She
might wake up one day and want out of her own game, or maybe she’ll
want to slow life down to a normal pace. I can’t give her that. And I didn’t
expect this.”
“Love, you mean.”
“I’m not like you or Gio. I’m me and it took time for this to happen.
You were like a dried forest and Jordyn was your fire. One gust of wind and
you went up in flames. There was no stopping it. Cat and I were not the
same. She was a wave and I was the shore. Her effects came in slow rushes,
building up strength.
“When it did crash into me and I realized what happened, it was too late
because she took me straight out with her. And I fucking drowned,” Dante
finished sharply.
“I am so confused,” Lucian said, frowning.
“Yeah, well just imagine what it feels like to live inside my head.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cat bent down to hand little Johnathan his stuffed bear. The ten-monthold baby grasped as tightly to the toy as he could with one hand while
making grabbing motions to his aunt with the other.
“Go on,” Jordyn encouraged quietly. “Pick him up.”
“Ah …” Cat didn’t want to be a bitch, but besides her nephew, she
hadn’t held many babies. “I don’t know.”
“Why not? The worst he’ll do is drool all over your silk shirt or use
your cellphone as a teether.”
Cat laughed before plucking the little boy up into her embrace.
Johnathan immediately started babbling incoherently and fussing with Cat’s
red hair and her silver earrings. As long as he didn’t start pulling on shit,
she was good.
“Have you thought about kids at all?” Jordyn asked.
Cat made a face. “No, definitely not. I’m not in the right business to be
having babies of my own. It makes an attachment I can’t afford to have.”
God, she was such a fucking liar.
“I know Dante can’t …”
Jordyn passed Cat a sympathetic look. Cat shrugged in response.
“That makes it easier on me, I guess,” Cat admitted. “I would hate to
refuse him something like that if he was capable and wanted children, you
know. Now, it’s just an option we don’t have and so we don’t need to
discuss it at all. Simple.”
“Seems sad.”
“For others, maybe. We’re doing fine like we are.”
“I couldn’t imagine not having Johnathan,” Jordyn said, reaching over
to stroke the babbling baby’s chubby cheek.
“He is sweet.” Cat wiggled her fingers and the baby instantly took
notice of the tiny sparkling crystals incrusted at the tips of her manicured
nails. In a blink, Johnathan’s little mouth covered her fingers and his tiny
teeth bit down. “Ouch, piccolo!”
“And teething,” Jordyn added with a snort. She disengaged her son’s
mouth from Cat’s hand before taking the boy back and placing him to the
floor once more. “So, why the visit? Not that I mind, but you know, Dante
doesn’t make his way over here a lot since Johnathan was born and you’re
always busy.”
“Noticed that about Dante, did you?” Cat asked, smirking.
Jordyn looked uncomfortable. “It’s kind of hard not to. I mean, we’ve
been living in this house for over a year and I can count the amount of times
he’s been inside on one hand. Before Johnathan, Dante was a lot like Gio,
coming over at least four days out of the week just to say hi. So yeah, I’ve
noticed. And it really hurts Lucian, even if he won’t admit it.”
Of course, it would. Cat could see, she had eyes. The brothers were
obviously close. Dante was simply protecting his feelings in the only way
he knew how. By building more walls. Cat would knock a few down
whether he liked it or not. He needed to learn there was more in life than
business. Mostly importantly, his family.
She planned on reminding him of that before he forgot.
“Did you ever think perhaps it’s not really Johnathan that keeps Dante
away?” Cat asked.
Jordyn didn’t answer, but guessing by her disbelieving expression, Cat’s
statement wasn’t being received well.
Cat bent at the knees, grabbing Johnathan under his fat little arms and
setting the boy on his feet. She kept her hands on him to give him stability
as he wobbled around the island.
“I’m serious,” Cat said, continuing to give her nephew her attention as
she talked.
“I’m listening.”
“For Dante, it’s all about how everyone else around him is perceiving
him. Others might think it vain, but for him, his image is the utmost
important thing. Emotions are weaknesses that crack hard exteriors. People
would talk—think him pathetic. Especially considering only his close
family, his wife, a priest, and his doctor are aware of his fertility issues.
He’s intended to be a cold man, but a man, nonetheless. How would others
feel to learn he can’t do one thing all men should? Would he be thought of
as a lesser man?
“Beyond that, he’s Italian living in a very cultured world,” Cat
continued softly. “Italians love their large families. It’s a part of being who
we are. Dante isn’t able to have his own and he’s very aware that those
around him know it, too.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it, really?” Cat asked pointedly. “You gave me a sad look not five
minutes ago accompanied by the fact you knew my husband couldn’t
produce children. Even if I tell you we’re fine with our circumstances—and
we are for now—in your heart, you don’t truly trust we are. Because clearly
we can’t be fulfilled and happy with only one another in our lives, we must
need more.”
Jordyn cleared her throat, refusing to meet Cat’s gaze. “Okay, true
enough. I’m sorry for assuming. Please, continue.”
“When he’s around Johnathan,” Cat said, letting the baby boy plop
down to his bottom, “… everyone believes they have to be mindful of
Dante’s feelings. As if just being near this child hurts him or that perhaps
your conversations about Johnathan bothers him because of his inability to
have a child of his own. All that does is make him think others are seeing
only his failures, his lack of children included.”
“I never thought of it that way,” Jordyn admitted. “It’s sort of true,
though.”
“My husband is not made of glass and he is not going to break into
pieces if you don’t handle him with kid gloves.”
“I know he isn’t.”
“So don’t treat him like it. Dante would love to spend time with your
son, to get to know him, and have Johnathan bond with him. But, I also
know what Dante won’t say to you, Jordyn. What he needs is to be able to
connect with Johnathan away from the eyes of others. Away from personal
speculation and judgement.”
“He can come here anytime he wants,” Jordyn started to say, seeming
confused. “Lucian would love that.”
“But, Dante wouldn’t. At least not at first.”
Jordyn glanced at her son who was balancing his stance with a kitchen
chair. “What would you like to do, then? I’m all ears.”
“Does he sleep through the night?” Cat asked.
“Ever since he was three months, thank God. He is teething though, so
sometimes he wakes up from that.”
“And he’ll sleep in a strange place on his own?”
“We’ve never had a problem with him staying at Lucian’s parents’ or
Gio’s.”
“Good. I’d like to take him for a night or two. Would that be okay, or
would Lucian miss him too much?”
Jordyn blinked her surprise. “Uh, yeah, sure. We wouldn’t mind a break
if you wouldn’t.”
“Of course, we wouldn’t.”
“This is good. He is the only nephew you have for now, so yeah, I think
some bonding time would be perfect.”
Only nephew. Right …
•••
“Ready? Open.”
Johnathan’s pink lips opened to form a perfect little O. Cat popped a
small chunk of banana into his mouth and yanked her fingers away before
he could bite them again. He was too interested in the crystals on her
fingernails and he all but refused to feed himself, so Cat had become the
very quick fork.
“Yum,” Cat murmured, bopping Johnathan on the nose.
She had set him on the counter as there was no highchair in the condo.
Johnathan kicked his jean-clad legs and giggled, opening his mouth for
another piece of banana and chance to bite Cat’s fingers.
A throat cleared behind Cat, but she didn’t react to Dante’s sudden
presence. He texted earlier to let her know he was on his way home, and she
heard the elevator ding to let him into the condo.
“What’s this?” Dante asked, staying in the kitchen entryway.
“This is your nephew. Say hello to uncle Dante, Johnathan.”
“I’m aware he’s my nephew, Cat. I was outside the labor room when
Jordyn delivered him and he looks just like his father. I meant, why is he
here tonight?”
Cat ignored Dante. “Ciao, piccolo.”
Johnathan smiled and his legs kicked faster. “Catty. Catty.”
“Well, he’s got you nailed,” Dante said.
“Be nice, Dante.” Cat stuck her tongue out at the baby and made a face.
Waving her hand as if to say hello, she said, “Ciao, baby.”
Johnathan refused to speak again.
“We’ll work on it, piccolo. Banana?”
Johnathan grinned before taking the piece of fruit Cat offered.
Dante came to stand at Cat’s side. “There are forks two feet away in a
drawer.”
Cat waved her sparkling nails in front of Dante’s face teasingly. “He’s
enamored with my pretty.”
Before she knew what happened, Cat’s fingers were gripped in Dante’s
palm and his lips pressed down to her sparkling fingernails. The action was
so innocent, so sweet, it hurt. Something cracked in Cat’s chest as she
stared at her smirking husband while he flipped her hand over and kissed
the pads of her fingertips.
“I’m pretty enamored with them myself, so I suppose I can understand
his fascination,” Dante murmured.
Cat wet her lips, keeping a hand on Johnathan to make sure he was safe
while never removing her gaze from Dante. “Oh?”
“Mmhmm, and I also adore what you do with them. Especially down my
back.”
Cat squeaked an embarrassed noise before tugging her fingers from his
grip. She smacked her laughing husband with the back of her hand. She
couldn’t deny the heat curling in her stomach, but she wouldn’t show it,
then. “Stop it, Dante. Little ears that repeat everything are right there.
Cazzo. I do not want to send him home to his mother and father only to be
told I can’t bring him back because he copycats your dirty mouth.”
“Cazzo!” Johnathan babbled.
Cat’s eyes flew wide and she turned to stare helplessly at her husband.
“Take the blame for that if anyone asks.”
Dante laughed harder. “I absolutely will not. You messed it up, now lie
in your bed, Amore. I believe this is what we call karma.”
“Please? It just slipped out and he wouldn’t repeat the other words. How
in the he—”
Dante shut Cat’s rambling up by kissing her. She gasped at the ferocity
of his kiss and how it felt like he claimed her mouth with every brush of his
lips and every stroke of his tongue. Dante’s hands fisted into the sides of her
silk shirt as he pushed her back into the counter. Cat managed to keep her
hold on Johnathan all the while.
Cat couldn’t breathe from the pressure building in her chest, although it
wasn’t a bad feeling. The coiling warmth in her gut was back, flooding
through her veins to the rest of her body.
Dante peppered Cat’s jaw with kisses before pulling away. His striking
green eyes regarded her as he asked, “Not that I mind, but when was my
nephew’s visit decided on?”
“Today,” Cat replied, feeling airless. “I thought it would be nice for us
—you—to spend some one on one time with him without everyone else
around. I know they make you feel like you’re walking on eggshells and
that isn’t fair to you or Johnathan.”
Something unknown flashed in her husband’s eyes. “It would be nice.
Thank you. Are we taking him back tonight?”
“No, he’s going to stay for a couple of nights. We’ll hand him back on
Sunday at breakfast before Mass.”
“He has everything he needs?” Dante asked.
“Sì.”
“Good.” Dante gave Cat one more quick kiss before stepping to the side
in front of Johnathan. Pointing to Cat, Dante said, “Zia Catrina, John.”
“Zia Catty,” Johnathan mimicked.
“Sì, Catty irato—bad-tempered.”
“Dante!” Cat hissed, poking his side. Her husband didn’t flinch, just
kept on smirking in that annoyingly cocky way of his.
Dante pointed to himself. “Zio Dante.”
“Zio!”
Dante’s smile grew but Cat was just confused. “Why wouldn’t he repeat
my Italian?”
“I think because he’s accustomed to women speaking English to him.
Other than the pet names my mother calls him.”
“Huh?”
“Jordyn speaks exclusively English to others, and on scarce occasions
because she’s still learning, Italian only to Lucian. Lucian speaks
exclusively Italian to John. That way, he’ll grow up with the understanding
of both languages. We were raised the same way. Well, Gio and I were.
Lucian learned from his biological mother and father.”
Cat knew very little about Lucian’s early upbringing or the
circumstances of him coming into the Marcello folds but for the fact he was
adopted and his real father had been good friends with Antony. She didn’t
think this was the proper time to ask about the rest.
“So, you don’t mind me bringing him over?” Cat asked quietly.
Dante kept staring at Johnathan, smiling. “No, of course not. I haven’t
made much of an effort myself and that’s shameful, frankly. My personal
issues with others aren’t his demons to bear.”
“I was thinking of making this a regular thing. Having him spend a
night a week with us.”
“I’d like that,” Dante said simply.
Cat was happy her suspicions about what Dante needed to connect with
Johnathan had been correct.
“Alzare?” Dante asked his nephew.
Johnathan’s chubby little arms flew out, his hands making that grabbing
motion again. Dante plucked the boy up, balancing the squirming baby on
his hip before making his way toward the living room.
“Coming, Cat?”
“Catty!”
Cat grinned. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
Later in the evening, Cat stayed huddled in the large recliner as she
watched her husband and nephew play on the floor. Johnathan had been
bathed, ate his small nighttime snack, and was now snug in his footie
pajamas while clutching his little blue blanket. A small sippy cup half full
with formula rested between Johnathan’s legs. He sat on the floor at his
uncle’s side, although Dante had rolled over on his back.
Dante pushed three age appropriate plastic cars in front of Johnathan.
“Uno. Due. Tre.” Johnathan touched each car as his uncle counted. “Ben
fatto, John.”
The baby clapped and bounced in his spot, making Cat smile and
giggle. His innocent happiness at being praised was sickeningly cute. Dante
seemed to enjoy his nephew’s joy, too.
“Verde?” Dante asked.
Johnathan stuck his thumb in his mouth and reached over with his other
hand to pick the green car.
“Blu?”
The baby tapped the blue car with his palm.
“Brava,” Dante said. Johnathan’s pealing giggles were muffled around
his thumb when his uncle swept him up from the floor and set him down on
his stomach. Dante tickled the child as Johnathan squealed and kicked.
“Mio ragazzo intelligente.”
Cat couldn’t contain her grin if she tried. Their private glee in playing
such a simple game was sweet and it warmed her from the inside out.
It also hurt.
Her mind drifted to Michel. Something painful sliced through her heart
like a knife. Dante may have accepted his fate to be childless a long time
ago, but what if he didn’t have to be? What if Michel—
Cat stopped that thought before it even began. It wasn’t possible. There
was far too much danger surrounding the child if he were brought out into
the open where his father could steal him back.
She considered Dante, too. The betrayal and anger he would feel over
her lies would be suffocating. He would never forgive her and good God,
the very idea of that cut her right down to the bone.
Cat blinked, understanding something she hadn’t before. She had no
real reason to do the things she did today for her husband. They were
friends, sure. Lovers now that she had given in to her desires. But mostly,
they were just partners in their agreement for the marriage.
Except … she let it turn into something far more without realizing it.
Dante’s intense gaze met Cat’s from across the room. He was still
laughing with a giggling Johnathan bouncing on his middle.
It ached so badly. Because she loved him.
What had she done?
•••
Cat blinked awake in the darkened bedroom and immediately seized
stiff. She turned from side to side in the bed, looking for little Johnathan.
He had been a bit fussy before they tried to put him down to sleep in his
portable playpen and Cat brought the baby into their bed to see if that might
help.
She must have fallen asleep with him. Where was he? Merda. She
would make a horrible Mamma to a child. She couldn’t even keep track of a
ten-month-old. How in the hell would she ever manage a newborn that
needed her every second of the damn day? It took Cat an entire minute to
realize Johnathan still couldn’t walk, she had placed him in the middle of
the bed between Dante and her so he couldn’t roll off, and he wasn’t crying
on the floor. She felt stupid.
“Calm down, bella mia. I took John to his bed a while ago once I knew
he was down for the count. He hasn’t made a sound for a good hour.”
Cat sunk into the plush blankets, sighing in relief. Through the dark, she
eyed Dante at the other end of the bedroom. He sat on a corner chair with
his chin propped up in his hand and his elbow resting on his knee. With his
silk dress shirt unbuttoned, it left his muscular chest exposed for Cat to
enjoy. She adored the tattooed eagle with its wide wings spread across his
pecs.
“What have you been doing for the last hour?” Cat asked.
“Watching you sleep,” Dante answered.
Cat lifted a single brow. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to and this is also my bedroom. You snore, by the
way.”
“I absolutely do not!”
“You do,” Dante replied, nodding. “It’s not very loud and you only do it
when you’re quite tired. It’s cute, actually.”
Cat made a face. “Really?”
“To me it is, I guess. I am such an idiot.”
Well, that wasn’t what she expected to hear. “Why would you say that?”
Dante didn’t answer, instead saying, “Thank you for today. I’ve been
stuck trying to keep myself disengaged from Johnathan that I didn’t realize
how much it was hurting me to do so.”
“You don’t need to thank me for that again, Dante.”
“I know. I wanted children, Cat.”
Cat sucked in a hard breath, forcing herself to sit up in the bed. “Oh?”
“Yes. There’s a difference between not being able to and not wanting to.
I never said I didn’t want them just that I couldn’t. I settled my feelings
with the fact it wasn’t going to happen. But I do want them. People assume
because I can’t that I automatically don’t want them at all. Really, I haven’t
given anyone a good reason to believe otherwise, so I don’t blame them.”
“You seem to be good with Johnathan.”
“Kids don’t make me nervous, if that’s what you mean.”
“It was,” Cat said low. “I didn’t intend to bring him here and have all
your misgivings worked up again.”
“John being here didn’t do that. It’s been rolling around for a while, and
I’ve kept it to myself.”
“You don’t have to do that. You could talk to me, Dante.”
“I know and that makes it so much harder for me,” Dante whispered.
Cat was so confused that she didn’t know what to say.
“I know I can talk to you,” Dante continued, dropping his foot the floor
and sitting straight in the chair. “About anything, right?”
“Of course.”
“Exactly. And we fit so well together. In bed, work, and life. We fit. It
works and it’s crazy. I hate it and I need it at the same time. That wasn’t
supposed to happen. It shouldn’t have happened and I don’t have the first
fucking clue how you did it.”
Cat swallowed audibly, feeling a dead weight rest in her stomach. “I—”
“No, I just need you to listen. You are in here now. All through me
everywhere. That’s where you are. You somehow make me better. It’s
almost fucking disgusting the way I don’t even care that it happened, either.
“It was like I turned around one day, blinked, and everything changed,
Cat. We agreed when we first started out with this that we would be good
together because emotional attachments shouldn’t happen and neither of us
wanted strings. Feelings weren’t a part of the deal and I am sorry.”
“Dante—”
“I’m sorry because I love you.”
Cat’s tension released all at once, dropping her into the bed again. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. So, I don’t know what you want to do with this or how you
want to go from here. Because I sure as shit know where I’m at, but I
haven’t got the first clue about you. It’s killing me. You’re killing me.”
“Love isn’t supposed to hurt, bello.”
“It doesn’t. Believe me, that isn’t what hurts right now. At first I thought
it did, but that’s because I didn’t understand.”
“What does hurt?”
“Everything else. I’m wide open. One giant target. My ribs might as
well be broken and spread so I can bleed out. That’s how I feel. I set myself
up for this even if I can’t figure out how. I am vulnerable in more ways than
one. For someone to hurt me by way of you, for my own emotions to
control me, and for you to reject me. I did this and it fucking sucks. It blows
in the worst way.”
“You don’t want to love me?”
“It has nothing to do with not wanting to,” Dante snapped, waving his
hand in the air. “Seems we don’t get much choice in that. It just comes
along, kicks you in the goddamn heart, and there you are—fucked.”
“Wow,” Cat whispered.
“I know. I am so messed up in my head right now.”
“Because you love me.”
“Didn’t we just get that out of the way?”
“I’m not sure of anything at the moment.”
“Me, either,” Dante muttered. “It was so easy for my brothers to love.
They didn’t feel like it was going to kill them. They didn’t struggle with
what it all meant. I had come to the conclusion that love wasn’t going to be
a part of my life because it made shit more complicated than what was
necessary.”
Cat fidgeted, choosing her next words carefully. “It wasn’t easy for you
to fall in love with me?”
Ouch. Was she that hard to love?
“What?” Dante’s head whipped up, his jade gaze burning into Cat. “No,
that’s not what I said. I said nothing about falling in love, just loving. Yes, it
was easy for me to fall in love with you. So easy, in fact, that I didn’t even
realize it had happened.”
“But it’s hard for you to love me?” Cat frowned, wishing this
conversation wasn’t so damn difficult. “That doesn’t make it much better,
Dante.”
“You still don’t get it,” Dante said, sinking into the chair and looking
defeated. “And I am way too screwed up to explain it properly.”
Cat tried to see it from his perspective the best she could. “It was easy
to fall in love, but hard to love.”
“Okay, let’s go with that.”
“Dante …”
“Listen, I am aware of how ridiculous it sounds.”
“Well, great, because you’re not making me feel particularly good with
the way you’re talking.”
“Why would you want to feel good about this, Cat? You don’t want me
to love you, remember? That’s why this is hard for me. You don’t want this
at all and now I’m exposed. I can’t pretend like I don’t give a shit. Not
about you. We’re business. No feelings. No att—”
“Attachments,” Cat interjected, nodding once. “But that’s the thing
about strings, Dante, even if they’re not strong ones. We tied a couple
between us at the beginning of this arrangement and they’ve turned into
ropes.”
“Now, we’re bound.”
“Yes. And we did that, we made this choice, so it’s okay.”
Dante’s brow furrowed as he stared blankly at the wall. “I think I
missed something, Amore.”
“You’ve been sitting there for an hour watching me sleep and stewing in
your own personal hell, haven’t you?” Cat asked.
“Sì. It was awful.”
“I wish you would have woken me up sooner, Dante.”
“Why, so you could have made a quicker exit? I’m still waiting for you
to run, by the way.”
“Stolto. You’re so stuck inside your own head and worries that you can’t
even see what is right in front of your face. My heart aches for you. You’re
right, this shouldn’t be as hard for you as it is. I am so sorry you worked
yourself into this terrible panic for absolutely nothing.”
Dante stilled. “What?”
“Maybe it was easy to fall in love with me because I made it that way
for you.”
“How?”
“Unintentionally, sure, but I did. Think about it. We progressed. It was
going to happen one way or another.”
“Are you saying you—”
“You’re not alone, Dante. I’m only just starting to realize I am so in
love with you, too. And for the record, yes, you made it easy.”
Chapter Fourteen
Even after Catrina’s confession, there was a small part of Dante that felt
like if he moved or blinked, she was going to bolt.
“You love me,” he heard himself say.
“Yes. Ti amo. I won’t tell you every second of the day or call you fifteen
times and leave sweet messages on your phone. I just won’t. But I do, so.”
“I don’t need or want you to do those things.”
“Good. Because I am not the kind of woman who needs a man.”
Dante glanced up from his clenched fists to meet Catrina’s gaze. “Then,
why are we even having this conversation?”
“I might not need a man but I want one. You, specifically.”
All of Dante’s reservations and the stress keeping his muscles locked
tight let go, washing him in some crazy sense of relief, love, fear, and joy. It
was an odd combination. These were big changes for both of them. He
knew without a doubt it wasn’t going to be sunshine and roses. They had to
work to make it work. Simple as that.
“This is hard for me,” Dante admitted quietly. “I feel like I am all over
the place and that’s not like me, Cat. You and me, we’re level-headed and
focused people. I am nowhere near that right now. How can you be
completely unbothered sitting there knowing what you do?”
“I saw you coming and I knew what for,” Catrina murmured. “You were
right, bello. We fit together perfectly in every other way, so why not this
one, too? It’s just love.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“And so are we. If anything, this might make things easier.”
Dante barked out a laugh. “Dio, how? With me constantly worrying
about you and you rallying against everything I ask?”
“Before our trust was built on the understanding our relationship was
simply a partnership, something that gave us mutual benefits and support.
Now, that trust has to include our attachment and loyalty. Love owns your
loyalties, hopes, and desires. It always will.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“For us, I think it will be. We had to figure it out, that’s all.”
“Love.”
“Love,” she echoed. “Come to bed. It’s late and we have a ten-monthold to be up with in the morning. I doubt he’ll let us sleep in like we usually
do on Saturdays.”
Despite his tormenting thoughts still running like crazy inside his head,
Dante didn’t argue with Catrina’s suggestion. He tugged off his clothes and
got into bed.
“You’re going to have a new best friend tomorrow,” Dante informed,
still watching the ceiling like it might cave in on itself.
“What are you talking about?”
“A guard, or rather, an enforcer. You’re going to have one starting
tomorrow. I’ve let you go on without one for long enough. I really don’t
want to argue about it, dolcezza. I just … don’t have a choice anymore. You
have to have one.”
Dante braced for the anger sure to come from Catrina. Surprisingly, it
didn’t.
“Because you love me, I need a babysitter?”
“Partly,” Dante replied. “You said it, Cat. You’re not the kind of woman
who feels a need to check in. Just because I’m fine with that doesn’t mean I
don’t need to know you’re still okay … safe. We can put down some ground
rules about business, how far he needs to stay back, and where he shouldn’t
follow you in certain places, but for the most part, he will be there in the
background.”
“You said partly, Dante. What is the other reason?”
“John. Lucian will demand his son have someone guarding him when
he is with us, especially in public. I don’t blame him, really. John is the only
small child in the Marcello family currently and he’s a boy. He’s incredibly
important and could be perceived as the perfect target by someone looking
to hurt us. His safety will always be a priority for me.
“When John is with you, the enforcer will be a lot closer,” Dante
warned. “He will act as your driver, for one thing.”
Catrina pulled the sheets higher over her body. “Can we talk about this
in the morning?”
“We can talk but we won’t argue,” Dante said.
“I didn’t say I would argue, but the more arrogant you get about the
entire thing, the more annoyed I become.”
“Point taken. I’ll shut up about it until tomorrow.”
An annoyed Catrina was not a good Catrina. Her claws tended to come
out sharper than ever before. He was pretty damn sure she got off on it, too.
Particularly where he was concerned. Tonight had been far too easy.
Turning on her side, Catrina’s hand found the middle of Date’s chest
under the sheets. “What’s wrong? You’re tense.”
“I thought I set myself up for failure. I told you this wasn’t what I was
expecting.”
“My rejection would have been easier?”
“No, but I was prepared for it.”
“That’s terribly sad, Dante.”
“Tell me about it. My head is a fucking hurricane.”
Catrina grinned as she moved closer in the bed, holding Dante’s stare.
Her red lips pressed to his softly, almost like a whisper of a touch. Even
being as light as it was, he still felt the kiss find every single nerve in his
body.
“Let me slow your crazy mind down, hmm?” Catrina hummed, her grin
turning sly. Her teeth nipped to Dante’s bottom lip, making pain ricochet off
his building desire. Yeah, he was so fucking in love with this woman it was
sickening. He didn’t even care. “Then, we can sleep.”
Dante choked on absolutely nothing but his unspoken agreement
catching in his throat when Catrina’s hand dipped under his boxer-briefs
and squeezed around his semi-hard shaft. His back arched off the bed, a hiss
slipping from his lips, as her grip tightened, waking him up. Catrina’s palm
was warm silk wrapping him snug, and when her hand slid up to the head of
his cock, her fingernail scratched gently along his slit.
A jolt of pleasure shot through Dante like adrenaline had been injected
straight to his racing heart. All the air in his lungs left with a whoosh as his
jaw clenched and he groaned. She held his cock tight enough for the
sensations to boarder a thin line between pain and bliss. An ache—one that
felt so fucking good—coursed down his length into his balls.
Catrina always had liked her sex with him a little rough and wild. She
didn’t want soft and slow or pretty words and lies whispered in her ear. No,
she just wanted him. As hard as he could give it, she would take.
God, Dante needed that right now. To get him out of his fucking head
and back into reality, he needed her.
“Is that a yes?” Catrina murmured along the line of his jaw, her
fingernail rolling over the slit at the head of his cock once more.
“Cristo,” Dante cursed. “Yes, bella … so many times yes.”
Catrina wasted no time pushing the sheets away. Dante tried to grab his
wife and bring her closer but she was too fast. Before he knew what
happened, Catrina freed his erection from the confines of his boxer-briefs
and she was straddling his thighs. Dante couldn’t see Catrina’s face because
as she leaned down to take the tip of his dick into the velvet cavern of her
mouth, the red veil of her hair created a barrier blocking his vision.
Dante couldn’t have that. While her lips encompassed his shaft, saliva
wetting his sensitive skin as her tongue struck against his slit, Dante fisted
Catrina’s hair, moving it out of the way. Beautiful, coy hazel eyes met his
instantly. Her mouth curved into a wicked smirk as she took his length
deeper into her throat. Dante felt his weight sink into the mattress, stress
leaving his body with every harsh pant of breath. He grasped at the bed
sheet, twisting it in his fist to give him some sense of solid ground.
Catrina’s teeth scraped along the pulsing vein on the underside of his
shaft, taking with it his control. A shudder worked its way down Dante’s
spine at the sensation. She sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing, and she
kept his stare as her fingers wrapped his base. The feeling of her blowing
him while she jerked him off was indescribable.
Flicks of her tongue hit against his cock. A hum built in the back of her
throat, vibrating the base of his dick in the best way. His grip on her hair
tightened, his fist shaking. When her teeth grazed down his length again
and her free hand palmed his sac, he knew he was going to lose it.
Dante loved her mouth, no doubt about it. What he wanted more was to
be buried so deep inside Catrina when he came that she would feel him
there for days.
He tugged on Catrina’s hair, forcing her to release his cock. Her quiet
gasp at his harshness was mixed with excitement and shock. Lust darkened
her eyes as her teeth cut into her bottom lip. The building pressure in his
spine began to subside, but bliss still ravaged his blood.
Dante released the bed sheet and grabbed her jaw with his other hand,
his fingers digging into her creamy skin just hard enough to make it pink
under the pressure. He forced her head back, keeping her stare locked in
his. Catrina sighed at his roughness.
For a moment, Dante simply gazed at his wife, taking her in like she
was. Lips reddened from her teeth and still wet from sucking his cock. Hair
a mess from his hands. Her silk negligée slipping over her shoulder and
wrinkled. There was a tremor in her thighs straddling him, like she was a
coil ready to come undone. He knew she was waiting on him.
Catrina watched him, too, silent and still. Those wide eyes made her
appear innocent and sweet. It was all lies. Dante knew better—knew her.
She was hellish.
From afar, Cat looked tame. As if any man could make her compliant.
That was her trick. It was exactly how she caught her prey.
She was a goddamn fiend.
If someone made the mistake of getting too close, she didn’t hesitate to
sink her fucking claws straight into their jugular and bleed them dry.
He loved it.
“Fuck, I love you,” Dante growled.
Catrina’s smile bloomed into a promising grin. “Sempre?”
“Yeah, il mia amore, always.”
Dante yanked on her hair once more, making Catrina move up his torso.
She stretched over him with a feline’s grace, her fingernails scoring across
the eagle wings tattooed on his pecs. The action guaranteed her wild side
was about to show. His muscles jumped under her touch. He pulled her
down for a searing kiss, grabbing her waist to hold her still against his
throbbing cock.
“I’m going to fuck you so damned good,” Dante murmured against the
seam of her mouth.
Catrina bared her teeth playfully. “I hope so.”
“You’re not a quiet woman.”
“I’m not,” she agreed.
Dante didn’t have to say it for Catrina to catch on. Their nephew was
still sleeping in the next room, the walls weren’t particularly thick, and
Catrina was a screamer. Dante loved hearing what he did to her like nothing
else when fucked her raw, but he did not want to start something only to be
interrupted.
“How do you plan to keep me quiet?” Catrina asked.
“I’ll figure something out.”
Dante’s hand skimmed down to where her negligée had ridden up
around her thighs. He fisted the fabric, released his grip on her hair, and
flipped them over so he was on top and between her thighs. Catrina didn’t
have time to react to their new position before Dante started removing her
nighty.
He tossed the fabric up above Catrina’s head and started a new trek of
exploration over her neck, across her collarbones, and down to her breasts.
Dante took her pink nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the
taut bud. When he released her breast, he moved further down her toned
stomach. Her skin tasted sweet with a hint of saltiness beneath his tongue.
Over and over he stuck out to lap at her flesh, taking in her essence. That
organic scented lotion she obsessed over made her smell like honeyed
strawberries.
Dante’s fingers skimmed under Catrina’s pale yellow lace panties. Just
as he knew she would be, her sex was drenched with her arousal. He used
his thumbs to spread the lips of her pussy before sinking the digits knuckle
deep into her clenching channel. Catrina gasped sharply, her back lifting
from the bed.
“Shhh,” Dante shushed warningly. “Cristo, you’re so fucking wet for
me, Cat. What is it that does this for you, hmm?”
Catrina whined softly as Dante stroked her inner walls with his thumbs.
“I think I know.” Dante bent his head down and covered her sex with
his mouth, letting his tongue lap at the soft material. Her body jerked at the
contact. Kissing down to where his thumbs were slowly working her sex to
the opposite beat of one another, he murmured, “Sucking my cock gets you
off, doesn’t it, bella? You love being on your knees and blowing me. It
makes you so fucking hot, yeah?”
“Yes,” he heard her hiss.
Dante chuckled, lapping at the tart fluids soaking his thumbs and her
panties. “Dio, you taste like heaven. Do you want my mouth first or would
you rather we get right down to business with my cock?”
He slid his thumbs out and replaced them with three fingers from only
his right hand, scissoring the digits wide on the withdrawal to stretch her
open for him. Catrina cried out loudly when he sunk them back in a curled
to find the fleshy spot inside her walls to make her shake.
“Dante!”
“Be quieter, Amore, or I’ll shove your mouth so full you can’t speak.
Answer me. My cock or mouth? Hurry, or I’ll make the choice for you.”
“Mouth,” Catrina whispered. “Please, sweet Christ, your mouth first.
Please.”
“How can I deny you when you ask like that? God knows it’s the only
time I can get you to beg me for anything, you stubborn woman.” Dante
was only half joking. Catrina could be that tenacious anywhere else but in
bed she was all his. Keeping the deep, fast rhythm of his fingers fucking
her, he used his teeth to scrape along the lace covering the hood of Catrina’s
clit. “How fond are you of these panties, kitten?”
“They’re—”
Dante didn’t bothering waiting for her to finish. He withdrew his
fingers, snatched the top line of the panties, and ripped the lace right down
the middle. He tore the lace until he could pull the ruined fabric from her
body. Dante ghosted his fingers down Catrina’s bare sex, feeling the
softness of her naked, sensitive skin and the glistening wetness on the folds.
He preferred her totally bare. That way, there was nothing between them
when they fucked. The musky scent of her juices wafted upward, making
Dante turn harder than steel. His mouth watered at the thought of her
arousal drenching his tongue as she came.
Catrina sucked in a sharp breath, giving her husband a displeased look.
“I was going to say I liked those panties very much, Dante. You bought
them for me.”
Dante shrugged, hooking one of Catrina’s legs over his shoulder as he
kissed her public bone. “Too late. I’ll buy you new ones. You ruined those
anyway, soaking them like that. I did you a favor. Quit your bitching, Cat,
or you won’t get what you want from me. It’d be a terribly bad thing if I
couldn’t give it to you. I’m awfully fucking hungry and your pussy looks
delicious.”
Catrina promptly clamped her mouth shut.
“There’s my smart girl,” he murmured darkly. “Ready?”
“Dio, you know I’m never ready when you do this to me, bello,”
Catrina whispered. “Makes me go crazy.”
Oh, he knew. Dante chuckled. “And you love it all the same.
Remember, quiet, kitten.”
Dante didn’t wait for Catrina’s response. He dipped his gaze from her
sight, slid a hand under the crack of her backside, letting his palm rest at the
bottom of her sex, and covered her slick pussy with his mouth. Instantly, his
wife shouted when he sucked her hard little clit between his teeth. Her
juices trickled down to his hand.
Dante released his hold on her clit immediately, glancing up with a
cocked brow as his silent warning for her noise. Catrina slammed her balled
hands into the bed, attempting to roll her hips closer to his mouth again.
“Quiet, I said.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Okay, I’m not. Please, Dante. I want to come. Please.”
Dante smirked and went back to the heaven between his wife’s thighs.
The deliberate strokes of his tongue swept between the lips of her pussy,
opening her for him. His nose nuzzled along the hood of her clit,
stimulating the swollen, throbbing bud as he tunneled into her clenching
entrance. The tartly hot essence of Catrina’s fluids washed over his taste
buds like it was the finest wine he ever had the pleasure of drinking. Dante
took in every drop he could with a groan that only seemed to grow in
intensity the more he ate her out.
Back and forth he went from her slit to her clit, the swift, hard flicks of
his tongue making Catrina’s body shake and her pussy leak arousal for him
to sweep away. The more of her he took in, the deeper the groan in his chest
became.
“Oh my God,” Catrina moaned.
Dante knew the closer she came to her orgasm, the louder her pretty
cries would turn. He used his free hand, the one he had fucked her with
earlier, to find her mouth while keeping his attention down where he wanted
it the most. Three of his fingers disappeared between her plump, red lips.
Catrina sucked what remained of her juices from his fingers, her cries of
bliss muted as her tongue swirled tantalizingly around his digits.
Heat bloomed in Dante’s groin as he went back down to her slit.
Licking teasingly at her entrance, he could feel the tight hole clamp down
around his tongue with every strike.
Backing off as he felt her telling tremors start to rock her thighs, Dante
glanced up to find his wife’s hazel gaze on him and his fingers still wrapped
in her hot mouth. Fuck, the sight of that turned him on like nothing else.
“Once you come all over my mouth, I’m going to bend you over, gag
you, and fuck you until you see stars, Cat. Sound good?”
Dante felt Catrina swallow around his fingers as she nodded.
“Good. Don’t hold back, kitten.”
Dante went back to worshipping Catrina with his mouth, keeping a firm
grasp on her ass and his fingers in her mouth all the while. The rhythm of
his tongue against her clit turned relentless, making her rise to her peak all
over again. Catrina bit into his fingers when she came, her leg tightening
around his shoulder and her lips muffling her scream. Dante licked away
every bit of her come before rising up and covering her body with his.
His weight pressed a breathless Catrina into the mattress beneath him.
Catrina grinned up at Dante, her eyes gleaming with lust and
excitement. “How do I taste?”
“Just the way you always do.”
“Oh?”
“Like a filthy sugared sin right down to your core.”
Dante braced his hands to the bed and held his frame above Catrina’s.
She leaned up just enough to catch his mouth with her own in a searing
kiss. His lips were still wet with her come, but his wife didn’t seem to mind
a bit. When she finally pulled away, Dante’s cock was so hard it ached. He
needed to be buried inside her—he craved her.
“Turn over so I can fuck you the way you love, dolce ragazza.”
Catrina did, taking her sweet fucking time to roll over onto her stomach.
All the while, she stretched like a little kitten beneath him, making sure to
rub her beautiful ass against the line of Dante’s erection straining through
his boxer-briefs. When she ground her backside along his length again, his
hand cracked down to her right cheek with a swift swat.
The snap of his palm meeting her ass echoed. Catrina buried her moan
of enjoyment into the bed sheets. “The more games you play, the longer you
will wait, Cat.”
“Liar, liar. You want me too badly to wait. Sono la tua puttanella,
Dante. Use me. Fuck me.”
“Oh, those are mighty dirty words for such a pretty mouth, kitten.”
“You know you love my dirty mouth, bello. Especially when it’s
wrapped around your co—”
Dante’s palm stuck down harder to the same spot on her backside as
before. Catrina’s milk toned flesh pinked under his smack the second time.
She sighed, backing her ass into his palm as she buried her upper half into
the bed. He knew what she was doing. Teasing him. Testing his restraint.
Working him up so she would get the rawest side of him when he took her.
Using one arm to wrap around her thighs, Dante pulled Catrina’s ass
into his groin. She pushed up from the bed, letting her back press to his
chest. The pressure of her body relieved his throbbing dick, but barely. He
shoved the waist band of his boxer-briefs down around his hips and freed
his erection to his palm. A single bead of pre-cum gathered at the tip, and
he smeared the sticky fluid down the crack of Catrina’s ass as he slid his
dick down to her slit.
Catrina wasn’t able to brace for Dante when he slammed his cock inside
her hot, contracting pussy. She hadn’t even taken a breath before he pulled
out and plunged right back in again. The force of the thrusts sent his wife
falling back to the bed with a shout of his name.
Dante didn’t allow Catrina to make another noise. He quickly reached
above her head and grabbed the silk negligée he tossed away earlier. With
his cock still buried deep, he twisted the fabric into a makeshift rope,
slipped it around her mouth so she was gagged silent, and fisted the silk and
her hair into his grip at the nape of her neck.
His move had been a surprise, so Dante needed to be sure his wife was
fine. Leaning down over her back and stroking the base of her spine with
his fingers, he asked softly, “You good, kitten?”
Catrina nodded and he could see her crimson smirk trying to form
behind the gag. Fuck, she looked good like this. Under his mercy and
control. Wanting him and so goddamn willing. The pulsing ache in his shaft
increased. Dante felt burned all over with a fever that only seemed to get
hotter the longer he waited. He needed to move—had to fuck his wife.
Straightening, Dante yanked gently on the gag and Catrina’s red locks
in his fist, pulling her up with him. Catrina’s hands flew out to meet the
headboard, bracing for what was to come.
Catrina glanced over her shoulder, the heat in her stare cracking Dante
right in the chest.
“I know it’s difficult, Amore, being as mouthy as you are, but be good
and stay quiet for once, hmm?”
A sly wink answered him back. She was loving this. Loving the force he
was using and being gagged while he fucked her hard from behind. His free
hand curved her thigh and found her clit as he withdrew his cock and thrust
in to his wife’s heaven. Their pace was brutal but so fucking good. Catrina
backed into his cock with every crack of his hips meeting her ass. She
turned to watch Dante with wide eyes and teeth gritting around the gag.
Over and over Dante pounded into her, his breaths turning into short,
harsh pants. Catrina’s arousal coated his cock and her body fit exquisitely
around his shaft. He kept his fingers pressed firmly to her clit, keeping her
nerves stimulated and her body close to blowing.
There was nothing quite like the two of them like this, Dante decided.
He loved the way she took him, never hesitating. The sounds of their flesh
meeting and her stifled cries rolled over his senses like liquid gold. It was
perfect, so damn good.
When Catrina’s shoulders began to quake, her walls clenching around
his shaft started to flutter, and a tear escaped the corner of her eye, Dante
knew his wife was coming. He released this hold on the gag, hearing her
sharp intake of air as the silk fell. Dante pulled Catrina to his back, turned
her head just enough to catch her mouth with his own and kissed her
through her orgasm.
His fingers weaved into her hair while his other hand held tight under
her jaw. Catrina moaned and shuddered, but Dante didn’t relent in his
tempo. That fantastic heat was beginning to build with a pressure in his
groin. His balls were tight and his back tense. Just as the milking
contractions of Catrina’s orgasm subsided, Dante’s release blew through his
nervous system with an almost blinding intent. The intensity took away his
sight and breath for a brief moment.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes,” Dante mumbled to Catrina’s trembling lips.
“Cristo, bella. You kill me.”
“Mmm,” Catrina hummed in response, grinning.
Dante struggled to catch air, falling down to the bed and pulling Catrina
with him. He tucked her tight into his side, wanting her as close as possible.
Catrina turned so she could press her lips to the underside of Dante’s
jaw. “Ti amo tanto.”
Dante chuckled. “I thought you weren’t going to say it every second of
the day.”
“It’s been a few minutes. You’re a man with a fickle mind. You might
forget.”
•••
“Where’s my grandson?”
“Right behind us,” Dante heard Lucian reply to their father.
Johnathan perked from his spot on Dante’s shoulders at his
grandfather’s voice. That kid loved Antony like crazy. Dante’s father could
be one mean, cold motherfucker, but when it came to Johnathan, he turned
into the softest teddy bear.
Dante knew better than to tell his father that, though.
“Behind you?” Antony’s brow lifted as Dante stepped into the kitchen
with Catrina at his side. His wife’s hand held his, while he used his other to
keep a tight hold on the wiggling boy on his shoulders. “Oh.”
Dante lifted his nephew from his spot and placed the boy on his butt to
the floor. Instantly, Johnathan was crawling to where Antony was standing
across the room. Cecelia smiled at her second oldest son, but said nothing
like her husband.
Honestly, Dante was shocked they managed to keep silent about him
showing up with Johnathan at the breakfast instead of Lucian or Gio like he
usually would.
Gio, however, didn’t stay quiet. “This is new. Since when do you tote
John around?”
“Giovanni,” Kim admonished as she leaned over the island to grab the
icing sugar. “Be quiet.”
“It’s fine, Kim,” Dante said, waving off her concern over his youngest
brother’s nosiness.
“Was he good for you?” Jordyn asked, her hands already buried into
some kind of dough. “Did it go okay?”
Dante knew the question wasn’t posed for his wife at all. All eyes
turned to him and he simply shrugged in response. What did they think
would happen with him and Johnathan? That a two night sleepover would
turn Dante into an emotional mess?
Right …
Sure, Dante had his asshole moments back when he first found out
Lucian and Jordyn were expecting, but that was mostly from the shock of
the entire situation. Never mind the fact that it all kind of sneaked up on
Dante in the worst way. Life usually had that shitty kind of effect.
“He was good. Really,” Dante said.
“Perfect,” Catrina agreed at his side. “We’ll probably come pick him up
next Friday, too. We should bring some toys over that he’ll like, I think. Just
to have them there.”
“And Cat decided she needs to go buy a high chair and things,” Dante
added, chuckling. “Something else for her to spend money on.”
Catrina smacked his middle playfully with their conjoined hands. Dante
felt his wife’s fingers squeeze his before she let go. Catrina pressed a soft
kiss to the underside of his jaw, and then joined the women who were just
beginning to start the makings of what looked like a buffet of breakfast
foods.
“Friday, you said?” Jordyn asked.
“Sure. We don’t have anything coming up,” Catrina replied.
“Sounds good to me,” Lucian said, sliding into the open table chair
beside Gio. “At least I don’t have to worry about a dog swallowing his
fucking head or something.”
“Lucian, watch your mouth!” Cecelia barked. “Mio Dio, that’s
completely ridiculous and unacceptable. Your son is right there and you’re
in my kitchen! I ought to wash out your mouth with—”
“Cain loves that kid,” Gio said, punching Lucian hard in the shoulder
from behind. “Fucking asshole. And he’s never, ever tried to hurt him.”
“Giovanni …” Cecelia’s eyes narrowed as her words trailed off with a
dangerous edge every Marcello man knew all too well. It usually meant
someone was in trouble, and being an adult didn’t make a difference. Dante
hid his grin with a fake cough and his palm, happy it wasn’t him. “That’s it,
every man needs to get out of my kitchen right this minute.”
Antony glanced up from Johnathan in his arms. “But, Tesoro, John and I
weren’t doing—”
“Get out!”
Dante was gone from the space before his mother really got started. He
was a man, but he wasn’t a fucking idiot.
•••
Dante made faces at little Johnathan while fifteen people in the pew
behind theirs stared at him like he was diseased. He ignored them. The baby
could have stayed downstairs with the daycare Sunday school, but
apparently Lucian didn’t trust them with his child.
“You know, I think we Italians make too big a deal of this whole
Catholicism thing,” Catrina muttered at Dante’s side.
“Oh?”
She nodded, crossing her legs and readjusting her seat in the pew. “So,
maybe not Catholicism itself but more religion in general. I don’t want to
get into the whole debate of religion and God. I’m just trying to say that this
whole farce seems a bit much for people like us. Like maybe us coming
here is too much of a distraction for others given the way we’re stared at
constantly.”
“The masks we wear are the burdens we bear, kitten. Church is one of
them.”
Dante felt his wife’s fingernails cut into his palm warningly but he
caught the twist of her smirk out of the corner of his eye. He only called her
kitten in bed, so chances were, the pet name made her just as hot outside of
sex as it did during the act.
It was never a good thing to be turned on in church. It made a person
feel like they were going to hell just for thinking.
Dante chuckled when Catrina shook her head and glanced up at the
ceiling. “Feeling like you’re being judged based on the lifestyle you live
just for choosing to come to worship is okay with you?”
Apparently their conversation wasn’t as private as they thought.
“Don’t you just love the smell of Christians judging other Christians
first thing in the morning, piccolo?” Lucian asked his babbling son he was
entertaining.
“Yes,” Dante said, tossing his brother a grin at Catrina’s right. “It leaves
a distinct flavor on the back of your tongue, right?”
“I’d say so,” Giovanni added in, glancing down the pew. “Kind of like
—”
“Self-entitlement and shame all mixed into one,” Antony interjected
quietly.
Low snickers rumbled down the pew.
“Hush,” Cecelia demanded.
Everyone turned silent with their eyes to the front where Father Peter
stood, still droning on.
“Well, that was nice while it lasted,” Catrina whispered so softly Dante
strained to hear.
Dante shrugged. “Masks, kitten. Slide it back on and smile like I know
you can.”
“Oh, quit it with the kitten nonsense already. I know what you’re trying
to do.”
“Nothing, bella. I’m doing absolutely nothing.”
“Right. If you’re good, maybe we can defile the confessional later,”
Catrina murmured in Dante’s ear.
There was one thing he hadn’t done before. It sounded awesome,
though. Dante stiffened in more places than one. “Jesus Christ, you are
wicked.”
“I know. It’s wonderful. Imagine the fun we could have. Church would
be a lot less boring that way.”
Well, Dante sure as fuck wasn’t going to argue that point.
Another forty-five very long minutes passed before the congregation
stood to join Father Peter in the final prayer. The priest blessed the
worshippers before bidding them a good day. Dante turned to leave only to
come face to face with his father.
Dante lifted a single brow, waiting for Antony to speak. “Yes?”
“Go on, he’ll catch up, Catrina,” Antony said. Then, he waved at the
pew. “Sit, Dante.”
He did, kicking his legs out to cross his leather shoes at the ankles in a
much more relaxed pose than he would normally take on in church. Antony
took his regular spot beside his son, staying quiet for a minute.
“This was nice. Today, I mean. Laughing in church. There’s a first time
for everything.”
“Cat’s … something else. She keeps my life entertaining.”
“I can see that,” Antony mused, eyeing his son. “Are you ready,
Dante?”
“Hmm, for what, Papà?”
“You’ve managed to do everything I asked, didn’t you?”
Dante shrugged, not understanding his father’s ramblings. “I always
do.”
“In one way or another, sure. Still, I can’t help but wonder if you would
have done anything I asked of you if not for your wife.”
Well, Dante didn’t know about that. “Cat—”
“Is your equal who tests you, makes you consider things beyond what is
only in front of you, and she makes you happy all the same. It’s crazy, isn’t
it? Finding that person when you least expect to?”
Dante wet his lips, laughing quietly. “Okay, I guess so. She is crazy.”
“Ah, there’s no guessing, Dante. I know it all too well. So, are you
ready, son? The meeting of the Commission is a month away.”
Oh.
“I want to be,” Dante replied, blowing out a breath of air. “I think I am.
The last few months have been one major overhaul for me. Taking over
officially is the next step, right? It’s what I’ve wanted my whole life.”
“You didn’t even realize how easy I made it for you to take over until
you were right in the thick of it.”
“You should have given me a little warning that first tribute. I still hate
you for tricking me into it like that.”
Antony’s hand smacked Dante’s knee. “No, you don’t.”
“Kind of.”
“One month,” Antony repeated quieter. “I have this odd feeling.
Something I haven’t experienced often before. I’m nervous for you.”
Dante glanced at his father only to see Antony sporting a stony
expression. “Why be nervous for me? I’ve had no issues from our side of
things. Everyone seems amicable to me taking over. I don’t see the
problem.”
“Our family is our family, Dante. The Marcello Cosa Nostra isn’t other
families.”
“True.”
“And I know you,” his father added, sighing. “She’s going to be right by
your side, no questions asked.”
Dante didn’t bother to deny it. Catrina was, like his father said, Dante’s
equal.
“The Commission is definitely not going to be a fucking cake walk, I
know.”
“No, but like we always have, the Marcellos dominate the table. You
met with the other New York families, yes?”
“Well, the Calabrese with Cat. That was … fun. They passed my
message along to the Donati family.”
Antony chuckled. “I only asked because I felt I should, but I already
knew. It wasn’t long before they took a liking to her.”
“Of course, not. When you put the option of a cheaper way to buy a
good product under their nose, they’ll always grab it up. Who gives a fuck
if it’s a Queen Pin with the contacts, right?”
Antony’s hand landed to Dante’s shoulder as his father stood. “Exactly.
There has not been a capo di tutti capi in a long time.”
The Boss of bosses. Dante kept his stare on his hands clenched in his
lap. “Almost six decades, actually. There isn’t a need for one with the
Commission.”
“Hmm, I would disagree. There is always a need to take as much control
as you can and you know why.”
For power.
Dante pushed away from the pew, straightening. He fixed his suit jacket
and loosened his tie, ready to be out of the damn things. “I don’t want to be
a target, or worse, make my wife one in an effort to surpass my father’s
achievements.”
“Ah,” Antony drawled, waving a finger in the air. “But you already
have, Dante. Exceeded me, I mean. Anything beyond what you’ve managed
to accomplish so far will simply be you building your empire higher. I am
so pleased, son.”
Dante’s lips quirked, twisting at the edges almost bitterly. “That’s the
thing, though, Papà. I no longer need your approval to guarantee my
happiness.”
“And that’s what makes me proud.” Antony gestured at the aisle. “Let’s
go. I’m starving.”
When Dante got to the end of the aisle and made a move toward the exit
of the church, Antony cleared his throat. “Aren’t you going to go and get
Catrina?”
“Huh?”
“I told Catrina you would find her. She didn’t go outside with the rest of
the family. She went toward—”
“Confession,” Dante interrupted, a sly smile growing.
Chapter Fifteen
“Oh! Can we stop at the coffee shop off the exit ramp before we head
home?” Cat asked.
Cat’s new best friend—according to her husband only—tossed her a
glance in the rear-view mirror and winked a little too haughtily for her
liking. “I knew that frilly shit would warm you up, principessa.”
She sneered in response. “It’s queen, Tino.” Cat ghosted her palm along
Johnathan’s dark curls, being mindful not to wake him from his nap. “And
watch your mouth. I don’t care if he is sleeping.”
“He’s fine. Let me guess, you want another soy French vanilla latte,
right? Deny it all you want, reginella,” Tino said, teasing Cat more by
calling her a little queen. The damn man knew how to work her last nerve
like nobody else. She figured he did it to keep her on her toes so she didn’t
mind. “You know my gifts make you like me.”
“Don’t huff too hard with your pride, sorca, or your head might explode
with hot air. Trust me, I wouldn’t mind the mess so long as you didn’t stain
my dress.”
“Merda, Catrina. You talk about my dirty mouth and then use words like
that. What would your husband say?”
Cat laughed darkly. “Dante would assure you that I could say much
worse and that he likes my dirty mouth very much.”
Tino clicked his tongue but kept his eyes on the highway in front of
them. He wisely chose to stay quiet and not bait Cat further.
Really, she didn’t mind Tino. He’d been her new companion for almost
two weeks. The man could push her buttons, but Cat was pretty sure that
was exactly why her husband picked him to be her guard. Tino provided
Cat with both challenging and amusing conversations. He gave her shit
back to her just as hard as she gave it to him. Truthfully, he had not been
what she expected for a bodyguard, but she was grateful all the same.
As Dante promised, the enforcer was waiting for her the very first time
she left their condo alone after their late night conversation on the topic.
Tino usually trailed behind Cat, but since Johnathan was coming to stay the
night, the enforcer acted as their driver.
“What’s the plan for principe John this weekend?”
“Boy, you’re chatty today,” Cat said. “You always talk too much, Tino.”
“Making convo, so retract your claws. Be nice and play along or this car
ride becomes dull.”
“I think your silence would be fantastic.”
“Sure you would. You like me, Catrina. I don’t care how you act.” Tino
glanced between the rear-view and the side mirror as the car drove down
the long ramp. “Where is the boss today, anyway?”
“Dante is overlooking a few contractor profiles to be added onto Empire
Development’s résumé.”
“It’s really growing, huh?”
“It is. He’s doing well.”
Tino’s gaze flicked to the rear-view mirror again but he wasn’t looking
at Cat, but rather, beyond her. “Where is he doing that today?”
Cat’s brow crinkled. “Why does that matter, Tino? He’s working. That’s
what he does through the week like always.”
“Catrina, where is he right now?”
She checked her watch, noting the time as late morning. “He’s still at
the office. Why?”
“Will he answer your call if you phone him?”
“Of course, he would.”
Cat was Dante’s wife, for Christ’s sake. Yes, he would answer her calls.
“Do that, would you?” Tino asked quietly.
“Tino—”
“Don’t argue with me, just call the boss, Catrina. Now.”
Something in the lilt of the enforcer’s tone sent a chill running down
Cat’s spine. When Tino checked his mirrors again, eyes narrowing, Cat
knew what was happening. She turned in her seat to look out the back
window. Sure enough, a dark sedan was maybe ten feet away from their
bumper. The windows, even the front windshield, sported a tint so dark it
had to be illegal. It also made it impossible to distinguish the driver.
“How long have they been following us?” Cat asked, squinting but still
failing to discern who could be behind the windshield.
“At least twenty minutes,” Tino answered.
“And you didn’t think to tell me twenty minutes ago?”
“I wasn’t sure, Catrina. They were too far back from us for the car to be
distinguishable. It’s a dark sedan. We’ve had at least ten other dark sedans
pass us since I noticed them. I didn’t want you to panic.”
“I am not fucking panicking!”
Catrina didn’t panic, she just got pissed off.
“You should call Dante,” Tino said.
“You should shut up and give me a moment to think!”
“There is no one else following us that will help if whoever is in that car
is someone who might want to hurt you or John. I need to focus on the road,
so you need to call your husband.”
Cat’s jaw tightened as she subconsciously covered a sleeping Johnathan
in his car seat with her arms to protect him. She watched through the back
window as the car tailing them sped up until the vehicle was only a few feet
away. The SUV’s windows were tinted quite dark, so Cat didn’t think they
could see her in the back, either.
A dreadful sensation welled in her midsection. As if her racing heart
had suddenly leaped into her throat while her stomach plummeted to the
floor.
“Tino, has Dante warned you of anyone who may want to hurt me?” Cat
asked, her voice barely breaking a whisper.
She didn’t need to hear his answer because she already knew, but she
asked anyway.
“No,” Tino muttered.
Well, then. Cat had little doubt of who the men were in the car, or rather,
who the men belonged to.
Bruno Savino.
Cat had been so mindful of the people around her. She trusted the men
she worked with to protect her. There had not been a time when she was
accosted by Bruno’s lackeys since she took Michel eight months ago. She
assumed—maybe wrongly so—that her marriage to Dante would frighten
Bruno away.
She was so sure it had.
“Are you gonna call—”
“Yes,” Cat barked harshly, quieting Tino instantly.
She cursed under her breath when Johnathan stirred in his seat.
“Merda … shhh, it’s okay, bambino. Sleep for Zia Catty, Johnathan.
Sleep.”
It took Cat far too long to find her damn cellphone in her purse. She
dialed Dante’s number and shushed Johnathan back into a slumber while
the call rang through. On the fourth ring, her husband picked up.
“Ciao, bella mia.”
Cat sucked in a hard breath, the panic she denied feeling earlier
brimming. “You’re at the new office, right?”
“Yes.” Papers shuffled on the other end of the phone before Dante
snapped at someone to leave his things where they were. Then, his attention
was back on the call. “Why, kitten?”
“Johnathan is with me.”
It was the first and most important thing for her husband to know.
“Yeah, Lucian called and said you picked him up earlier. Do you want
to meet somewhere for lunch?”
“No, I don’t think we’ll be able to do that. Dante, we’re being followed
and have been for at least twenty minutes by Tino’s estimation. We’re in the
middle of the highway and five minutes from the exit ramp headed for
home. There is not enough traffic to lose whoever it is and they are terribly
close to smashing into the back of our SUV.”
Dante grew silent on his end. So quiet, that Cat didn’t hear him even
breathe. A door slammed and her husband asked, “Are you sure?”
“Sì.”
“There’s been nothing for me to believe someone—”
“Because this isn’t about you or the Marcellos. It’s about me. I know
exactly who it is, Dante.”
Cat didn’t want to have this conversation like they were. Not separated
by miles and under duress. Her lies and secrets would surely hurt her
husband, but loving him meant trusting him, too. She needed to have faith
he would forgive her and understand why she did what she did, including
trapping him into a marriage under false pretenses.
He loved her, too.
Cat reminded herself of that when Dante’s tone took on a sharp edge
and he demanded, “What do you mean it’s about you? What do they want
from you, to kill you?”
“He doesn’t want to kill me so much as he wants what I stole from him.
I suppose if that means killing me to get it, then that’s what he’ll do.”
Cat would take Michel to her grave before she ever handed her nephew
back to that bastard, so whatever point Bruno wanted to make was useless.
“Catrina—”
She didn’t get the opportunity to hear whatever Dante said because her
phone went flying out of her hand at the same time the SUV veered hard to
the right. With no seatbelt on to keep her secured in the seat, Cat’s side
slammed into the door and her head cracked against the window. Pain
reverberated through the side of Cat’s skull. She shook off the ache,
knowing damn well she had worse before.
“Cazzo!” Tino shouted.
Cat fumbled wildly to find where her cellphone had fallen but couldn’t.
A flash of black outside the window caught her eye, making her air stick
like tar to her lungs. The car wasn’t following them anymore, it was right
beside them and threatening to swerve into them again.
“Drive faster,” Cat hissed.
“I can’t. It’s on the goddamn flo—”
Tino’s words cut off when the black car jerked sideways and hit their
side. He tried to move their SUV to miss the hit but didn’t make it in time.
Cat heard the tires of the SUV crunch on gravel. She hit the floor of the
SUV as if she was nothing more than a limp ragdoll.
Cat cried out, a sting stabbing through her left wrist. She flung her arms
out to steady her swaying and brace for the impact, but gravity took over
and she hit the ceiling. Without pause, she slammed into the spot between
the back seat and the front seat again, her lower half lodging under
Johnathan’s car seat. Items inside the car flew in all directions. Glass
shattered with a cracking bang, the dull shards littering the floor and seat.
Tino cursed louder. Cat watched as colors bled together outside of a broken
window.
Oh, Jesus.
The vehicle was rolling, but she was stuck, now.
Cat covered her head with her arms, tried to shove more of her body
under the space between the car seat and the floor, and waited for the wildly
fast movements to stop. When it finally did, Cat’s insides felt like they were
going through a mixture of seasickness and vertigo, if that were possible.
Silence covered the inside of the SUV. It didn’t last long.
High pitch wails echoed from Johnathan. Choking sobs that shouted his
confused fear with every cry. The pain in Cat’s wrist continued to throb as
she squirmed and wriggled her way out of the tight confinement. Glass
scratched her hands when she grabbed the seat to help pull her the rest of
the way out. She didn’t give a shit. Getting stuck like that probably saved
her life and kept her from flying out of the broken windows when the car
rolled.
How many times had they rolled?
Cat fell to the back seat, gulping in deep breaths to calm the nauseous
feeling. Her jumbled thoughts wouldn’t settle enough to let her think clearly
and her vision was blurred around the edges. She tried repeatedly to clear it
away by blinking, but still the darkness stayed.
Johnathan cried harder. Cat finally snapped from her haze, leaning over
the seat to find her poor nephew. Glass had scattered across the child’s coat
and hat. Fat tears streaked down his red cheeks. His wide hazel eyes
searched for something—anything.
“It’s okay, piccolo. Oh, Johnathan, don’t cry, dolce ragazzo. Zia will
make it better, bambino.”
Being mindful to not cut Johnathan, Cat carefully brushed as much
glass as she could from his little body. Tiny fists balled into the air as
Johnathan wailed, calling for his Mamma.
The sound of a seatbelt unlatching from the front reminded Cat of Tino.
“Principe okay?” the enforcer asked gruffly.
“Seems so,” Cat replied. “My phone is somewhere. I don’t know where.
Call Dante back and let him know what happened.”
“Got it.” Tino grunted as he moved around up front. “Shit, at least we
landed back on the wheels, huh?”
“That’s the good thing right now?”
“Just saying, reginella.”
For once, Cat didn’t bark at Tino’s teasing because it didn’t feel like he
was poking fun at her that time. Cat continued picking the smaller pieces of
glass from the still crying Johnathan. She was too afraid to move him from
his seat for fear he might cut himself or worse, have some unseen injury
that might be worsened with movement.
She swiped the dark curls from Johnathan’s forehead, wincing at the
inch long scratch his hair had kept hidden. It wasn’t deep enough to bleed,
so Cat thanked God for that small miracle.
“Damn,” Tino swore quietly.
Cat perked. “What?”
“We rolled over the damn guardrail. And you didn’t have your fuckin’
seatbelt on. Dio, don’t tell Boss I allowed that shit, Catrina. He’d kill me.
Fuck, he still might anyway. This is bad.”
Cat wasn’t paying Tino’s rambling any mind. She was too busy staring
out the broken back window of the SUV. A tall male figure dressed in dark
clothing was making their way down the twenty foot embankment that led
from the highway. She could see where their SUV had bent the guardrail
behind the person.
It wouldn’t have bothered her to see someone coming to help, except
she had the distinct feeling this person wasn’t there to offer assistance.
Especially considering another person jumped lithely over the bent
guardrail and like the first man, he also had what looked like a gun in his
hand.
Cat’s mouth went dry, threatening to keep her quiet. She never showed
fear—didn’t know how to allow the emotion to cull her natural fearlessness,
but this was not the same. Nothing could protect them. Cat had no gun of
her own, only the knife at her thigh, and she had to consider little
Johnathan, too. There was nowhere to run.
“Tino,” Cat whispered, turning fast in the seat to hit the enforcer on his
shoulder.
The phone he held dropped from his hand to the front dashboard.
“Jesus, Catrina! What in good fuck did you do that for?”
“Tino, answer me!” A familiar, dark tenor yelled from the phone.
Cat grabbed Tino’s shoulder, her nails digging in through his thin jacket
to focus his attention on her. “Tino, look!”
Tino glanced over his shoulder where Cat pointed out the two men who
were dangerously close to the back of their torn up SUV.
“Shit!” Tino threw the unbuckled seatbelt off his shoulder while he
leaned over and hit the compartment on the dashboard where his gun was
kept. Very clearly and in a loud tone, Tino started talking. “Dante, two.
Both male. Probably six feet, give or take a couple inches. Both have guns.
Unknowns.”
Tino slid a clip into the gun and clicked the safety off. Cat fumbled with
the damned buckles on Johnathan’s car seat. It didn’t help that the child
wouldn’t stop screaming and flailing. Not that it was his fault. He didn’t
have a clue what was going on or the danger they were in.
A scream meant to warn Tino caught in the back of Cat’s throat as one
of the men reached the back of the SUV, his arm already lifted to aim.
“Tino—”
Cat’s words cut off at the same time a muffle pop rang through the
space. Blood and matter splattered across the front windshield. Tino’s large
frame slumped over the steering wheel, his gun clattering to the SUV’s
floor. Instantly, Cat sunk down over Johnathan, needing to protect him.
If there was ever a time Cat wished she knew how to pray like she
meant it, now was it. She didn’t even have the goddamn time to figure out
what to ask the God she visited every Sunday. The back door of the vehicle
made an awful creaking noise as it was pried open.
“Move!”
Cat was flung from Johnathan as if she weighed nothing more than a
feather. Her back hit the side door with a snap, her head bouncing off hard
plastic. Her vision, still swimming with darkness from the earlier smack to
the head, blinked out briefly. She couldn’t focus on the figure snatching
Johnathan from his car seat.
Feeling blind and in a slow stupor, Cat searched for the sharp, small
knife in the sheath at her thigh under her dress. When the tip of the blade
was cutting into the tips of her fingers, she had to hold back from showing
the weapon and tossing it at the man. A wiggling Johnathan blocking her
target was the only thing that stopped her. She wouldn’t take the risk of
hitting him.
“He’s not Michel!” Cat cried when the man turned away with her
nephew. “Please don’t take him! He’s not Michel!”
“Doesn’t matter to Bruno. The Marcellos will deliver Michel to us if
they want their little principe and their new queen back.”
“No!”
Cat lurched from the seat in an attempt to get to Johnathan. An arm
encircled her neck through the window, choking off her air supply and
pulling her back. Fingers clawed into her hair and scalp, pulling her head
back. Dark, familiar laughter echoed in her ear, sending chills down her
spine.
“Hello, cagna. Have you missed me?”
Vomit threatened to gag Cat. That voice—oh, God that voice.
Bruno’s right-hand man Marc was a cruel, cold bastard. Cat only met
him once before. The first time she tried to help her sister get away from
Bruno. That encounter left both Cat and Marc injured. Marc sported a scar
above his eyebrow from Cat’s knife. Cat took two broken fingers for her
troubles.
Marc stuck his nose into Cat’s hair clenched around his fist, inhaling
deeply. “Ah, you still smell like strawberries and honey, ragazza. Just like
your whore sister.”
Disgust raged a war through Cat’s insides. She dug her fingernails as
hard as she could into his forearm around her neck. She could feel his skin
break under the force of her nails. It didn’t affect him in the least. The
tighter Marc’s arm squeezed, the angrier she became. She couldn’t speak,
scream, or breathe, but she was pissed off like nothing else. The knife
hidden in her hand down at her thigh burned into her fingertips.
“Guess what Bruno’s instructions were for you, Catrina?” Marc
breathed in her ear, his breath hot and foul in her face.
“You’re a bastard,” Cat hissed.
“Sì, we know this well, don’t we? Keep digging those pretty nails of
yours into my skin, cagna. You know how much I enjoy a little pain.”
Marc chuckled, the sound rumbling somewhere in his chest. “Bruno
promised I could teach you whatever lesson I liked while we waited for the
Marcellos to answer our demands. I have waited a long time to do just that,
Catrina. I owe you for the scar you gave me two years ago.”
A finger drew a pathway down her cheek, digging in the whole way
until he came to the corner of grimacing lips. “I think I’ll start cutting here,
just to mess up your sweet face. And when you’re good and fucking
hurting, I’ll shove your mouth full of my cock just to teach you how to
properly serve a man like the whore you are.”
His words didn’t frighten Cat a bit. If he thought differently, she had a
newsflash coming to him. His next ones, however, chilled her to the fucking
bone.
“I did that to your sister once while Bruno watched. He got off on it—
sharing her when she misbehaved. Merda, who knows? Maybe he’ll want to
keep you even after he gets his son back, Catrina. You look a lot like her
and we both know you need to answer for your misdeeds.”
“Go to hell, Marc,” Cat wheezed, her oxygen supply depleting with
every word. “My husband will cut your balls off and feed them to you for
touching me. But only if I don’t do it to you first.”
“You can try.”
Cat didn’t give Marc the opportunity to do anything else. She twisted
the knife at her side so the blade was out of her palm and swung it up with
damning force. The sharp metal sliced into his forearm and Cat yanked the
moment it cut into his arm, making the wound jagged, deep and long. She
pulled the knife out of his arm just as fast, not wanting to chance the risk he
might somehow take it from her.
A howl filled with agony and shock answered her attack, but the arm
holding her tight let go. Cat wasted no time flinging her body away from
the door. She practically landed on top of Johnathan’s empty car seat.
Turning around, she watched as a red-faced Marc pulled on the twisted
door. The accident must have bent the metal enough that he couldn’t get it
open.
When Marc roared in his rage and looked up to glower at Cat, she was
smirking. The tip of the knife’s blade was between her index finger and
thumb and her arm was already pulled back, aimed and waiting for the right
target. The warm, slick blood on the sharp tip did nothing to loosen her
grip.
“You fucking—”
“Missed your chance again, Marc,” Cat said cruelly.
The knife left her hold with a speed nearly too fast to see. It sunk to the
hilt in Marc’s left eye, sending him flying backward from the broken
window. His screams reverberated as he grappled at the four-inch blade
stuck inside his head.
Cat laughed when the idiot grabbed onto the hilt of the knife and pulled
it from his eye socket. Blood began to pour in a thick stream down his face,
and even when he pressed the heel of his palm to the bleeding hole, his life
source still leaked out.
“Should have left it where it was,” Cat shouted at Marc as he swayed
further from the SUV. “Now you’re going to bleed to death, you fool.”
Marc stumbled forward. Out of instinct, even though there was a metal
door between them he couldn’t open, Cat lurched back over the car seat
until she fell out of the other side of the vehicle. Wobbly on her stilettos,
she forced herself up from the ground, around the back door, and pulled on
the driver’s to open it. When it did, Tino’s body fell from the steering wheel
to the ground with a dead thump. The back of his skull was blown apart.
For a brief moment, Cat hesitated. She could hear Marc shouting and
thrashing. The blood from his wound was likely pouring at a steady pace
and blinding him. She didn’t care about him at all or worried about him.
It was Tino she hurt for.
Get a grip, her mind ordered. Move on. Too late.
Still, as she stepped over Tino to climb into the front seat, Cat
whispered, “Reposa in pace.”
Rest in peace.
Cat found Tino’s gun on the floor, made sure the safety was off, pulled
back the hammer, and got back out of the SUV. She walked around the
vehicle until she came to where Marc was lying on his back and holding his
face. The fat, useless pig groaned, his good eye blinking rapidly as Cat
stood above him.
“It’s too bad,” Cat murmured, aiming the gun with her finger wrapping
the trigger. “I so wanted to watch you eat your balls.”
Marc didn’t say a word and he didn’t try to run. The bullet entered his
hand covering his eye and his head smacked back into the ground from the
velocity of the shot. The echoing sound of the gun going off traveled over
the small, snowy field where the embankment led to.
Cat turned at the sound of a shout. Over her shoulder, she could see the
other man who had taken Johnathan. He stood beyond the guardrail with no
baby in his arms. Cat’s heart thudded painfully in her chest.
“Give me my nephew!”
“I can’t do that. You took Michel, now pay your dues.”
“You’re making a mistake!” Cat shouted, heat flooding her body as her
hand clenched around the gun.
The man shook his head. “Inesatto, Catrina. You have made the
mistake.”
Cat’s jaw ticked. “No, the mistake is Bruno’s. And you will die for this;
the Marcellos will make sure of it.”
“Not if they want their principe back, cagna.”
With that, the man spun on his heel and disappeared. Cat screamed her
frustration, hearing the squeal of tires not three seconds later and the sounds
of sirens.
Cat staggered back to the front of the SUV. Her vision was still blurry
and her mind seemed slow. The ache in her wrist had yet to ebb. Climbing
into the front seat once more, she ignored the blood and matter sprayed
everywhere as she grabbed Tino’s cellphone on the dash. Her heart stopped
when she looked at the screen.
The call was still open.
Oh, God.
How much had her husband heard? He probably didn’t hear the
conversation outside of the car, but the things she yelled he might have.
She should have told him … and not like this.
Cat pressed the bloodied phone to her ear. Slow, ragged exhales
whooshed into the receiver. “Dante …”
“No baby,” she heard him growl.
His voice was a mixture of rage and fear. Like unaltered violence
swirling in a pool of words.
“W-what?”
“When the cops get there, you have to say Johnathan wasn’t with you.”
Cat swallowed thickly. “But his car seat is—”
“Do what I said!”
“Okay. No Johnathan. I’m sorry, Dante.”
“A lawyer will meet you at the hospital. I will meet you at home.”
The phone call hung up. For the first time since her sister’s death, Cat
cried.
Chapter Sixteen
The moment Catrina walked into the condo, Lucian was on his feet.
Anger colored his features dark as he made a move toward Dante’s wife.
Catrina didn’t even flinch the closer Lucian came. She simply stood
straighter and kept her eyes locked on the man all the while, totally
unafraid. There was pain in her stare, though. Dante could see it and it cut
him to the bone.
Regardless of how mad at his wife and betrayed by her he felt, Dante
would never allow someone to hurt her. Not that he thought Lucian would,
but in his panic, Dante knew his brother would do just about anything if he
thought it would get his son back.
At that very second, Catrina was the only one with any answers.
Dante moved fast, stepping in front of his wife to stop his brother from
coming any closer. “Don’t, Lucian.”
“I want to know where my son is!”
“I’m so sorry,” Catrina said quietly. “I never thought—”
“Where is my son?” Lucian roared.
Dante bristled at the treatment his wife was receiving, but held back
from snapping at his older brother. Lucian was warranted his anger. “Leave,
Lucian.”
“What in the fuck did you just say?” Lucian hissed through clenched
teeth. “You can’t seriously—”
“Go home to Jordyn,” Dante ordered firmly. “You’re too pissed off to
think properly. If you were, you’d see what you’re doing right now, and you
would be ashamed. Go.”
Lucian’s shoulders turned rigid right along with his jaw. “Go home to
my wife without my son, you mean. Tell her that his aunt—whoever the
fuck she really is—is the cause of this. Right, okay.”
“I’ll get him back,” Catrina whispered. “I will.”
“Alive and unharmed,” Lucian added darkly. “Because otherwise, I’ll
fucking kill you.”
Dante brushed the threat off, knowing Lucian didn’t truly mean it in his
state. “Go home. Don’t make me ask you again. Call Gio. He’s already
working on things.”
Lucian shot a look behind Dante at Catrina before he grabbed his jacket
off the back of the couch and left the condo. The moment the front door
slammed shut, Dante felt sick to his stomach.
“I’ve already talked to the lawyers,” Dante explained. “You were lucky
there was a witness to the dark sedan running you off the road, because
otherwise, that would have been a mess I couldn’t clean. The detectives
want me in for interviews as well, which is fucking downright ridiculous. I
expect you to make sure your business is clean and quiet for a long time to
keep the heat off of us.”
“I know. I will.”
“Who is Michel?” he asked quietly.
“My nephew,” Catrina answered.
“The sister I couldn’t find information on?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead,” Catrina said.
“Why did this man take John?”
“Because I took my nephew—his son—from him, came to America
with Michel to keep him safe, and married you to ensure Bruno would stay
away. Or at least, that’s what I hoped would happen.”
Dante felt like someone had just kicked him straight in the fucking
chest. Catrina had given him a lot of information in two simple sentences.
Dante took his time absorbing the words and what they meant.
Lies.
Lies, lies, lies.
God.
Nausea pounded at his insides.
Dante blew out a harsh breath, turning on his heel to face his wife. “Is
everything you told me a lie? All of it?”
“No,” Catrina rushed to say. “I never lied, I simply omitted a few facts.”
“It’s the same goddamn thing!” Dante waved at her, his exasperation
taking away his ability to think properly, let alone speak. When he did
finally manage to get a few words out, they were angry and bitter. “Who are
you, Catrina? I don’t even fucking know who you are!”
“I’m your wife, Dante.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, I love you, Cat.”
Catrina tipped her chin downward, hiding her face from his view. “I
know.”
“No, you clearly don’t,” Dante said, pain slicing through his heart. “I
love you, Catrina. I share my home, my bed … everything with you. And
you just kept on lying to me like this. All you did was tell me lies.”
“Dante—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Dante snapped. “Nothing you can say right
now will make this better. I can’t trust you like I thought I could. More than
anything, that fucking kills me. It’s killing me, Cat. I thought after
everything that I knew you.”
Catrina’s head snapped up, her stare burning with disbelief and fear.
“You do know me.”
“I really don’t.”
“Yes, you do. Nothing I told you was a lie, Dante. I only—”
“Omitted very important, crucial information,” Dante interrupted
sharply. “Tricked me into marrying you under completely false pretenses.
Used my last name and my family’s power as a personal shield to protect
you from whatever vendetta this Bruno has for you because of this child. In
the process, you’ve put everyone that I care about in danger, Catrina, and
you didn’t give a single fuck about it, either. That’s exactly what you did.
Don’t try to deny it.”
“I won’t,” she whispered.
“Then how can you possibly stand there and say I know you?” he
roared.
God, his insides were ripping apart. Dante had never felt so entirely torn
up before. It was like his soul was tearing from his heart because of this
goddamn woman. How could a person love someone and despise them at
the same time?
“I come from a small village in Italy. My father was an ItalianAmerican my mother met when she first came to the States. When my
mother got pregnant with me, they stayed together, but once I was born, that
didn’t last long. My mother had no choice but to go back to Italy. My dual
citizenship was not a lie. Neither was my need to have full citizenship in the
States to avoid the possibility of extradition if something were to happen
legally.”
Dante’s jaw clenched. “You’ve already told me about this.”
“So listen again,” Catrina responded, anger heating her tone. “All of
what I’ve done now is for my sister.”
“Your sister,” Dante echoed.
Catrina seemed to pick up on his unspoken question. “She was my halfsister actually, from my step-father and mother.”
“Bruno’s … what was she to him, his wife?”
“She was his toy,” Catrina said, hurt dimming her hazel eyes.
“Explain that to me.”
“I will get there. When I left home, I was not as naive as my sister. I
understood how being a woman—a beautiful woman, despite my age—
could get me anywhere I wanted to go so long as I knew how to use my
beauty and intelligence. It didn’t take long for me to catch the eye of an
older, wealthier gentleman while I was working in a nightclub. I had lied
about my age and they weren’t a stickler for rules, anyway.”
Dante couldn’t help it; sickness rolled in his stomach. “I don’t want to
hear that—whatever went on with that man, don’t even start.”
“I wasn’t his whore, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“What, then?”
“It was Bruno’s father, Vincenzo. Here, in America, when people hear
about the cartel, they immediately think Mexico. In Italy, the cartel is
everywhere. There, the cartel is the mafia. It is one and the same. It doesn’t
matter how small the village, someone is working there, using the people,
hiding the products … doing whatever they need to do.”
“I don’t understand what this has anything to do with us, Catrina.”
“Nearly two years ago, the Pope excommunicated all Mafioso. Did you
hear about that?”
A memory flickered into Dante’s mind. One morning when he had to
wake Giovanni up for church and his brother blurted out that bit of
information as his reasoning for still being in bed despite smelling like
weed and a brewery.
“I remember. What about it?”
“It was because a little boy, his sister, and his mother were gunned down
by Sicilian cartel because of their father’s low-level involvement with the
mob. He stole money or drugs, or some nonsense like that.”
“That’s terrible his children were killed for his misdeeds, but I can’t say
I’m too surprised.”
“That is Bruno’s life, and he believes everyone around him can be
terrorized into control. He likes the power; his father did, too.”
Dante wet his lips, considering his next words carefully. “You were
involved with his father, you said.”
“He needed a pretty, innocent face working certain scenes. A girl who
could catch a man’s eye, act like a sheep willing to be herded, and then
drain him dry when he wasn’t looking like the wolf she really was. I was
able to fit in with the higher class, weed my way into influential men’s
pockets and beds—”
Dante flinched at that omission.
“I’m sorry,” Catrina said quickly, her cheeks turning pink. “I know what
kind of woman you must see me as because of that.”
“I’m not judging you,” Dante managed to say.
Honesty walked hand in hand with pain, and whether he liked it or not,
Dante loved Catrina. So, yeah, he needed to know these things even if he
didn’t like them.
Shaking those thoughts away, Dante said, “Please keep going.”
“Once I was in, blackmail and manipulation were my forays. Whatever
Vincenzo wanted, I was to get. I enjoyed it because I had everything at that
point. Money, social status, and so on. I was no longer an underprivileged,
poor child from the village. I was powerful in my skin, men adored me as
much as they feared me … so, yes, I liked it.”
“And Queen came from this?” Dante asked quietly.
“It was born from it, essentially,” Catrina answered. “Vincenzo’s
mistake was trusting me like he did to go out alone without watchers and
putting me in places with men who were more powerful than even he was. I
slowly made contacts and eventually began stepping out to do business with
some of those people. I had suppliers for my side of things that had little to
nothing to do with his cartel. I was making my name on my own time.”
“Queen.”
“Sì.”
“And he found out?”
“No, he died. All of his bad habits caught up to him and his heart
stopped.”
Dante blinked, not expecting that statement. “Oh.”
“At the time, I thought it was the best thing that could have happened. I
was free of his constraints and demands. I could continue on the path I was
making, and as I had already been working the aristocratic scene as it were,
some of my contacts and clientele were from America. Coming here was
the logical choice. I barely needed to do a thing but take a few men who had
already worked alongside me for years and held no loyalty to Bruno’s
family.”
“How do they keep from being deported?”
Catrina laughed, but it sounded faint and weak. “They have very little
and nothing to keep them tied down. They don’t feel as though they’re
losing much by staying with me. I’ve earned their allegiance. Fake
documentation keeps them safe on American soil, for now.”
“Did you lie to me about coming to America at all, or how many times
you’ve been here?”
“No, I was twenty-five the first time I came back. I’ve only been here
three years.”
“You’ve achieved a lot here in that time.”
“I’ve worked for it. I’ve sacrificed everything to be this person.”
“Your sister,” Dante murmured.
“Most importantly,” she agreed softly. “Catherine was her name.”
Instantly, Dante remembered the little girl Catrina introduced him to at
the dinner and reception after their wedding. He had—mistakenly,
obviously—thought his new wife connected with the child because her
name was similar. Now, he believed it was probably a little more than that.
“Catherine didn’t have nearly the claws I did, certainly not the kind to
keep her alive.”
“What happened?”
“She was so much younger than me,” Catrina said, winging her hands
together. “Five years younger and only ten-years-old when I left home. I
thought she wouldn’t care, that perhaps she wouldn’t even remember me all
that well, and he loved her, too. My step-father, I mean. He adored her and I
knew she would be happy. Shortly after I left for the States, my sister came
searching for me but she had no idea I was already off the continent.”
“And she found Bruno.”
“It didn’t take long for word to get to me,” Catrina stated, sighing
shakily. “I knew how he was, Dante. I’d seen him with other women and
how he treated them was like how a bastard might treat an abused dog.”
“Cat—”
“I went back. The first flight I could get on, I took it. She loved him, she
said. He didn’t hurt her, she promised.”
Catrina’s stare glazed with water but she blinked it away. Dante wasn’t
surprised. His wife never did show emotion well. He was finally starting to
understand why. Because before him, she lived in a world where feelings
killed people.
“I had no choice but to leave again. Bruno had become even more
insane than he was before his father died. Me being there only angered him,
and I could see him blaming my sister for my presence. I tried to take her
with me and nearly got myself killed in the process. That man I killed today
… he was the one Bruno sent after me.”
Dante could still hear Marc’s words to Catrina ringing in the back of his
mind. Like a shot of poison directly to his heart, fury raced through his
bloodstream. Somehow, he kept it hidden from his wife. She was upset
enough, even if she was hiding it.
“I tried to keep contact with Catherine once I was back in the States, but
I was ignored. Something inside me knew, Dante.”
“Knew what?”
“That he was beating her, using her like he did the others.”
Dante’s throat felt tight and dry, but he still managed to ask, “How did
you find out about Michel?”
“Someone sympathetic to my sister got in contact with one of my men,”
Catrina explained. “The informant was terrified of Bruno and wouldn’t give
too many specific details. It was enough, though.”
“Enough for what?”
“To send me back again.” Catrina’s shoulders slumped as she shook her
head. Pressing her palm to her forehead, she sat down on the couch. Dante
surveyed his wife in silence, unsure of what to say or do. He was still so
torn inside over what she had done and how she had lied to him. “I watched
him and her for weeks, his men, too. I found her pregnant and beaten. Very
pregnant.
“I was smarter the second time around,” she continued, glancing up at
Dante with a sad smile. “We flew in on a privately chartered jet. We stayed
in the shadows making sure no one who might recognize us would catch us
by mistake. I waited, thinking maybe I could bring her back with me if only
I could catch her when he wasn’t there … and then she had him.”
“Michel, you mean.”
“Yes. Catherine was quite pregnant, but she wasn’t far enough along to
be due. Bruno beat her into labor one night. She gave birth alone and
scared, and my sister died before morning from blood loss and I imagine
shock. But he was so revered that his idiots couldn’t help but celebrate the
birth of the little boy and that was how I learned he had made his way into
the world.”
Catrina shrugged. “So, I waited a little longer. When Bruno left the boy
alone with the nanny, I went in. I brought the nanny, too. She had tried to
help my sister shortly before she died, or at least, that’s what she said. I
believed her only because she spoke of Catherine in a familiar way. She
also cared for Michel.”
“You must not have gotten away as cleanly as you assumed, considering
Bruno is still after you,” Dante pointed out.
“No, I got out perfectly unscathed with Bruno and his fools none the
wiser. Problem was, no one cared for my sister but me. Even our parents,
once she left in search of me, had wiped their hands clean of her. No one
would have defied Bruno like I would have. He knew, Dante. Bruno didn’t
have to see me or be told it was me to know who had taken the child.”
“His child.”
Catrina smirked, the sight almost cruel. “It’s not his son. He claims
Michel, but the baby doesn’t belong to Bruno.”
Dante’s brow crinkled in his confusion. “How could you know that?”
“Michel is brown-eyed. Both my sister and Bruno are blue-eyed. Bruno
has black hair, my sister had red hair like me. Michel is a dark blonde. And
his skin is light, not tanned like a Sicilian’s.”
“You’re assuming, but you don’t know for sure whether or not he is that
man’s son,” Dante said.
“According to the nanny, once I was able to get her calm and promise
her safety, she explained a few things, also.”
“Like what?”
“Like how Bruno would share my sister with others as punishment.”
That sick feeling slammed into Dante with a vengeance. “Cazzo.”
“Maybe he never would have hurt Michel. Maybe he would have
treated the boy like a little king. Who knows? I wasn’t willing to risk the
chance that he might not, Dante. Michel is my blood, too, and the one thing
I have left of Catherine. All I can do for my sister now is protect that boy,
so I did what I had to. I’m sorry for hurting you, and for little Johnathan,
but if you knew what I was running from—”
“I never would have married you,” Dante interjected, his words a
whisper.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Catrina replied. “I do love you. So very
much.”
“I know, Amore.”
Of course, he did. It still hurt.
“How did I get on your radar?” Dante asked, clearing his throat of the
thickness building.
“I told you before when we had that first meeting.”
“When you broke into the condo, you mean.”
“Semantics. I didn’t lie about that, either. We work in a similar trade,
some of our business tends to intermingle in certain avenues. Word had
traveled a year or so earlier that the successor for the Marcellos might be
looking for an arrangement of the wedding sort. It was the only thing I
could think of to do when I had Michel back in the States. Once he was
settled and I knew he was safe, I made my move to get my men on your
radar, and then I sought you out.”
“How old is the child?” Dante asked.
“Eight months last Monday.”
“Jesus, he was practically brand new when you came to me.”
“I had no choice but to leave him. I didn’t want to take the chance
Bruno might come looking sooner rather than later, and I couldn’t take the
risk of having Michel close to me if he did come.”
“The nanny still cares for him, then?”
“Yes, Isa watches over him.”
“Have you seen him since marrying me?” Dante asked.
“Once. The trip to LA was a cover for me being gone.”
“A lie, you mean. Another one.”
“Okay, a lie,” Catrina admitted.
Dante rubbed circles into his forehead. He was entirely over the whole
goddamn day. “And where is he located?”
“Not far out of the city.”
Dante didn’t even have to think about it. His choice was cemented
instantly. “Get ready, Cat, we’re leaving.”
Catrina seemed stunned. “What, to where?”
“I said get ready, it’s time to bring him home.”
“What about Johnathan?”
“I have people on the streets digging for info. Right now, it’s the best
we can do unless the men who took him contact us directly before
something comes up.”
Catrina hesitated. “You’re not planning on bringing Michel out into the
open to draw them from hiding, right?”
“I would never do that,” Dante said firmly. “He’s just a child, one who
deserves to be properly cared for, not kept away from the only family he has
left.”
Catrina stood from the couch. Dante turned away, needing a second to
think without his wife gauging his every reaction. Catrina was far too apt at
reading other people’s actions and what they truly meant.
A little boy …
Was this his one chance at something that had been impossible?
Dante glanced over his shoulder. “I understand why you hid it from me,
but I don’t like it at all.”
Catrina stilled, her fingers clenching tight around her bag. “I knew
exactly what I was giving up marrying you. My reputation—being the
queen. I was ready for that, Dante.”
“But?” he asked.
“But I was not ready for you.”
“I wasn’t ready for you, either.”
“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. I thought if we could keep this as
strictly business, you wouldn’t be hurt by me in the end. Everyone is always
getting hurt by me.”
Maybe she had hurt him.
But she had saved him and made him so much better in a lot of ways,
too.
•••
“Grazie, Isa,” Catrina said, kissing the older woman’s cheek. “I’m sorry
I haven’t visited more. I couldn’t. It was too dangerous.”
“Lo so,” Isa replied, smiling. “I think he misses you after the last time,
though.”
Catrina made a face. “He was too little to remember me.”
“They’re never too little, ragazza.”
Isa watched Dante from the side as he leaned against the wall, observing
the women’s exchange. “Il marito?”
“Sì,” Dante said, answering Isa’s question if he was Catrina’s husband.
“He’s handsome,” Isa whispered, albeit not very quietly, to Catrina with
a conspiratorial grin.
“He is,” Catrina agreed.
Dante shook his head, amused at the two women as their conversation
turned to only Italian. Catrina asked about Michel’s welfare, how much he
had grown, and if he was speaking any words. When the chat turned to Isa’s
family back in Italy, Dante gave the two some privacy from his presence.
Isa would likely want to return home if she could, given the sadness in
her tone as she spoke about her daughter and two adult sons she left behind
to help Catrina.
“You’ll be safe,” Dante heard Catrina murmur in Italian. “I promise,
we’ll make sure of it, even if we have to start you all out somewhere new.
After what you’ve done for Michel, you deserve it, Isa.”
“You mustn’t allow that man to take him back, Catrina.”
“We won’t.”
Dante took careful note of his wife’s words. Not that she wouldn’t allow
it to happen, but they wouldn’t. Him and her together, because they were a
partnership, even if he was terribly angry with her for the things she did.
Glancing around the small, bungalow-style home, Dante was relieved to
notice the place was well maintained. It was clean, warm, and seemingly
safe. A few toys were scattered in the corner by an infant rocker. A playpen
rested in the corner, empty but for a blue blanket. Isa seemed to be around
the same age as Cecelia. He guessed to the quiet neighborhood, Isa
probably looked like an older mother if, or when, she took the child out.
It was the perfect spot, Dante knew. Catrina had set the woman and
Michel up well for as long as they needed. He smiled privately. They
wouldn’t need it anymore. Not after tonight.
“But he is not American and he has no papers,” Isa argued quietly,
drawing Dante’s attention. “What about that?”
“We’ll take care of it,” Dante said, turning back to face the women.
Catrina offered her husband a thankful smile, her hand reaching out for him.
Dante moved to take it without question. “I have more than enough
connections to get Michel whatever documentation he needs. Even the
government couldn’t make as good of a forgery as my people can.”
Isa snorted. “So sure.”
“Positive, actually.”
“Don’t worry, Isa,” Catrina said. “Bruno is the only danger Michel faces
and I …”
Dante flinched, knowing what his wife was going to say before she
trailed off. Steeling his nerves and swallowing his pissed off pride, Dante
said for Catrina, “Cat took care of it, and she married a man unafraid of
someone like Bruno so that Michel could be safe.”
“Yes,” Catrina said softly. “And I so love this man.”
Dante’s fingers interwoven with his wife’s squeezed gently, but he kept
quiet. Later, he knew. They would have so much time later to get out every
little last thing they had to say. Or him, mostly.
“Is he sleeping?” Catrina asked.
Isa nodded. “He sleeps well.”
“What about his shots and things?” Dante asked his wife. “Is he up to
date on all of that?”
“No, I’ve had trouble getting paperwork made for a child his age that
would pass inspection.”
“You could have paid for a doctor to take care of him on the down low.”
Catrina’s guilt was plain to see, but as always, the woman was stubborn.
“I haven’t had the chance to find one who would also stay off your radar if
you checked into my business. The more money I shuffled around, the more
likely you were to notice something was up.”
Dante suppressed his frown, knowing she was right. Joining their
accounts and having an all access pass to survey hers had been a major
stickler for him; he wouldn’t have to wonder if Catrina was doing things
behind his back. “Cat, my parents missed a very vital vaccine for me by a
few months and it cost me a great deal.”
“I know it did,” Catrina replied, ignoring Isa’s curious stare. “We can
get him caught up.”
“There’s a schedule for that sort of thing and it needs to be followed,”
Dante pointed out.
“Dante, please. Not right now.”
“Yes, right now, Cat. This is important to me.”
Catrina sighed, meeting his gaze with a nod of acceptance. “What about
Paulie? Could he …?”
“Possibly,” Dante said. “Or at least, he could get Michel started. It
might take a few days before he can get a hold of the first round, however.”
Letting go of Catrina’s hand, Dante excused himself from the two
women for a moment. He entered the small bathroom, taking note of the
baby tub inside the large bath and the squeaky toys lined up along the
counter. Shutting the door to have privacy, Dante pulled out his cell and
dialed his consigliere.
After the fourth ring, Dante wondered if Paulie was even going to pick
up the damn call. It was late and Dante wouldn’t usually bother Paulie with
nonsense unless it was important during the evenings. That’s what Lucian
was for, now. He should have known better—the boss was calling. Even if
Paulie had nearly three decades of life on Dante, he would never shun his
boss’s call.
“Ciao, boss,” Paulie answered, chipper as ever.
Dante couldn’t help but smile at the greeting. “Inside your head, you’re
really calling me by my name.”
“I do, but I catch myself before it slips out. I knew your father back
when we still played in mud puddles and not once did I ever answer his
calls with anything less than the word boss on the tip of my tongue. What’s
up?”
“Well, it’s a bit of a delicate situation.”
“They always are when it comes to you brothers.”
“I don’t want anyone knowing just yet,” Dante said.
“All right, then. Spit it out.”
Quickly, glossing over the important details of Michel’s relation to
Catrina and how he came to be in the States, Dante gave an abridged
version of what they were dealing with and what was needed. Paulie,
always patient, took it in stride and stayed silent until Dante was finished.
“I’m not surprised this would be one of the first things on your mind,”
Paulie said, referring to vaccinations. “Given everything that happened to
you, I mean.”
“Yes, well …”
“I don’t blame you. I’ll keep quiet until you’re ready to introduce him to
the rest of the family. The vaccines can be gotten easily enough and his
schedule started until you get his proper paperwork done up and get him a
family doctor. Are you going to raise him as your son?”
Dante would be a goddamn liar if he said that thought never crossed his
mind. “I want to, yes.”
Paulie laughed deeply. “Women always have this way of turning our
lives completely upside down, don’t they?”
“I never said a thing about this child in regards to my wife.”
“You don’t have to, I can tell without your confirmation,” Paulie
replied. “I also know you would never stir up issues unless you absolutely
had to. Besides, there is no reason for a woman of Catrina’s caliber to settle
herself into an arranged marriage with a man like you unless she had
something incredibly important to keep safe and hidden. Even if you two
have found … well, love, I suppose.”
“He’s not her child,” Dante admitted. “He belongs to her deceased
sister.”
Paulie grew silent for longer than Dante liked. “For your sake, as well
as your wife’s, I suggest you introduce him as biologically hers to anyone
outside your immediate circle. You know as well as I do that Cosa Nostra
doesn’t—”
“Look highly upon adoption outside of inner family adoption. Yeah, I
know.”
“It will make the integration a little smoother, at least. Less questioning,
anyway.”
“Thank you,” Dante said, relieved and satisfied at how the conversation
had gone.
Dante was almost positive he could see Paulie’s smile as the man said,
“It’s my job to keep you happy, boss. I’ll see you and the little boy within a
couple of days. Good luck.”
With the phone call ended, Dante left the confines of the bathroom.
Immediately, his gaze caught the squirming bundle of a blue blanket in
Catrina’s arms. The baby must have woken up while he was on the phone or
someone had gotten him up, but Dante hadn’t heard the child. Catrina held
the child straight so his back was facing Dante. Chubby arms waved, a palm
patting his aunt’s lips, making Catrina’s smile bloom.
It was a sight Dante had never seen her wear before. Sure, she smiled
for him in her own private way and certainly for others when the situation
called for it. Catrina’s mask never fell, but this smile, it wasn’t the same. It
spoke entirely of love, joy, and liberation.
Catrina caught Dante watching from across the room. Carefully, she
turned the eight-month-old boy around as Dante crossed the floor to meet
the child his wife had worked so hard to protect.
Innocent brown eyes met Dante’s. Michel grinned wide like the man he
was staring at had been the one person he was looking for and just like that
…
Dante’s heart kick-started with a fast rhythm. Warmth flooded his veins.
Any residual anger dissipated as if it hadn’t even been there to begin with.
Impossibility suddenly turned to reality in a blink.
Just like that, Dante fell in love all over again.
Chapter Seventeen
“For a minute, I felt like I was just another fucking pawn on your chess
board, Catrina.”
“You’re not.”
“I know, but you made me feel that way.”
Cat sat on the edge of the bed and allowed her husband to get out his
anger. Once they’d arrived back at the condo and settled Michel into the
portable playpen to sleep for the night, they retired to their room.
And then her husband started talking. His confusion and pain over her
actions and secrets came rushing out of him like verbal waves drowning her
in hurt. Dante deserved the chance to say what he had to say and she was
more than willing to take whatever he tossed at her.
Of course, he surprised her.
“Come here,” Dante demanded quietly.
Cat stood from the bed and walked to meet him where he sat in the
corner chair. Dante’s hands reached up and snagged hers in his light grasp.
Cat felt the tension leave her body at the easy touch of her husband as his
thumbs rolled soothingly over her fingers.
“You’re not one of my pawns, Dante.”
Dante nodded and silently tugged her down into his lap. Cat straddled
him with her knees resting to his outer thighs. He fisted the hem of her
negligée, bunching the silk around her hips. “I’m so angry with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
A cloudy sadness colored Dante’s green eyes as he regarded her under
the lamp’s light. “You know, for once I actually believe you when you say
it.”
Cat leaned down and kissed his frowning lips, whispering against is
mouth, “You would have turned me away, Dante.”
“I wouldn’t have you now.”
“No.”
“I’m still so fucking angry with you.”
“That’s okay,” Cat murmured. “I’m a big girl … I can handle it.”
“And you deserve it.”
“That, too.” When his hands drove her negligée higher, Cat asked, “Is
that what you want right now, to fuck?”
“No.”
Cat didn’t stop him from pulling the clothing off her body. She lifted her
arms so he could take it off completely, baring her nakedness for her
husband. She wore nothing under the negligée but her skin.
Dante’s hands explored the expanse of her body with a hot, soft touch of
a man who loved her. Around the curves of her breasts, the dip in her waist
and the swell of her hips straddling him. His caress was so gentle, it was
almost like it wasn’t there at all.
Except it was.
She felt it everywhere.
Lust and love burned a path over all the spots he took time to feel. A
pooling want began to thrum in her middle, coursing down to her pussy and
making her wet.
“What are you doing if you don’t want to fuck me, then?” Cat asked.
“I want to love my wife.”
Cat’s air caught in her throat at the same time the lingering tension in
her spine released.
“I don’t want to fuck you, I want to love you,” Dante said.
“Okay, bello.”
He leaned up to meet her, his gaze keeping her pinned in place. The
second kiss of his lips and his tongue seeking hers was as tender as before.
Cat sighed when he tilted her head back, his mouth ghosting over her chin
and down her throat with the sweetest hum building in his chest.
Cat lifted from the chair, letting Dante shed the pants and shirt he wore
before she took her place in his lap again. Dante guided her over his cock
with one hand, keeping her chin in his other, insuring her eyes never left
him.
He took her slowly, letting her sensitive sex feel every inch of him
sliding in. His shaft pulsed inside her clenching pussy, her arousal soaking
his length and her folds as his cock filled her to the hilt.
Dante’s fingers danced along her spine, up to her shoulders as he freed
her hair from the messy chignon. Cat expected him to fist the red strands
like he usually would, to tug and pull and make her beg and shout.
There was none of that.
Dante touched her like she was as fragile as a feather. Like there was no
anger in his soul for the things she had done. Like he loved her.
She was his queen, and Cat let him show her.
Not once as she rode him did his intent turn rough like it usually did in
bed, the way Cat usually liked for her husband to fuck her.
Not when he kissed her as they loved in their unhurried pace, his cock
making her desire lick like flames; not when he groaned her name into her
parted lips, her gasps panting as the coil in her stomach twisted tighter; and
not when he urged her to a quiet finish, the orgasm raging through her
blood more intense than it ever had.
Dante had never been as affectionate and loving as he was when he
kissed away the tears falling from the corners of her eyes. Even though he
was angry, he didn’t show it. Her husband only ever cared for her.
Cat hadn’t realized how much she needed it until he gave it to her.
She took all his body gave her when he came hard with her name in his
mouth. She let him wipe the remaining wetness from her cheeks with the
pads of his thumbs. Cat’s bottom lip caught between her teeth when he
drew her down and kissed her.
“I’m always going to love you.”
“Even when you hate me?” Cat asked in a whisper.
Because sometimes, she knew he would.
“Yeah, even then.”
•••
Groggily, Cat padded down the condo hallway. It wasn’t like her
husband to leave their bed at night.
It didn’t take her long to find Dante. Sprawled across the large couch on
his back, Dante lay sleeping with Michel snoring away on his chest. One
arm rested below the boy’s pajama-clad bottom while his other stayed
protectively wrapped around Michel’s back as if to keep him where he
slept. Michel’s tiny fingers were curled into fists, his cheek pressed flat to
the spot above Dante’s heart.
The sight was so painfully sweet it hurt.
“Talked himself to sleep.”
Cat jolted at Dante’s dark voice. His eyes were still closed like he was
sleeping, but a sensual smile curved his lips, telling the truth.
“Did he?” Cat asked.
“Yes, we had a long discussion mostly consisting of him smacking my
mouth and him drooling while he babbled. His eyeteeth are coming in, I
think. Put those chewy things on the list, would you? I’ll probably forget.
Lucian said something about Tylenol, too.”
“You called your brother?”
Cat was sure Dante had wanted to keep Michel quiet for a little while
longer. At least until they got some news about Johnathan.
“Lucian deserved to know the truth about why his son was taken. I let
him get his anger out in private so we could get back to where we needed to
be. Now, we can work on getting John home.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You owe that to my brother and his wife, and then you can stop saying
it.” Dante’s eyes popped open, landing on Cat. “I also called him because I
knew. Lucian’s not sleeping—he can’t. And when he is most irate, he is also
the most dangerous. I gave him someone to take it out on, even if it was
only verbally. Jordyn is frightened for her son and angry with her husband.
They’re waiting, but not well.”
“Neither are you, I take it.”
“No, but Michel is a good distraction from where my mind keeps trying
to go.”
“We’ll get Johnathan back.”
“I know.” Dante’s hand rubbed back and forth on Michel’s bottom.
“Once Lucian was done yelling at me, he said Tylenol would help Michel
sleep. Apparently Jordyn had put a bottle in John’s bag that we kept here.”
“You could have woken me up.”
“I could have,” Dante agreed.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I needed time to think. It’s hard to do that with you beside me.”
“Oh.”
“Mmhmm. Giovanni called shortly after I hung up with Lucian. Another
Marcello man that doesn’t know how to sleep when bad shit is going
down.”
“What did he have to say?” Cat asked.
“There’s been some talk on the streets,” Dante answered vaguely.
“About what?”
Dante sighed, readjusting Michel so he could encompass the baby’s tiny
hand with his own. “Gio isn’t sure, but a few smaller businesses down by
the shipping district have mentioned newcomers who do and say little when
they’re around, which isn’t often. They’re Italian, but that isn’t uncommon
for that area. What is uncommon, is the fact they’re so unknown. It’s
unsettled a few people, enough for them to mention it, anyway.”
“Could that be Bruno’s men?”
“Maybe. Gio sent a few men down that way to scope some shit out.
Money is working the rounds to get mouths running if someone’s renting
out a place or business for anyone to stay or use on the low.”
“You’re not going to come back to bed, are you?”
“No,” Dante murmured. “I’m not.”
“Would you like me to take Michel?”
“No.”
Cat didn’t know what her husband needed from her and that set her off
balance. “Are you still angry with me?”
Dante smiled. “I want to be, but no.”
“What can I do for you right now?”
“You can go back to sleep and let me think a bit more,” Dante replied
quietly. “And when word does come, because it will, I need you to stay
here, take care of Michel, and let me do what I have to, no arguments.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of you being in the middle
of whatever might go down. I didn’t expect this at all.”
“Expect what?” Cat asked.
“Keeping you safe because I love you. It hadn’t crossed my mind, that’s
all. Even inside my head, you’re this formidable force, an unbeatable
creature. If I keep thinking that way, regardless of whether you are or not,
I’ll have your blood all over my hands.”
“Dante—”
Her husband released a hard breath of air, passing her an intense look
that stopped her words and heart. “If you argue with me about letting you in
on whatever we might do, I will let you win. Please don’t argue with me so
I won’t have to let you win.”
“I won’t.”
Dante brushed the stray hair from Michel’s face, gazing at the boy.
“Another thing …”
God, hadn’t what he said been enough? For Cat, it most certainly was.
“What’s that?”
“I want to be his father.”
Cat stilled in place.
“I want him to love me like I’m his father. I don’t care that he doesn’t
look like me or even that he can’t someday follow my footsteps because
part of his heritage is uncertain. None of that matters to me. I want him to
be my son.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but only if you want it, too. See, if I’m his father that means
you’re his mother. I’m not sure if you’re open to that or not. He deserves
parents, Cat. Ones who will give him everything he needs and should have.
I would like for us to be those people—not just his aunt and uncle.”
Cat didn’t even have to think about it. “I would love that.”
Dante grinned, closing his eyes again. “I hoped so.”
•••
Cat snuggled Michel’s fresh smelling cheek, enjoying the smell of baby
soap and lotion on the boy’s skin. Warm and soft, Michel grinned happily
all snug in Cat’s arms. She was surprised, although maybe she shouldn’t
have been, at how easy her affectionate side came out to play when her
nephew—
The night before flooded her mind.
Michel was not her nephew, not anymore. She could give him those
things he needed, a mother and father included.
“Does Ma know yet?” Cat heard a voice ask. Giovanni.
“No, just Dad,” Dante replied. “And he’s still got her out of state so she
won’t find out.”
“Better she doesn’t,” Lucian added.
Cat’s heart plummeted as she eavesdropped on the brothers’
conversation. To her, it sounded like they were talking about poor Michel.
She hadn’t slept well at all the night before and when the brothers showed
up bright and early banging on the condo door, Cat made herself scarce
with Michel before Dante let them in.
At least her husband’s next words soothed her worry that they weren’t
talking about Cecelia disapproving of Michel.
Dante sighed, saying, “The last time bad shit went down, Antony had to
get Paulie to sedate her just to keep her from going into a panic attack. No
need to worry her about Johnathan until we have good news for her.”
“I agree,” Lucian said. “Let’s get on with it.”
“Word traveled from the streets about the same time they left their little
message,” Giovanni said as Cat stepped into the office doorway. No one
noticed her presence, so she stayed quiet.
“Good, so we were right then?” Dante asked.
“Warehouse in the shipping district,” Giovanni confirmed with a nod.
“Pretty big place, so there’s that.”
Lucian’s hands smacked down hard to Dante’s desk. “This is my son
we’re talking about. Can we please not act like we’re serving a fucking
dinner here?”
Dante flinched. “Lucian—”
“No, shut the fuck up. I don’t care about whatever goddamn problem
you’ve got with this. I don’t. My wife won’t even speak to me right now
because of this. She blames me, Dante, and she doesn’t even realize the shit
going on inside my head. Jordyn looks at me like she hates me and it’s
killing me. And you know what, fuck you for thinking it would be okay to
sit around and take the time to consider whatever it is you’re considering.
This is my son, not any other kid. Mine.”
“My wife,” Dante murmured. “I’m considering my wife.”
Cat’s spine straightened at her husband’s omission.
“She fucking caused this!” Lucian roared.
Michel started in Cat’s arms at the sudden change in noise level. Before
she could stop him from crying, or even hide from view of the office,
Michel wailed. Fat tears slid down his cheeks as Cat bounced him in her
embrace and patted his back, shushing into his ear soothingly.
When he calmed, sniffling away his cries, Cat turned back to the
brothers. All eyes had turned to her in the doorway.
The defensive stances Giovanni and Lucian sported eased at the sight of
Michel.
“Good morning,” Cat greeted.
“Morning, Catrina,” Giovanni replied.
Lucian didn’t say a thing.
“I’m sorry for all the worry my choices have caused you, Lucian,” Cat
said, wanting him to know. “I never thought Bruno would go so far as to
take another man’s child, and that was my mistake. I misjudged his cruelty
and there is no excuse or apology worthy of your pain.”
“You’re right, there isn’t,” Lucian stated coldly. “I would appreciate it if
you didn’t try at all. I don’t want your apologies, I want my son. As does
my wife.”
Cat flinched on the inside, but she knew she deserved every bit of his
anger and resentment.
“He’s fed, bathed and ready for you,” Cat said quietly, meeting Dante’s
gaze.
“So this is him?” Lucian asked.
Dante waved at Michel who was twisting around to find his father’s
voice. “This is him. Michel.”
“Marcello,” Giovanni said for his brother when Dante didn’t tack on
Michel’s surname.
“Well, unofficially,” Cat said.
“At least until I get his documentation,” Dante put in. “Then he’s mine
through and through. Ours, I mean.”
“He’s a handsome thing,” Giovanni said, grinning. “Nobody’s ever
gonna believe he came from you, man. Not with looks like those.”
Dante laughed. “Fuck off, you asshole.”
“Little ears,” Cat warned.
“Sorry, bella.”
Lucian cleared his throat, still eyeing Michel. “He does look like
Catrina, though, except for those brown eyes. Even his hair is a little red in
the light.”
“A little,” Dante agreed.
“That’ll help your story of him being hers, anyway.”
“That’s the plan.” Dante smiled though it faded fast. “Dolcezza, could
you give us a few minutes?”
“She should know, Dante,” Giovanni insisted.
Dante flicked his younger brother with a look. “Shut up.”
“But—”
“Shut up,” Dante repeated, firmer the second time. He turned back to
Cat. “Please give us a few minutes alone to chat.”
“Know what?” Cat asked.
“Bruno is in the city, too,” Giovanni blurted out, refusing to look at
Dante.
“I don’t know how Dad never killed you for disobeying every fucking
thing he ever told you, Gio,” Dante growled.
“You’re late to the game, cafone. Get used to it,” Giovanni snapped.
“I’m not changing and a new boss isn’t going to make a difference.”
Cat ignored their exchange. “I’m not surprised Bruno is in the city.”
Lucian was the only one who noticed Cat’s comment. “Why is that?”
“Because Marc couldn’t wipe his own ass without Bruno’s permission. I
couldn’t imagine him coming to America and Bruno not following behind.”
“Why didn’t you mention this to me last night?” Dante asked.
Cat shrugged, letting Michel nibble on the tips of her fingers. “Maybe I
assumed you would already know that, Dante. Do you send your very best
men off without you?”
“Point taken.”
“Yes, well, how did you find out Bruno is in the city?”
Dante’s stare cut to Giovanni quickly. “Keep that mouth of yours shut.”
“She deserves to know,” Giovanni said again.
Cat wasn’t in the mood to dance around stubborn men, so she turned to
Lucian instead. He was angry with her, but if he had information for Cat
that might help bring Johnathan home, he would tell her.
“Know what, Lucian?”
“Lucian—” Dante didn’t even get to finish his sentence.
“One of Gio’s men was killed last night near the area we believe the
men who took John are hiding out. When his body was found by his partner
who had been chatting with a few people in the district, there was a note in
his pocket.”
Cat didn’t blink at the terrible story. Men died. It was an unfortunate
part of their business. “What did it say?”
“It said if the Marcellos wanted their principe back, their queen needed
to be the one who came for him.”
“And we know which warehouse they’re in?” Cat asked quietly.
“Yes, now,” Dante said, his jaw clenching tight. “Essentially, they hid in
plain sight, but it worked until they didn’t need it to anymore.”
Cat faced her husband with a steeling resolve. His words the night
before flooded her thoughts and heart, but she didn’t have a choice. No
doubt, Dante knew it, too.
Please don’t argue with me so I won’t have to let you win.
Her blood, his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Cat told her husband, seeing the pain flickering in his eyes.
“Don’t argue with me, Cat. Not on this.”
Too late.
•••
“He’s terribly angry with me.”
It hurt when Dante was angry with her.
“He’ll get over it,” Giovanni replied.
Cat didn’t think so.
“Kim didn’t mind watching Michel?” Cat asked, needing to get her
mind off Dante for a moment.
“Of course, not. She loves kids, you know.”
Gio didn’t take his eyes off the laptop he was working on. She didn’t
have the first clue what he was doing, but she knew it had something to do
with security cameras, wireless transmitting, and hacking. Beyond that, Cat
didn’t understand his earlier babbling when he explained what he was going
to try to do.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Giovanni muttered.
Cat’s heart found her throat. “What?”
“Nothing, just hit the wrong security set up, that’s all. Next one, I
hope.”
Cat checked her watch, noting it was almost eleven in the morning.
Twisting in the passenger seat, Cat surveyed the warehouse buildings in the
thick of the shipping district. Each held a different security system keeping
it safe and most were run off wireless wavelengths, so it wasn’t a surprise
others would jam up Giovanni’s program until he hit the correct one.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Cat asked.
“Dante is—”
“No, Johnathan.”
“Oh.” Giovanni’s typing stopped for a brief second before it resumed.
“He better be.”
Cat cringed. “Lucian would kill me if not.”
Giovanni hummed noncommittally. “He’s in panic mode. John is fine.
These people aren’t stupid enough to hurt him, and if they are, I sincerely
hope one of our bullets takes them out before Lucian gets a hold of them.
“If John’s fine, which I believe he is, then I still hope the fucking idiots
die before Lucian catches them. Because that man is serial killer material
when he wants to be. He seems calm on the outside, and he’s sweet with his
wife and his mother, but privately inside his head, he can be a little scary.”
A shiver wracked her shoulders. “Thank you for making my worry
worse.”
“Lucian might be angry with you right now, but he would never hurt
you, no matter what the outcome of this shitty day is.”
“Funny, I don’t believe you.”
Giovanni gazed up from the laptop, leveling Cat with a single look.
“You should. Dante loves you and he considers you the mother to a child he
wants the rest of the world to see as his son. You’re family—a Marcello.
Nothing is more important to us than family. Lucian would never hurt you.
Stop fretting. Pretty soon this will all be over.”
Cat chewed on the inside of her cheek, unaccustomed to feeling as
nervous as she did. “Grazie.”
“You’re welcome.”
A few more minutes passed in silence before Cat asked, “What exactly
is the plan after I approach the front of the warehouse?”
“Someone needs to run this and keep an eye on everything while
maintaining communication with Lucian and Dante. Not to mention, if
there are cameras outside, there are cameras inside. I might be able to locate
John in the warehouse. While I hate to be the sorry fucker left out of all the
fun, I’m the only one of us three brothers who knows anything about this
kind of shit, so that’s my job.”
“What about Lucian and Dante?”
“A guy scouted the building before we got here from the roof of another
for entrances and exits. There’s a main one in the front, two loading docks
in the back, and an exit door on the side. You’re going to the front, Dante is
going to the side, and Lucian is going in through the back.”
“That doesn’t tell me a lot about the plan, Gio.”
“Because we don’t have one.”
“Perfetto,” Cat hissed. “Sounds brilliant and completely infallible.”
“It’s like this,” Giovanni replied, never taking his eyes off the laptop,
“… we don’t know what’s inside, how many, or if John is even in there.
When I have more info, we work from there. If we can get it done just the
four of us, even better. Sorry if it doesn’t work for you, but that’s how this
is going to go.”
Then, his features brightened. “I think I got it … shit, yeah, I got it.”
Cat leaned over the seat as the screen popped up with several different
camera sights and angles. Giovanni clicked on one in particular, zooming in
as close as he could get before the screen began to blur with pixilation. A
white car looked like it was inside the building, too, but Cat didn’t
understand how it would have gotten there.
“Black hair, six foot tall, tattoo that shows on the back of his neck above
the neckline, and built like a brick house?”
“Bruno.”
“Yeah, well, he just put a black duffle bag into the back of that car, so
he’s getting ready to leave or do something.”
Giovanni turned his cellphone on and hit a button. In the next car, Cat
watched as Lucian put a small earpiece into his ear, nodding when Giovanni
said, “Show time; connect Dante to the call, too.”
Reaching over, Giovanni opened the glove compartment, pulled out a
pair of large framed women’s sunglasses and handed them to Cat. Her
confused expression must have caught his attention.
“They’re my wife’s but with an added addition.”
Cat twisted the black glasses around in her hands, not seeing anything
out of the ordinary. “Like what?”
“Here.” Giovanni twisted the glasses around and pointed to the inner
piece that would rest just behind Cat’s ear. There, he pointed to a small
black circle that looked built into the glasses. “GPS. Kim was nice enough
to let me steal her favorite sunglasses for the day, so thank her.”
Cat was aghast. “You track your wife?”
“Not like you think, but if someone took her, she always keeps these on
her, and she’s aware there’s a chip in them. Just wear them.”
Cat put the glasses on, pushing them high on the crown of her head.
“Why would I need these, anyway?”
Giovanni shrugged. “Just a precaution. Ready to draw him out?”
“Sì.”
“I’ll see you in a few, then.”
Cat got out of the car and was met by her husband. The scowl Dante
sported spoke entirely of his anxiety and pain. “You know the rules,
Amore.”
“Don’t go inside the building. If I get the chance, take him out, but only
if it’s going to be clean.”
“And don’t make any stupid moves or let him lead you away,” Dante
added, arching a brow.
“Yeah, I got it, bello.”
“We’re a couple of buildings over, so it’s a little walk.” Dante shot a
glance down at Cat’s boots. “Cristo, woman. Heels, really?”
“Anything else isn’t my style,” Cat said, grinning.
Dante’s severe expression melted away. “I love you, huh?”
“I know. I love you, too.”
“Don’t be stupid, Cat.”
“I didn’t get this far in my life by acting like a fool, Dante.”
“That’s the only thing helping me to breathe right now.”
“Do you want to wish me luck?” Cat asked.
“No.” Dante stepped forward and grabbed Cat’s face in both of his
hands, kissing her so fiercely it almost hurt. He pulled away, reluctance
filling his gaze. “No luck, you don’t need it.”
Bulletproof, Cat thought. He would always see her like that, even if she
wasn’t.
“Don’t be stupid,” her husband said one last time before letting her hand
go.
Cat couldn’t look back at Dante as she walked away. She had to fix
what she broke—her family.
It was a good ten minute walk through the empty streets to get to the
warehouse in question. On a weekend, little work was done around here,
apparently.
Cat recognized the sign on the front of a drab, gray warehouse that she
had been told to look for. Besides the front access with a window darkened
by paint, there was also a small, metal garage door. There was a security
camera nearly hidden in the eave of the entrance. She didn’t have to wait
long. The groaning shudder of metal lifting signaled the garage door
opening.
A white car drove out as soon as the door was high enough for it to slip
under. With windows tinted a dark black, Cat couldn’t make out who sat
behind the wheel, but she knew.
When the car came to a stop only a foot from her form, Cat stared headon into the windshield. The driver’s side window rolled down three inches.
“Money buys a lot of things, Catrina,” she heard a familiar voice say.
Bruno.
“It does,” Cat said.
“Mmhmm, like bulletproof glass and a hideout. Best way I’ve spent my
money in a long time. Take the coat off.”
Cat hesitated. There was a small revolver in the inside pocket of her
jacket, meant to be a backup. Still, she had to wonder if little Johnathan was
in the car, too. It was a possibility.
“Take it off,” Bruno repeated.
The coat fell to the ground in a second.
“Beautiful, Catrina. As always, you dress to impress your prey. At your
thigh, toss the knife.”
Cat’s jaw tensed, her only show of irritation. Of course, he would know
about her knife. It was, usually, the only weapon she kept on her and had
been for years. She always had two or three as a replacement. Cat reached
up the skirt of her dress and pulled the knife from the sheath at her inner
thigh. It clanked on the pavement as it dropped.
“And the boots, they can go, too.”
“There’s nothing in my boots,” Cat said.
“Yes, well, I don’t trust you. Whores like you have a way of lying about
everything. Off with them if you want your principe back.”
“What about your principe?”
“Off with the goddamn boots, Catrina.”
She kicked her ankle-high, suede heels to the ground, losing a good four
inches in height in the process. Now, Bruno would be able to look down on
her if he stood in front of her. It unsettled her to think he might be above her
in any way.
“In the car, now.”
Again, Cat wavered. She hadn’t heard a single cry come from inside the
vehicle. Nothing to suggest her nephew was inside. Beyond that, she hadn’t
caught a glimpse of her husband or Lucian since she left their cars behind.
She certainly couldn’t see around the fucking building given her position.
Don’t let him lead you away.
Don’t be stupid.
In the back of her mind, Johnathan came to the forefront like the bang
of a gun. He could be in the car. Perhaps sleeping, which would be the best
choice.
“Here’s the thing,” Bruno muttered, bringing Cat from her thoughts.
“You’ve got five seconds to get your pretty ass inside this car, Catrina
Danzi.”
“Marcello. My name is Catrina Marcello.”
“Get in the car.”
“No,” Cat said, refusing to let him win.
“Do it, or I’ll blow that building straight to hell.”
Cat’s heart stopped. “What?”
“You know me, Catrina. I don’t let things go to the wayside. I’ve got a
backup, like always. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that someone is
attempting to get into that building. You’re just the fucking bait. And if you
don’t get inside this car and take me to my son, I’ll blow your nephew and
whoever else is trying to reach that kid into nothing but ash and bits. Get
in.”
Cat did.
Cruel, cold eyes surveyed her when she closed the door. Warmth blew
from the heater, warming her frozen feet, but Cat didn’t care. She was far
too focused on Bruno and the wickedly evil sneer he sported.
“Let’s go for a little drive, cagna.”
Cat didn’t speak as the car pulled away from the warehouse. She kept
one eye on Bruno, noticing the gun and cellphone he held in one hand while
he steered with the other. For a good two minutes, he drove in silence. Cat
wasn’t sure where they were going as he weaved in and out of backstreets
she didn’t recognize.
When Bruno did finally speak, a nauseated sensation flooded Cat. “Play
good, or I’ll hit the call button. If I do that, the building behind us is going
to go bang in a big way.”
“What about your men inside?”
Bruno shrugged. “They matter little to me and they have no idea of my
true plans. I’ve waited a long time to speak with you, Catrina.”
“I suspected.”
“Sì, and you should know, I’m going to enjoy this.”
“I’m not going to give you Michel,” Cat said, hoping to distract him in
some way. The further from her husband they drove, the worse her dread
became.
“I don’t care.”
Cat stiffened in the seat. “Excuse me?”
“That bastard of Catherine’s, I don’t care if I ever see him again. Born
with brown eyes and blond hair, like I wouldn’t fucking know. Cristo, that
goddamn thing isn’t mine.”
“But you celebrated—”
“Others did, I simply went along with it.” Bruno took a deep breath,
gaze narrowing. “She was going to leave, you know.”
“What?”
“Catherine.” Bruno’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. “I just knew
it. The next time you came, she was going to leave with you. I couldn’t let
her.”
“She was my sister and you hurt her. I couldn’t let you keep hurting
her.”
“I loved her!”
Cat inched slightly away from the anger flying from the man beside her.
Love came in many forms, and sometimes, one of those forms was the
terrible misdeed of abuse. Most times, because the abuser didn’t know any
other way. The abused, however, was the one who learned no other way.
“You hurt her, Bruno,” Cat repeated. “You’re an awful, disgusting piece
of shit and—”
His hand left the steering wheel in a flash, cracking Cat in the face. She
was knocked against the passenger window with a thud, failing to catch her
balance. The movement of the car jerking to the side before rolling to a stop
was the only thing Cat felt before Bruno was on her. The gun in his hand
waved in front of her face, the cellphone lost somewhere on the floor. When
Bruno’s foot stomped down to the floor as if he were bracing himself,
something crunched and he cussed.
She sincerely hoped that was the fucking phone. Cat shook her head
from side to side in order to keep the barrel of the gun away from her head.
All she needed to do was stay alive.
Bruno’s rage made his hands shake, unable to hold the weapon steady.
Cat used his weakness to her advantage, knocking the gun out of his
hand with her palm and sending it flying into the backseat somewhere.
Bruno laughed darkly above her, slapping Cat hard before both of his hands
were at her throat. He squeezed just enough to take her oxygen away.
“It doesn’t matter,” Bruno murmured, a hint of a smile playing at his
mouth. He squeezed harder and Cat dug her nails into his forearms, drawing
blood. God, she couldn’t breathe. “I also had the bomb set up to a wireless
timer through a WiFi internet clock. It’s going to blow regardless if I made
the call or not. It started counting down the moment the garage door lifted.”
“N-no.”
“Oh, yes. How many came for the boy, Catrina? Two, five, maybe?
More? Dio, I hope so. I bet the boy’s father and his uncles came. One of
them is your husband, too. Bye, bye Marcellos.”
Cat trembled under his weight on her chest and the words coming from
his mouth. Faintly, Cat was sure she could hear the muffled sound of a child
crying, but blood rushed in her ears. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on
her.
“You made me hit her, Catrina. It was you who did that by putting
nonsense in her head. Your heart for mine.”
This man was crazy.
“Boom,” Bruno whispered.
Chapter Eighteen
Dante popped the truck on the stolen car, pulling two items out of the
back. He handed one of the Kevlar vests to Lucian. Better to be safe than
sorry. It was one thing to go in on something when you knew what was
waiting behind the walls, it was an entirely different thing to go in on
something when you didn’t have a fucking clue.
Lucian pulled off his jacket and yanked the vest over his head. Dante
did the same. Reaching back into the truck, he brought out two weapons
Lucian had brought along. Neither Gio nor Dante kept any real stash of
weapons on them but for a few handguns they favored. They didn’t need to
with Lucian’s overly extensive collection at hand.
The Uzis were a rapid fire assault weapon that could and would do a
fucking hell of a lot of damage in a very short amount of time. It was also
practically uncontrollable in the wrong hands. The Uzis weren’t in the
wrong hands today. Along with the clip for the Uzi, Dante had his magnum
at his back, too.
“You okay?” Dante asked his quiet brother.
Lucian wouldn’t meet Dante’s eyes, but his jaw was taut and his hands
were steady, gripping the Uzi so tight his knuckles were white. “No.”
Honesty was the best policy, Dante supposed. Beyond that, it was good
indication of what kind of headspace his older brother was in.
“Cazzo merda.” Gio’s curse filtered in from the Bluetooth in Dante’s
ear.
“What is it?” Lucian asked.
Gio didn’t answer, instead getting out of his car with the laptop in hand.
He set the computer to the top of the car, turning it around so the brothers
could see the screen. Four camera views had been separated and enlarged
from the rest. All were for the inside of the building.
“What do you see?” Gio asked.
Dante did a quick survey of the vantage points. “Three men, guns, and a
lot of boxes, crates, and shit. What are those barrels?”
“Exactly,” Gio snapped.
“John’s not on view,” Lucian said low. “We don’t even know if he’s in
there. This could be a trap.”
Gio pointed his finger at the barrels, making colors bloom on the screen.
“No, behind those barrels. See?”
Dante could. What looked like a door was covered by metal barrels
piled high. “What would that be, an office?”
“I think so,” Gio stated.
“And there’s no camera for that room?” Lucian asked.
“No.”
“Damn,” Dante grunted, rubbing at his temples. He glanced at Lucian,
deciding to let his brother make the final call since it was his son. “What do
you want to do?”
“I want to know if my son is behind that door,” Lucian muttered.
Dante nodded. “Okay. Gio, has Cat made it to the front, yet?”
Gio turned the laptop around and clicked a couple of keys. “She’s just
coming into view. You two need to hurry.”
“Keep an eye on my wife,” Dante warned.
Catrina never did know how to follow his rules very damn well.
Gio cocked a brow. “Give her some fucking credit. There’s one camera
along the back where Lucian is heading. I’ve got control of it and I’ll black
it out, but I can only do that for a short while before it looks suspicious on
whoever is watching theirs. Get going. Be smart.”
Lucian and Dante left without another word. At the second warehouse,
the two split up. It didn’t take Dante long to skip over through a second
alleyway and find the warehouse in question. He made his way down the
narrow walls until he came to the exit door.
“Wood framing all the way around the door,” Dante noted.
“Can you shoot the lock out without ricochet?” Gio asked.
“Yeah,” Dante confirmed.
“Shit,” Lucian hissed.
Dante didn’t like the sound of that. “What’s wrong?”
“Mine is metal framing.” Lucian cursed again, angrier the second time.
“You’re going to have to let me in, Dante. We can’t afford to waste time by
me coming around.”
“One of the guys are walking toward the back,” Gio noted. “He’s the
one on the cameras, I suspect. I’ve had the back one blacked out for an
entire minute, and I can see through the coding he was trying to fix it, but
my control on the program overrides his. We need to move, now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dante said, trying to think. “Can you see my door?”
“From the side of another view. There’s a few crates around it, why?”
“That’s all I needed to know.” Dante just needed some form of
protection when he blew the door open.
“Just something for you to take note of before you go in,” Gio added
quietly.
Dante aimed the Uzi at the wood casing around the door. “What?”
“I could only see three before, but there’s at least five. They’re waiting
with assault fire like ours, they know. A car has left the front and Catrina is
standing in front of it.”
Dante hesitated. “She’s not getting in the car, right?”
“No.”
“Then she’s doing what we needed, drawing him out.”
“What if John is in the car?” Lucian asked.
“He wants Michel, right?” Dante asked back. “And five men inside
makes me think there’s something he doesn’t want us getting, so …”
“Blow it open,” Lucian said.
The Uzi’s trigger pulled back smooth under Dante’s finger. Bullets
plowed into the wood casing around the latch, ripping the framing keeping
the lock in place apart.
“They’re moving like rats inside,” Gio said. “Guns are out.”
“And we’re in,” Dante told his brothers as the door popped open.
“Two are coming straight at you but there’s a crate in the way.”
“Got it.” Dante pried on the door, opening the heavy metal the rest of
the way with his Uzi still aimed in front of him. The moment he stepped
into the warehouse, bullets tore into the crate Gio mentioned. And not
Dante’s fucking bullets. His knees hit cement, lowering to keep his target
from being obvious as packing peanuts spilled to the floor. “Shit.”
“You good?”
“Perfect,” Dante answered Gio.
“Hurry up,” Lucian growled. “Some fucking idiot is shooting at my
door, and I’m not even inside.”
“Yeah, coming, man.”
The noise inside the warehouse was volcanic. Gunfire toward the back,
somewhere in front of him, and shouts near the entrance of the building.
The situation would confuse a frightened man, but Dante wasn’t easily
scared. He was already off his knees and moving to the side, shielded by
another crate. Above the sounds, Dante could hear the familiar cry of his
nephew, but he couldn’t place the direction from where it came. It sounded
like it was coming from everywhere all at once.
As Dante slid around the other side of the crate, shards of wood blew
past his face from the crate the fools were still shooting into. “I can hear
John, but I—”
Lucian’s relief was instant in the speakers. “I want my son.”
“Yeah, yeah, hurry,” Dante practically snarled. “I’m trying not to get
shot here.”
“A couple in the chest isn’t going to hurt you,” Gio barked.
Actually, even with the Kevlar vest on, it would. It might not kill him,
but it would hurt like a motherfucker.
When Dante came to the front of the crate, he looked around the side
quickly, noted the two men who couldn’t see him, shoved his Uzi out, and
tucked his head back in. His heartbeat was like a drum in his ears pulled the
trigger back on the Uzi one more time, using both hands to steady the
jerking of the gun as bullets soared out rapidly.
Fuck, he should have brought ear plugs.
The moment Dante heard two distinct shouts of surprise and pain, he cut
across the aisle without checking back on the fools who had been shooting
at him. More crates and piles of boxes made him unsure of his position.
“Gio, where am I going?”
“You’re on the right path, just keep moving forward from your current
spot,” his younger brother said. “Problem is, the two from the front are
working their way down and the one by Lucian’s door is turning around,
too.”
Then, Gio swore loudly, keys clacking on the other end of the line.
“What the fuck did she do?”
Dante’s heart stopped as he slammed his back into a wall of boxes. The
heat in the warehouse seemed to jump up to an unbearable level. There was
only one she Gio could be talking about … Catrina.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Gio’s frustration turned louder in Dante’s ears.
Johnathan’s quiet crying continued to echo through the space.
“Should I ask?” Dante asked. “Or should I just keep going?”
Gio made an awful sound that tore through Dante’s chest. “I had the
most important cameras up and zoomed in. I’m sorry, I just checked the
front feed and she’s gone. So is the car.”
Oh, God no.
“I—”
“Let me in!” Lucian roared.
Gunfire sounded a blink before bullets ripped through the boxes beside
Dante. “Fucking Christ!”
“Move!” Gio yelled.
Dante squeezed his eyes shut, decided to trust that his wife knew what
she was doing even if listening to him might save her goddamn life, and
started moving again. Panic saturated his insides as he weaved through the
throng of storage and crates. Repeatedly, he checked over his shoulder for
the two Gio mentioned, but not once did he see them.
Turning a corner in the makeshift aisles of crap, Dante could see the red
flickers of light that signaled the loading docks and back exit where Lucian
was waiting.
“Gun from the back turning the corner ten feet ahead and to your left in
less than five,” Gio warned. “The other two are still fucking around looking
down aisles thirty feet or so back. You’ve got a bit before they catch up
with the way they’re going on.”
“Thanks.”
Dante lowered his Uzi and pulled the magnum from the holster at his
back. No need to waste bullets. Flicking the safety off before he cocked the
hammer back, Dante walked forward and raised the magnum. The moment
the idiot popped around the corner, Dante’s gun met his head.
The bullet lodged into the man’s temple, killing him instantly. Blood
sprayed as the corpse went flying into another wall of boxes. More packing
peanuts spilled when the boxes fell. An assault weapon the man held
clattered to the cement floor. Dante picked it up and slung the weapon over
his shoulder by the strap. No need to give those fuckers any more ammo
than they already had.
Shouts rang out from somewhere behind Dante. Angry, Italian shouts.
“Yeah, now they’re coming,” Gio said. “You’re definitely clear for
Lucian, though, just keep a watch on your back.”
Dante jogged through the maze of crates and boxes. “Got it.”
“And—” Gio’s words cut off briefly before he muttered, “What is this
shit?”
“Gio, what’s up?” Dante asked as he finally came to the back exit. His
foot landed to the bar across the exit, knocking it off and allowing the door
to be opened.
Lucian slipped in wordlessly. His head snapped up, his gaze sweeping
the ceiling at the sound of Johnathan’s faint cries still reverberating above
and around them.
“Gio?” Dante asked.
“I gotta shut the cameras off,” Gio said quietly.
“What, why?” Lucian demanded.
Dante felt just as confused. Gio’s skills with computers and hacking had
gone a long way for them today and beyond that, they still had two fuckers
coming at them and fast.
“I already shut them off, so you’re on your own,” Gio explained. “The
coding program—”
“We’re not the ones who understand that shit,” Lucian interrupted
sharply.
“My router is trying to bounce onto another hotspot, one so close it
would have to be inside the building, too. All I can tell from the codes is
that something is counting down, man. In order for me to figure out what it
is, I need to get out of this hotspot, and jump into that one.”
“Counting down,” Dante echoed, giving Lucian a look. “Holy fu—”
Lucian tackled Dante from the side, knocking them both to the floor.
Dante’s shoulder bloomed in agony as his head cracked into cement. The
whistling sound of bullets screamed in every direction. Both brothers
scrambled for purchase against the slick cement under they finally found
traction. As fast as lightning, they disappeared back into the maze of crates
and boxes. A tipped over shipping crate became their shield, but Dante
knew it would do little for them.
A burning sting ached in Dante’s jaw, wetness dripped down to his hand
as he touched the spot. Hissing, he pulled his hand away to see blood
covering his fingertips.
“Ah, fuck,” Dante breathed, patting his jaw again to guess how long the
bullet graze was. At least three inches.
“Shit.” Lucian grabbed his brother’s face, tipping Dante’s head up. “It’s
just a flesh wound, nothing serious.”
“It’s bleeding pretty fucking badly for it to be just a flesh wound.”
“Because it’s on your face,” Lucian replied completely unbothered and
letting Dante go. “Now shut up and let me listen.”
Lucian turned away, popping up over the crate to look around. When he
did, Dante flinched. Two bullets were lodged deep into the back of the
Kevlar vest Lucian wore. That had to be hurting.
“Ouch, man.”
“It’s nothing.” Lucian sat back down with a thump, but his heavy
exhales said those bullets likely took his breath away.
“Right.”
“Something’s wrong,” Lucian said, taking in a deep breath.
“I agree,” Gio replied, reminding his two brothers he was still there.
“You first?” Lucian asked.
“It’s a countdown,” Gio said simply.
Dante gritted his teeth. “You already told us it was some kind of clock.”
“Yeah, and it’s got almost two and a half minutes left on the clock.
Whatever this is must be inside that building, there’s tight security around
the coding so that if I even try to touch it, the clock with automatically turn
to zero, and …”
“And what?” Dane forced himself to ask.
“I think it’s a bomb,” Gio said. “You guys need to get out of there now.”
“But, John—”
Lucian grabbed Dante’s shirt, shutting him up. “Those cries are a
recorded track. It’s on a twenty second loop and it’s being played through
several speakers to confuse and bother me. The third time around, I started
to pay attention. My son is not in this building.”
Where the fuck was he, then?
Dante blinked, finally understanding. “But we are.”
“Just got back into the camera WiFi,” Gio said. “Oh, look at that.
They’re going to make it easy on you.”
“What?” Lucian asked.
“Get down low, roll out, point, and shoot. Easy.” Gio chuckled. “Then
run as fast as you fucking can to the front of the building.”
Dante’s brow furrowed. “Why the front?”
“I still think there’s a reason why they made that office look like it was
blocked in. Like maybe because someone wanted you right in that area
when it went boom. Plus, the front entrance won’t block you in with the
blast like the others will. Quit fucking dancing around and let’s move.
You’re probably around a minute and fifty or less, now.”
Lucian gave Dante a nod and slid down to his back; Dante did the same.
“Find my wife, Gio. If she got in the car, maybe there was a good reason.”
“On it.”
Lucian reached out with a clenched fist. Dante bumped it with his own.
“Two more things,” Gio said.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to disconnect so I can call the guy we have scouting. Maybe
he followed the car with Catrina.”
“And?” Lucian asked.
“Yeah, stay alive because I love you, and I don’t want to have to deal
with Ma alone for the rest of my life. That kind of shit.”
Dante muffled his laughter into his palm. Typical fucking Gio right
there. “You, too, asshole.”
The phone clicked off.
“On three,” Dante told Lucian.
Holding his hand up, Dante flicked up his fingers one at a time. At
three, the brothers rolled away from one another and out of their hiding spot
behind the fallen crate. Uzi fire lit up the space in front of Dante’s face,
slicing through the air in quick succession. Then, his gun emptied its clip
and as soon as it did, he could see the fucking fool poking his head around a
crate to check on Dante’s whereabouts and weapon.
Immediately, Dante reached behind him to grab the gun he’d taken off
the guy from the back, but it wasn’t there. It must have fallen from his
shoulder when Lucian tackled him. Dante swore he could feel his heart in
his throat when he couldn’t find his magnum in the holster, either.
“Go!” Lucian shouted.
Dante did as his brother said, making it to his feet just as the man came
out from behind the crate with a rifle pointed straight at him. Uzi fire from
Lucian answered the asshole, the bullets pelting the guy’s front, jerking him
into the crate before he slammed to the floor. Dante didn’t waste time
looking for the last man. He just ran for the front of the building, hoping to
hell Lucian wasn’t far behind him.
The mess of crates and boxes wasn’t nearly as bad on the other side of
the warehouse. It was a heck of a lot easier to make his way through and it
didn’t feel like such a maze. Dante reached the open space where the car
must have been parked in no time at all. In the back of his mind, he was still
counting down. Maybe what, thirty seconds?
The sight of the heavy bars barricading the front entrance closed sent
rage swelling in Dante. A hand landed to his shoulder, making him shout.
“Jesus, Lucian!”
“Look,” Lucian said, nodding up at the top of the metal garage door.
Dante followed his direction, noticing the door was lifted and closed by a
mechanical motor. There was no button anywhere in sight, though. “We can
pry it up, but it’s going to be hard.”
“You got that last guy right?” Dante asked. Lucian nodded. “All right,
let’s open this fucker and get the hell out of here.”
Lucian tossed his Uzi to the side, bending down with Dante to pry at the
bottom of the metal door. Lifting the sheets of connected metal was
anything but easy. Every muscle in Dante’s body protested at the weight
bearing down from the door. When the door was up to Dante’s waste, he
nodded for his brother to go under first. With Lucian on the other side,
holding the bottom of the door again, Dante quickly slipped out, too.
The metal smashed down to the cement with a bang as soon as they let
it go.
Standing straight, Dante took notice of two things immediately. His
wife’s coat, shoes, and the new knife was all tossed in a pile on the ground.
Second, a familiar black car was parked, engine running and the back door
open only feet away from the front of the warehouse. Lucian laughed at the
sight of Gio’s car, but it was strained. Dante could hear it and it shredded
his heart to pieces.
They still didn’t have John.
And God, where was Catrina?
“Come on!” Gio shouted from inside the car.
Dante and Lucian didn’t need to be told again. They jumped into the
back of Gio’s car, landing one on top of the other. Gio pushed the gas pedal
to the floor, forcing the backdoor to close and sending Lucian’s elbow
jabbing with damning force into Dante’s rib. He kicked his brother off of
him.
“Ow, you asshole!”
Lucian didn’t say a thing as he pushed himself up in the seat. “Where is
my son?”
“I think I know,” Gio said. “Maybe … Cristo, I hope so, anyway.”
Gio didn’t sound like he was excited about his idea of Johnathan’s
whereabouts, so that only worried Dante more.
“Wh—”
Lucian didn’t get to finish his question. The impact of the bomb going
off behind them was like a wave of pressure hitting the back of their car.
The volcanic-like sound from before had nothing on this blast. Both Lucian
and Dante ducked down instinctively, though they were too far away to get
any hit from the bomb, now.
“Holy shit,” Gio hissed, the car jerking to the side as he took a sharp
right turn. “Well, that makes cleanup on our end easy.”
“Where are we going?” Dante asked.
“To get your wife and John.”
“He was in the car?” Lucian asked, his voice turning deadly.
Dante could see Gio’s cringe as their younger brother said, “Uh …”
Lucian slammed his hand into the back of Gio’s shoulder. “What? Tell
me!”
“When I first got the feed up, I watched who she said was Bruno put a
large duffel bag into the trunk.”
“A duffel bag?”
“That’s what I saw, nothing else,” Gio said quickly.
Lucian’s eyes turned practically black with his fury. Dante sunk into the
seat, the anxiety beating hard in his chest again. He refused to show his fear,
but it was hard to ignore it completely.
Gio glanced into the rear-view mirror. “We’re not far from the GPS
location for Catrina. It only went maybe three or four blocks before it
stopped.”
Dante stayed silent as the car weaved through back streets, warehouses
flying by. Gio seemed to know where he was going without even looking at
the map sporting a single red dot on his laptop in the passenger seat. Dante
wasn’t surprised Gio knew the area. The shipping district has always been a
specialty of his and Lucian’s.
Gio slammed on the breaks and put the car in park, sending Lucian and
Dante jerking forward. Dante didn’t need to ask why his brother had
stopped so suddenly. A white car had half-parked in a narrow alleyway
between two buildings. Something was happening inside the vehicle,
because it shuddered with movement.
Dante was pushing out of Gio’s car before either of his brothers. Lucian
was right on his heels. He reached for his gun as he approached the car, but
again, realized he had lost it. Dante didn’t give a shit if he had a gun or not.
Certainly not when he saw a man he didn’t recognize choking the very
life out of his wife in the front seat. Dante moved fast around the vehicle,
rage simmering hot in his blood. His wife was one hell of a fighter because
the man’s—Bruno’s—face was torn to shreds with scratches and claw
marks.
Dante yanked open the passenger’s side door at the same time Gio
opened the driver’s. The first thing his brother did was find the latch and
pop open the trunk. Catrina’s face was red, tears streaking down her cheeks
as she tried futility to take in oxygen. The hands around her throat were raw
from Catrina’s fingernails tearing into the skin.
Instantly, Catrina’s wide, frightened hazel eyes met her husband’s above
her. Shock registered in Bruno’s gaze at the same time.
Lucian choked out a painful noise at the back of the car. “Oh, God,
John. Papà’s here, John. Daddy’s here, sweet boy.”
“You’re going to die,” Dante snarled, his fist snapping out and
crunching against Bruno’s nose the moment the words left his lips.
Gio seized the man’s legs, dragging him from the car as Dante grabbed
his wife around the waist and pulled her out on his side. Shouts rang out
from the other side of the vehicle before two hard smacks shut the fool up.
Gio’s boot, likely.
Dante’s hands fluttered over his wife’s face, noting the bruise under her
eye and the split lip seeping blood. His anger welled harder as the tears fell
from Catrina’s eyes again, her sobs growing in intensity. Dante had only
seen his wife cry once.
Catrina didn’t cry and he knew she wouldn’t want anyone, even family,
seeing her in that state. Dante wiped the wetness from his wife’s face,
kissing her bruised lip gently. “Shhh, I got you, dolcezza.”
Catrina nodded wildly. “I know, you always do.”
Yeah, and he always fucking would, too.
“Crazy girl.”
“I love you, bello.”
“Ti amo, Catrina. Sempre.”
“Always,” she repeated in English.
“I thought you knew the rules,” Dante said, checking the awful hand
and fingerprints around her pale neck.
“I’m sorry,” Catrina cried, her sobbing starting up again.
“No, you’re not.”
Catrina shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
Dante looked over his wife’s shoulder to see Lucian cradling a
screaming Johnathan.
“We gotta get out of here soon,” Gio said, resting his arms on the top of
the car. “We still need to get the other car, too.”
“He dead yet?” Lucian asked.
“No, but he’s enjoying the taste of the heel of my boot right now.”
Lucian passed a look at Dante, asking a question without even saying a
word.
Can I, or do you want it?
Dante didn’t want to let Catrina go. “Take it, man.”
Lucian moved around the side of the car, handing Johnathan to Gio. As
Gio walked away, he covered his nephew with his coat. Lucian forced a
severely bleeding and dazed Bruno to his feet. Dante didn’t bother to make
his wife look away as the man was backed into the brick wall of the
building.
The gun his older brother loved—Lucian’s ever faithful Eagle—was
shoved so far into Bruno’s mouth the man gagged.
When Lucian pulled the hammer back, Bruno’s gaze flicked to Catrina.
Catrina smirked and whispered, “Boom.”
•••
Dante stood frozen to the spot in the entrance foyer of his parents’
home. His shoes felt as if someone had poured cement in them, making him
unable to move. Catrina didn’t seem to notice his plight as she went about
pulling off her jacket and booted heels, putting the items into the large
hallway closet.
Once she was done with her things, she began to undress Michel from
his coat, hat, and boots while Dante held the boy. Michel babbled away
while his mother fussed over him, most of his words unintelligible. One
word, however, stood out above the rest and was as clear as day: papà.
Michel had already taken to calling Catrina his mamma, apparently by
the encouragement of a picture from the nanny as Dante understood. As far
as Dante went, it only took the child one week to begin calling him papà. It
was fucking surreal, beautiful, and terrifying at the same time. Why?
Because Michel looked at Dante like he was his favorite and most
important person in the entire world. For Dante, there were no two people
more significant to him than Catrina and Michel. Not now.
Michel grinned, showing off the beginnings of his eyetooth breaking out
from the bottom of his gum. It was giving the kid hell and Dante knew it.
He’d spent three entire nights up soothing Michel because the boy seemed
to calm easier with Dante when he was in pain.
Dio, the boy was his son through and through. Blood or not, he just was.
“Are you nervous, bello?”
Dante gave his wife a once-over, eyeing the scarf she wore around her
neck to hide the yellowed bruises Bruno’s hands had caused a week earlier.
At least makeup covered the fading mark under her eye and that split lip the
asshole gave her was gone. It still didn’t help. Dante’s rage flooded fast and
swift like a destructive wave just at the thought alone.
But, this was their world. The man was gone, as was his threat. Very
few people knew what had happened, and that was the best thing for them
all. The less people who knew, the less people would talk amongst
themselves. No need to have the possibility of the officials finding out. As it
was, they had enough to deal with from the investigation from the accident.
“Yes,” Dante finally replied.
Catrina patted his cheek with her palm, drawing his gaze to hers. “Don’t
be. They’re your family and they will love him because he’s yours.”
Dante sucked in a breath. “Ours, you mean.”
“Sì, but I’m not the nervous one here.”
True, Dante thought with a smile.
Dante knew his anxiety was pointless in some ways. Michel had already
met most of his immediate family, like his aunts and uncles. Like it always
did, no matter how hard they tried to keep the boy a secret until they had
proper papers for him, word spread through the grapevine that Dante had
adopted a little boy who was Catrina’s biological son.
At least the right damn story was being told.
Unfortunately, adoption would stain Michel in a few eyes, and Dante
couldn’t have that. He had wanted to wait one more week of having their
son before confirming the rumors, but they didn’t have a choice what with
the whispers. Today, they would properly introduce him as Catrina’s son,
hopefully making the transition of Dante adopting the boy easier in others’
opinions.
Dante despised the fact that he needed anyone’s approval at all, but that
wasn’t how la famiglia worked.
Cosa Nostra was more than just a thing, more than a chosen profession.
It was a culture of people who came together for one common goal; people
who believed in the life they lived. They all existed under the constant
guide of rules and expectations, with loyalty and honor being a man’s
everything. Being a boss didn’t matter, not to the grand scheme of things.
La famiglia was more than one man—it was every man. It always would be.
Dante was ridiculously thankful for his mother, even if she had been
difficult at first about his marriage. The very next moment after she heard
about Michel, she came to meet the boy and like Dante, fell instantly in
love. Cecelia gently pointed out that if she knew, others were probably
learning about the baby, too. A large Sunday breakfast was organized by
Cecelia in just a quick couple of days. The woman was a tyrant.
Not their usual private affair with just the brothers and wives, but
instead, it was an open invitation to anyone in la famiglia. There wasn’t an
idiot on earth who would shun Antony Marcello’s wife. Dante knew an
open invitation meant everyone.
Guessing by the sounds of voices traveling through the large hallway,
most of the people were already there.
“Ready?” Catrina asked.
Dante swallowed back his nerves and nodded. Mostly, he didn’t want
people to reject his son because Michel was so beautiful and loved entirely
by his father. Others should love him, too. “Yeah, bella.”
Catrina offered her hand and Dante took it without question. Together
they walked through the foyer and hallway, taking their time to get to the
large kitchen connected to the dining room. The moment they came into
view at the entrance of the kitchen, heads turned and voices muted rapidly.
Michel, seemingly oblivious to the tension his father was feeling,
tugged on Dante’s shirt collar and stuck the fabric in his mouth to chew.
Dante chuckled, letting go of his wife’s hand to take the inedible clothing
from his son’s mouth, and kissing his tiny nose.
“No eating daddy, piccolo.”
“No Papà,” Michel babbled.
A throat cleared at the same time Catrina’s hand found Dante’s again.
His nervousness dissipated as he turned Michel to face the room of people
filling the kitchen and dining room. He wanted them to see his child’s face
so they could draw their own conclusions about his looks, especially the
fact Michel shared some of the same features Catrina did. It would help
with their story, if nothing else.
Most of the guests didn’t know about Dante’s inability to have children.
It wasn’t their business to, for one. Still, Dante had to remind himself that at
the same time, they also couldn’t possibly know how important the little
boy in his arms was to him; how much he needed and wanted this child.
“Who do you have there?” Antony asked, stepping into Dante’s line of
sight with arms outstretched to take his newest grandson. He had already
met Michel earlier in the week, but Dante recognized his father’s words as a
way to break the ice. Dante appreciated his father’s effort.
Dante smiled. “Mio figlio.”
My son.
Chapter Nineteen
Michel squirmed in his father’s lap, trying as hard as he could manage
to get out of the tight grasp Dante had on him. When he couldn’t, Michel let
out an angry wail. It echoed in the church, likely drawing the attention of
most of the parishioners.
Cat resisted the urge to flip whoever was watching them the bird. She
doubted Father Peter would appreciate that kind of behavior.
“Ah, none of that, mio regazzo,” Dante chided their son quietly.
“Hand him down,” Lucian said, reaching for his Godson.
“Zio!” Michel cried, tiny fingers clenching in his uncle’s direction.
Cat didn’t bother to hide her relieved sigh when Michel quieted with
Lucian. Dante chuckled, his hand finding his wife’s in the pew. Church was
always a little more difficult with kids in hand, she had come to learn.
Babies had no patience for services that took up most of their morning.
A morning that could be better spent by crawling around on the floor
trying to find pieces of dirt to eat. Cat didn’t try to understand her son, she
simply loved him.
“Guess what, bambino,” Lucian said, bouncing a happy Michel on his
lap. “I have a surprise for you.”
Jordyn smiled at her husband’s side, watching the exchange. Johnathan
napped in her lap, his favorite blanket curled around his arm and over his
head, keeping his face shielded from the light of the church.
Cat was grateful her brother and sister-in-law had forgiven her for the
things she had done. Family, they said. That’s what it was all about—what
the Marcellos were all about. Last Sunday, Jordyn and Lucian had become
Michel’s Godparents. Unfortunately, they had to wait a little longer than
they liked for the paperwork to be in order, but once it was, they wasted no
time getting their child christened.
Nonetheless, Cat was happy. Tired running after her boy, missing her
husband as he seemed to be working too often lately, and feeling stressed
from being pulled in so many directions … but she was happy.
“What surprise?” Cat asked Lucian quietly, glancing behind her
husband’s back down the pew.
Lucian shrugged. “Ask your husband.”
Dante’s fingers woven with Cat’s tightened. “Michel is going to go
home with Lucian and Jordyn after supper tonight.”
Cat’s mouth opened to protest immediately, but the look her husband
gave her shut whatever words she was going to say down. It wasn’t that she
didn’t trust Lucian and Jordyn, but Cat had yet to spend a night apart from
Michel since they brought him home where he belonged a month ago. She
wasn’t sure she was ready to leave him with someone else.
“Dante, I don’t—”
“No arguments,” Dante interrupted. “Now, be a good girl and listen to
the priest.”
Cat pinched the inside of her husband’s hand, annoyed.
Dante grinned, his voice turning to a whisper. “There’s those claws of
yours I love. Sharpen them up, kitten.”
Sweet Christ.
•••
As soon as they walked into the condo’s kitchen, Cat’s back hit the wall
with a hard thump. The air left her lungs in a burning whoosh as the warm
palms of her husband began exploring her curves. Instantly, Dante’s fingers
curled into the hem of Cat’s dress, bunching the fabric in his grasp and
yanking it up over her body. The coolness of the kitchen pebbled her skin
and hardened her nipples beneath the lace bra she wore.
That feeling didn’t last long. Under Dante’s intense gaze, Cat heated
right back up in a flash. The tips of his fingers dug into her sides, traveling
around to her backside where he squeezed the flesh of her ass roughly.
Wanting to feel more of him against her, Cat arched into Dante, but he
pushed her back to the wall without a word. His lips crashed down on hers
with a possessive intent, his tongue sweeping at the seam of her lips to
claim her mouth. Cat gave into his kiss and sighed when those hands of his
found her hair and tugged at the strands weaving between his fingers.
Cat loved it when Dante pulled her hair; adored it when he turned rough
in bed. The man was a perfect gentleman outside of their sex life. He
opened doors, pulled out chairs, and gave his wife first pick of everything.
Dante never stood for someone disrespecting Cat, and at the same time, he
treated her like an equal.
In bed, though … God, in bed he owned her. Fucked her beautifully
raw. He held nothing back, and she didn’t want him to. If anything, she
begged him for more. Dante demanded from her body; he consumed her.
There was no other man on the planet who Cat would give herself over
to like she did for Dante Marcello.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you, dolcezza,” Dante growled
against her lips.
“Worst time for you to be calling me that, you know.”
“I don’t think so.”
Cat fumbled with the buckle of Dante’s belt, needing his goddamn pants
gone as quickly as she could get them off. “There’s nothing sweet about me
in bed, bello. Especially when you’re fucking me.”
“Wrong.”
Dante punctuated the word by biting down hard on Cat’s lower lip. She
whined at the shock of pain melting into bliss as it shot through her
bloodstream like a drug injected straight into her heart. Surprised, she
forgot her mission of getting his pants off. He tugged on her hair again,
firmer the second time. The best sting radiated over her scalp. It was
enough to force Cat’s head to tilt back to the wall, her heart hammering fast.
His teeth found her collarbones, nipping and sucking until her skin tingled
and was marked all over by his kiss.
“God,” Cat breathed.
“Mmm, no, Dante.”
Before Cat could say another word, her husband dropped to his knees.
His hands dragged along her spine before pulling her panties down to her
ankles. Dante lifted the sole of Cat’s foot high enough to release the lace
from her leg. Then, her leg was hooked over his shoulder and his mouth
hovered at her exposed sex.
Dante licked Cat’s inner thigh. The action was a blatant promise of what
was to come, and she shuddered at the very thought of it.
“You’re so wrong about nothing being sweet on you, kitten.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, very wrong. Your pussy is the sweetest goddamn thing I’ve ever
tasted, and if I could, I would fucking live off it.”
Cat swallowed audibly, glancing down at the green eyes gleaming
wickedly. Whenever he fucked her with his mouth, her senses went on
overdrive. She could literally feel the pressure of his breath pulsing to her
sex.
“Dante—”
Her words cut off right along with her ability to think when his mouth
covered her sex. Immediately, a talented tongue tunneled between the lips
of her pussy and dipped into her core. Dante’s rhythm was relentless with
fast flicks and sharp jabs to her most sensitive tissues. His nose nuzzled at
the hood of her clit, giving the throbbing bundle of nerves just enough
friction to send waves of pleasure coursing through her channel.
Cat knew without a doubt her sex was soaked and getting wetter by the
second. There was nothing like Dante’s tongue working her pussy. His
fingers dug harder into the cheeks of her ass. Cat canted her hips into his
mouth. A knowing smile twisted Dante’s lips as he watched her from
between her thighs.
A choked gasp caught in her throat when his grip on her backside let go
and his fingers joined his mouth at her sex. She felt two fingers thrust into
her clenching core, curling to seek the spot to make her come. His fingers
fucked her in time with his tongue, spreading wide when they withdrew and
then twisting hard to stimulate her G-spot. Needing support, she braced her
hands palm up to the wall behind her. It didn’t take Cat long for her first
orgasm to sweep her under.
Dante gave no notice before he stood, picked his wife up, and turned
fast. In three long strides, Cat’s back met the table. She sprawled across the
oak top, hair flying wildly. Once more, Dante hooked her leg over his
shoulder, leaning down over her form and making her muscles burn.
Dante’s fingers found her sex again. He teased her slit with long strokes
from her clit to her entrance. “Always buy oak.”
“W-what?”
“Always buy oak. It’s the only thing sturdy enough for this.”
Dante’s free hand came up, finding Cat’s jaw and throat. She gulped in
air at the sight of her husband’s gaze darkening with lust as he pinned her
down to the table. His fingers left her sex and Cat heard the shuffle of his
pants being dropped.
“Oh my God.”
Dante smirked. “Nope, still Dante.”
He was the only God she cared to worship, anyway.
Cat found herself yanked to the edge of the table, her leg hooked over
his shoulder, and then the hand at her throat briefly tightened. It was the
only notice she got before Dante slammed inside of her.
Her back came off the table in an arch, a scream of bliss on the tip of
her tongue. Her sex shuddered around his intrusion, the heel of her stiletto
biting into his shoulder. Pleasure crawled through her veins, threatening to
take her under its current the moment her husband started to move,
pounding into her at a brutally good pace.
“Christ, yeah,” Dante groaned.
“Harder, Dante,” Cat gasped. “Fuck me harder.”
Dante obliged.
He always fucking did.
•••
Exhausted and spent, Cat allowed Dante to weave their fingers together
as he brought her down to his chest. The dampness from the perspiration
gathered on her skin chilled her in the bed, but her husband’s warmth and
the blanket he pulled over their bodies was enough to keep her from finding
clothes. Sex on the table had led to the hallway, and finally ended in bed.
Dante kissed a path along Cat’s forehead before she tucked her cheek
into the crook of his neck. The delicious scent of their sex and his cologne
surrounded her. A contented sigh escaped. Dante’s husky chuckles rocked
them both.
“Fuck, that was … intense.” Dante traced loopy circles over Cat’s
shoulders beneath the blanket. The soothing action would probably lull her
to sleep if she let it. “We need to do it more often. Or make time for it,
anyway.”
Cat agreed, leaning up enough to rest her chin on her hands in the
middle of his chest. Having a child to take care of certainly added an
entirely new road block in their sex life. It wasn’t that they didn’t connect
physically, because they did. But rather, with work, family, life, and Michel,
time was limited. A fast fuck was easier to manage and achieve than hours
of sweaty, hair pulling, skin biting sex.
Sure, it was still just as good—of course it was—but sometimes Cat
needed the workout only her husband could provide. It whipped away
stress, worries, and the nonsense cluttering her thoughts and left her bare to
nothing but sensation and emotions.
“Yeah, definitely make more time for this,” Dante murmured, his gaze
falling on Cat’s smiling lips.
Despite her tiredness, bliss was still singing its lovely tune through her
nervous system.
“Yes, and then regret it in the morning when we’ve only slept two
hours, right?” Cat asked teasingly.
Without warning, his palm smacked down on her ass. “Hey.”
Cat pouted. “Ouch.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t like to be spanked, kitten.”
A shiver crawled up her spine at the dark quality his tenor took on. “You
know I do.”
“No regrets about this,” Dante said.
His hands squeezed her ass to reinforce his statement and he ground her
into his semi-hard cock still inside her sex. The action had her pussy
clenching around his shaft. Dante groaned thickly and Cat felt his dick
twitch.
“Oh yeah, no regrets,” he repeated. “Please tell me you’re not tired, yet,
because I’m just about ready to bend you over and fuck you again.”
Cat chewed on her lower lip. “A little. You worked me hard.”
“You’re not complaining.” Dante huffed, arching a brow high. “Bath,
then?”
“Will you join me?”
“No need to ask that question at all, Amore.”
Twenty minutes later, Cat all but sunk into the steaming hot, bubbly
water while her body raged through another orgasm. Water sloshed around
the edges of the tub. Cat’s hair, piled high on the top of her head, was damp
with her sweat and from Dante’s wet hand gripping tight to the strands. He
kept her head to the side while he fucked her, allowing him to mark her
neck with his kisses.
She tried to catch her breath as Dante’s fingers toyed with her clit and
his cock continued thrusting deep into her channel. Shaking and weak, Cat
gave herself over to the ecstasy pounding at her insides. Not for a single
second did her husband relent in his pace, never mind his fingers playing
the sweetest rhythm in tune to his cock. Behind her, Dante finally let go of
her hair before wrapping his strong arm around her middle. Cat let her head
fall back to his shoulder, kissing the underside of his jaw.
“Madonn,” Cat breathed, leaning back up at her husband’s request.
Dante followed right behind, keeping a hold of her all the while. She
grabbed his thighs for support. “You’re going to kill me.”
Dante laughed the sexiest sound. His tongue stuck out at the junction of
Cat’s neck and shoulder. “I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop,
Catrina.”
“I would never beg you to stop—”
“I know,” he interjected, sounding both amused and turned on at the
same time. “That’s what I fucking love about it. One more, kitten. Come for
me one more time.”
Cat didn’t bother to respond. She simply let Dante work her body the
best way he knew how. Her final orgasm didn’t come easily like the others.
No, it built hard and slow, working its way up to the peak as her entire body
rocked with tremors. Dante’s voice in her ear, his words a gruff Italian and a
balm to her soul, urged her to the finish as he begged her to come on his
cock.
The release was blinding when it did take hold, turning all of Cat’s
muscles to nothing but jello. Her inner walls clamped down and her cry of
Dante’s name bounced off the walls.
“Up, move up,” Dante whispered.
“I can’t,” she mumbled as the rushes of bliss wracked her womb.
Cristo, she tried and she just couldn’t fucking move for him.
“S’okay. Breathe, kitten.”
Dante didn’t ask Cat to move again. Instead, he lifted her off his cock as
if she didn’t weigh a thing, turned her around so she was facing him, and
then sunk into her tender, clenching sex all over again. The softest, most
gentle kiss jarred Cat from her dazed stupor. The pleased, contented stare
her husband leveled on her was so fucking beautiful it ached.
In an unhurried pace, keeping a hold on her backside to lift her up and
down on his length, Dante fucked Cat to his own finish. She felt his cock
twitch right before his come filled her in thick streams. Dante’s moan
melted into a satisfied sigh, the sound muffled against Cat’s neck.
“Cazzo, you’re so fucking perfect. Ti amo, bella mia.”
Cat hummed, placing a kiss to his racing pulse. “Ti amo.”
Dante’s foot kicked, knocking the plug in the tub out. While the water
began to drain slowly, Cat milked in her husband’s attention, grateful that
she would have it on only her for the rest of the evening and well into the
next day. Deft fingers rubbed circles into her sore muscles. His kisses
peppered her hair and face.
“Thank you. I needed this and wouldn’t have asked someone to watch
him myself,” Cat confessed quietly.
“I know you did. I needed it, too. That’s why I asked Lucian to take
Michel. Besides, with the Commission meeting in two days, our heads
needed to be screwed on straight. Fucking you always puts me in the right
mindset.”
Cat shook her head, giggling. “True. Still … We’re not selfish for taking
a night away from him so we could do this, right?”
Dante laughed. “I sure as fuck think not. We earned it, Catrina.”
“I still feel a little bit guilty.”
“Don’t. You’re a good mother, Amore.”
“Am I?”
“Of course.”
Dante was an even better father, in Cat’s opinion. Michel was so
attached to Dante that he rarely allowed his papà out of his sight when they
were in the same room. Dante doted on the boy constantly, feeding to his
every whim and desire.
Sometimes, though it was rare, Cat even felt like an outsider when she
watched the two together. They were a perfect fit as father and son. Dante
was a natural, too. He never balked or shied away from parenting or the
responsibility Michel added onto his life.
He loved the child. Like Cat did. And a lot like how they loved one
another, she supposed.
Dante deserved more children if the way he loved Michel was any
indication of how he would love others. Even the house they were
surveying to buy was built for a big family, yet they had no children but
Michel to fill the empty bedrooms. A wisp of sadness floated through Cat,
dimming her remaining high.
“You know, you always tense up when something upsets you,” Dante
said as the last bit of water drained from the tub. “Especially in your
shoulders. And you get a little wrinkle between your eyebrows, but it
doesn’t stay long.”
“You’re the only man to notice these things because you’re the one man
I’ve let hold me like this,” Cat replied. “More importantly, you’re the only
man I’ve allowed see me when I am upset over something. Even if it is
trivial.”
“I figured.”
Dante pushed them upward, helping Cat to her feet and then out of the
slick tub. He got out, too, grabbing a towel to pat his wife dry before
wrapping it around her frame. Pulling the second towel from the rack, he
wiped his body down and secured the fabric around his waist.
“Talk to me,” Dante demanded.
“It’s not important, and I don’t want to bring up bad feelings.”
Dante waved at her, shrugging. “You’re already upset so your point is
moot. We’ve had a great night. Do you really want to end it with us arguing
about something?”
“There’s no need to argue because there isn’t anything to say. It was just
a thought that sneaked up on me, and I wasn’t expecting it to. It’s an idea
neither of us can entertain, so why bother talking about it?”
Dante’s gaze narrowed. “What idea?”
Cat wet her lips, wondering how to voice her gloomy thoughts. “I was
thinking about children.”
“Uh …” A frown marred Dante’s features, his own sadness darkening
his eyes. “I’m sorry, you’re going to need to explain that, Cat, because we
both know there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Exactly,” Cat murmured. “Just the look on your face said it all.”
“Because we have a child. Our son. I don’t understand why you’re
thinking of more children at all.”
“I was thinking you were such a good father and you loved kids, so I
wished I could give you more.”
Dante cleared his throat, giving his wife a confused look. “Dolcezza,
between us, I’m the one who can’t give you more children. You work just
fine. I don’t.”
“I don’t like it when you say it that way, Dante.”
“Well, it’s true. You were right, why bother talking about it? We can’t
entertain it.”
Cat blinked away tears she hadn’t realized were there until they stung
her eyes. Silent and somber, Dante walked past her, leaving her alone in the
bathroom. Breathing deeply to ward off the battering emotions threatening
to take her under its current, Cat took a few minutes to rethink what she
wanted from Dante. Most importantly, in regards to children.
Dante kept saying the possibility was dead. Knowing the advancements
in the field of infertility treatment, Cat doubted that was really the case.
There had to be some kind of treatment to help them besides donors. That
one was out of the question.
If she were truly honest, being with and loving her husband made her
want to be a mother again, too. Her reasons for considering more children
wasn’t just for Dante, but for herself. Michel hadn’t just changed Dante, he
changed Cat, too.
Cat grabbed her silk robe off the hook on the back of the bathroom door.
She pulled it on and tied the sash tight at her waist. Dante was already
under the blankets in their bed, his back turned to her.
“You’re angry with me now.” She could practically feeling his irritation
from across the room.
“Not you, more myself,” Dante said. “I would never blame you for
wanting something normal. And like I always knew I would, I’m left
apologizing to a woman who loves me for being incapable of giving her
what she wants and deserves. My failures only hold you back and that
pisses me off, Catrina.”
“This isn’t a failure on your part, and I don’t want your apology. I don’t
need it. I want to go have testing done,” Cat said before her nerve ran out.
Dante’s shoulders stiffened before he rotated in the bed to face Cat. “I
beg your pardon?”
“Just what I said. We should know if the possibility is completely nil or
not.”
“It is,” Dante said, the words hissing through his teeth. “I’ve had two
rounds of testing done. I have no desire to go through it again just to be told
I don’t have the soldiers to get the job done, Cat. It’s fucking embarrassing
and goddamn undignified.”
“You had the last round of testing done nearly a decade ago.”
“So, what’s your point?”
“Didn’t they tell you your fertility might come back, even if it would be
at a lesser potency?” Cat asked.
Dante’s jaw ticked. “How do you know that?”
“Because I wanted to understand, Dante. I know reading up doesn’t give
a clear outlook on the precise issue, but it does give me an idea about
things. The fact remains, there is a chance your fertility could return.”
“It returning is about as rare as losing it to rubella.”
“I’m aware of that, too.”
“What do you want from me, Cat?”
“I want you to have the testing done again, and not just for you, but for
me, too. It would be nice to know if the option of another child might
possibly be there for the future.”
“And if it isn’t, will you end up resenting me for it?”
“No. How could I when I love you?”
Dante nodded once. “Fine. Come to bed, bellissima donna.”
•••
“Antony won’t be joining us today?” a male voice asked.
“No,” Giovanni answered. “Neither will Paulie, which is why I’m here
to take his place.”
“Good to see you again, Giovanni.”
“And you, Max.”
“Maximo Sorrento, Vegas,” Dante said quickly to his wife. “Gio had
some issues in that sector.”
Cat nodded.
Yeah, Kim. She knew.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Maximo Sorrento said with not a hint
of disdain in his words. “You missed last year’s Commission meeting.”
“Is me being here going to be a problem?” Giovanni asked.
“Absolutely not. How is your wife?”
“Happy. Very loved.”
“Wonderful,” Maximo murmured. “Her brother will be pleased to hear
it.”
Cat was sure she could hear the smirk in her brother-in-law’s voice
when Gio said, “Send our regards.”
“I’ll consider it.”
A sigh resounded in the private dining room of a restaurant owned by a
fellow New York family. Men shifted in their seats, a sign of restlessness
and impatience. The restaurant seemed the best place for the meeting of the
Commission to be held this year, according to Cat’s husband, and the safest.
“Lucian …” a new voice said as the oldest Marcello brother walked into
the room ahead of Cat and Dante. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Terrance, Chicago; Lucian thinks lowly of him for some issues that
went down a couple of years back,” Dante explained.
Cat’s hand in Dante’s tightened in acknowledgment. She had already
met the families from New York, but this had been her husband’s way of
setting the men inside even more off kilter with Cat’s presence. Nobody
liked to be known before they had introduced themselves.
“Oh, why do I deserve congratulating?” Lucian asked.
“Your little boy.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
When Cat heard Lucian take a seat, another new voice asked, “If
Antony isn’t coming and neither is his consigliere, I can safely assume the
Commission will be giving our approval on your new leader, yes?”
“Guzzi leader, Canada. Easy to handle since he doesn’t need much;
usually quiet,” Dante said.
“For one,” Gio answered the Canadian Don vaguely.
“Hmm,” Maximo hummed low. “I heard there was some interesting
things happening down this way, but I couldn’t get any real confirmation.”
“Like what?” Lucian asked.
“I think you know,” Maximo said. “And I’m not sure how I like it.”
“What am I missing?” Terrance asked.
Maximo chuckled. “A woman.”
“A woman, is that all?” Terrance scoffed. “Dante had to marry, didn’t
he? Shame practically no one was invited to the wedding.”
“Sì, a woman … but in business, no less. Can you imagine?”
“No one, including Dante, is asking for anyone’s permission regarding
my brother’s new wife and her profession intermingling with his,” Lucian
stated like there wasn’t a soul around him who mattered.
Dante smiled over at his wife. Cat’s grin matched his. “Ready?”
Cat winked. “Always, bello.”
“Try to behave, huh?” Then, Dante rolled his eyes. “Never mind, we
both know you won’t.”
“You love it, admit it.”
Dante’s fingers weaved with hers squeezed. “Later.”
“What do you mean, Maximo?” Terrance asked. “Are you saying his
wife is—”
Cat walked into the private dining room at her husband’s side,
immediately catching every eye in the room. There was more men than she
had expected, given only a few had talked. Each boss sported a team of men
at his disposal for the meeting, it seemed.
She almost laughed at their gawking, but refrained when their years of
learned manners kicked in and all stood from their chairs. Mobsters, sure,
but gentlemen nonetheless. A proper man always stood for a lady, even if
she wasn’t supposed to be where she was.
“Look,” Cat whispered to her husband teasingly. “They’re welcoming
me.”
“Hush,” Dante said, smiling slyly.
The room was deathly still as Dante walked his wife across the floor to
the head of the table. Several tables had been pushed together to create one
long conference area. Lucian shot Dante a look Cat couldn’t decipher as she
took a seat Giovanni offered. Dante stood behind his wife with his hands on
the back of her chair. She didn’t like that she couldn’t see his face, but
decided this wasn’t the time to push it.
When Dante pushed Cat’s chair in, the rest of the men sat down.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Dante greeted.
Silence.
Dante had told her to behave, but he said nothing about making the
other men uncomfortable. There was nothing Cat did better than unsettle
men. Cat shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and surveying the men
watching her like she was a foreign object about to lodge in one of their
eyes.
Several gazes caught her form, raking over her features, taking her in.
Cat didn’t mind, she was used to being looked at like a piece of prized
meat. Despite her husband’s light protesting earlier that morning about her
choice of what to wear, Cat made a special effort to appear a certain way for
the meeting of the bosses. Her signature bodycon-style dress, black, spiked
heels to accentuate her legs, smoky eyes, and blood red lips.
Sure, Dante would have to resist beating the hell out of a few people,
but that wasn’t anything new. Cat needed to be on her game, which mean
she needed the men around her to be completely thrown off theirs. A
woman like her, looking a certain way, would do just that.
Her husband, however, didn’t have the same kind of patience for the
nonsense she did. Dante was a jealous man and Cat loved it.
“I realize my wife is beautiful, and I’ll take your visual surveying as a
compliment, but right now you’re pissing me off,” Dante said warningly.
“And worse, if you keep looking at my wife like you want to fuck her, I’m
going to start nailing people to the wall with bullets.”
Throats cleared around the room and gazes shifted from Cat’s body to
her face.
Dante’s hand rested to Cat’s shoulder, his fingers grazing her neck.
“Thank you.”
Cat reached up and patted her husband’s hand. “Who needs to behave
now?”
Dante huffed under his breath. “Some of you already know my wife, but
for those who don’t, her name is Catrina Marcello. She goes by Cat to me
and our family, so don’t be surprised if my brothers regard her as such.
Beware, calling her Cat without her permission may earn you a slice or two
from her claws. She is half-Sicilian, half-American-Italian. We married a
few months ago in our family’s church with close friends and family as our
only guests.
“Cat is an extremely successful Queen Pin and her profession takes her
across the country handling a variety of clientele that some men in this
room would die to have connections for,” Dante continued, keeping a
confident, cool tenor. “She is, in all aspects of the Marcello family, my
partner. And not just as my wife. Believe me when I say she has earned the
respect of a couple of men in this room already, as well as my men, simply
by being who she is.”
“And I’m wonderful,” Cat added, laughing lightly. “In a very terrible
way.”
Giovanni chuckled to Cat’s left. “I think the word you’re looking for is
hellish.”
“Be nice, Giovanni.”
Dante ignored his brother and tugged on a lock of Cat’s hair gently.
“You are.” Turning his attention back to the table, Dante said, “My father
has formally stepped down and has been for a while now. My seat was
chosen and given without issue or refute. I’ve met every requirement
demanded by the Commission in order for me to be a suitable Don for the
Marcellos. Would anyone like to object to my leadership in New York?”
Again, nothing but stares answered them back. Cat was getting bored.
Cat tilted her head back and smiled up at Dante in a way she knew
looked as sardonic as her next words. “If they continue this silent treatment,
it’s going to be a short meeting.”
“That it is, Amore,” her husband agreed.
“Not that I mind,” Cat added, pulling out her nail file from her clutch.
Nothing pissed men off more than when a woman acted as if they didn’t
matter. She went about buffing her nails. “I have things to do, so the quicker
this is done with, the better.”
“Like what?” Terrance asked. “Getting your nails done?”
Cat flashed her teeth at the man in a sneer, canting her head as if he
were a small child needing a scolding. “Perhaps, they are feeling terribly
underused this week. I’ve been looking for the right throat to rip out and
yours just might do.”
Dante chuckled. “Enough, Catrina.”
“I have no issue with your new status,” Maximo stated, his voice
turning dangerously calm. “I do, however, take issue with you bringing a
woman to this—”
“This woman is my wife,” Dante interrupted sharply. “And she is not
like your wife, or anyone else’s wife in this room today. As I already said,
she is also my partner, which means if I choose to bring her along as a
councillor because our businesses tend to intermingle and what benefits me
is also good for her, I have every right to do that.”
“She is a woman!” Terrance barked. “Women are not allowed in—”
“You are not Cosa Nostra,” Dante replied, shutting the man up instantly.
“It would be extremely wise of you to remember that right now, Terrance.
You choose not to follow the rules the rest of the men in this room do, so do
not throw them in my face when it feels convenient for you to do so.”
“I also don’t like this,” the Guzzi leader at the end said, his dark brow
lifting in Cat’s direction. “Women in business never mix well.”
Dante moved to the side, pulling out a chair and sitting beside Cat.
“Mine does.”
“You’re making a charade of Cosa Nostra, and I can’t accept that,”
Maximo said from across the table.
Dante shrugged under his black suit jacket. “Then ask me to leave.”
The men were quiet.
“You won’t though, will you?” Dante asked, humor coloring his words.
“Because if the Marcellos leave this table, the rest of you might as well go,
too. In one way or another, too much of your business is tied to New York
and the families here. Without our contacts in the shipping district, many of
you would need to rethink your imports.”
“Without our contacts in the political scene, some of you wouldn’t be
nearly as integrated into the political side of things as you are,” Lucian
added.
Giovanni laughed. “I’m just here for the show.”
Dante gave his younger brother a look, and Cat suppressed her knowing
smile.
“Regardless, it gives you some things to consider,” Dante said, resting
his hands to the table and lacing his fingers. “How many times have the
Marcellos offered protection to one of you, or even pulled their weight with
connections to take the heat off your mistakes? We are the dominating
family at this table both in size and territory. We are the most profitable, and
because we tend to work with others, if we cut you off in some areas, your
connections to New York will drop like flies. Trust me when I say the
families in this state have no issue with accepting my wife into the fold for
their own gain.”
“Are you trying to suggest we might think of you as the capo di tutti
capi at this table?” Maximo asked.
“Absolutely not,” Dante answered.
Cat didn’t bother to hide her smile that time. Dante’s unspoken words
were a hell of a lot louder than his actual ones: But we both know I am.
“I would like something clarified,” a voice to Cat’s far left said.
She tensed at Carl Calabrese’s arrogant tone. She disliked him from
their first meeting, but she also knew he wouldn’t take issue with her. Not
after their dinner and Dante’s offer.
“What’s that, Carl?”
“A rumor has been going around,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Yes, that you adopted a little boy.”
Dante straightened in his chair as every gaze landed on him. He had
forewarned Cat their son might be brought up at the meeting, but she didn’t
like the way the word adopted was all but spit from the man’s lips. As if
Michel was worth less than any other child because of the way he became
Dante’s son.
“What about it?” Dante asked.
“It’s true?”
“Adoption isn’t looked highly upon,” Terrance put in, shaking his head.
“And not just by Cosa Nostra this time, Dante.”
“He’s my son,” Cat said, wanting to take the attention off her husband
for the moment. “And not in the adopted way, but biologically, he’s mine.
My reasons for keeping him from my husband’s attention were for the little
boy’s safety from his biological father.”
“Where is his father?” Maximo asked.
“Dante is his father,” Lucian said instantly.
“His real father, then.”
“Dead,” Dante murmured. “And my son won’t miss a thing with the
man in the ground where he belongs. Technically, my adoption of him can
be considered safe, and since he has no family but my wife, there would be
no future issue with anyone else. Can we move on? Michel’s status as my
son is solid—I won’t argue about it.”
“You know,” Cat said quietly, bringing everyone back to her as she
began buffing her nails again. “Arguing over whether or not I have the balls
to sit at this table with the rest of you is pointless. I have little to prove to
any of you, nor do I have to. So, you can choose to keep acting like you’re
afraid that a pair of tits and a set of ovaries might have something important
to say, or we can sit down like the business people we are and get to work.
Your choice, boys.”
Dante leaned back in his chair, unfazed at Cat’s side. “I think she said
that quite well, don’t you?”
The men started talking.
Chapter Twenty
A two-year-old Johnathan ran past his uncle’s legs, his forehead missing
the corner of the kitchen counter by only millimeters. Dante tried hard not
to laugh when the kid lost his footing at the surprise turn and toppled head
over heels to the floor. It wasn’t a blink before Johnathan was back up on
his feet, brushing off the fall like it never even happened, and running right
back out of the kitchen.
Dante shook his head, wondering where Johnathan got his constant
energy. Lucian was always so laidback. Well, unless someone pissed him
off, but that wasn’t even remotely the same as Johnathan’s hyperactivity.
Johnathan was like a toddler on fucking speed.
There was something about his oldest nephew that always made Dante
happy, no matter what his day was going like. Johnathan seemed to have
that effect on everyone. The kid was always trying to pull some nonsense
that had hilarity ensuing. He certainly gave Lucian and Jordyn a run for
their money.
Dante turned to the three women sitting around his new kitchen table
playing a game of cards. The brothers, their wives, and the kids still went to
Antony’s and Cecelia’s for Sunday dinner, but Saturdays were now reserved
for their families to get together and do whatever. This Saturday was Dante
and Catrina’s, which usually meant barbeque, beer, and no business for the
brothers.
Catrina and Dante had settled in their new home a half of a year earlier.
Sometimes he missed his condo, but mostly, he loved his home. Because he
made it with his wife and son.
“Jesus, he’s got energy to burn,” Dante said, chuckling.
Jordyn smiled from her spot at the table. “Tell me about it. He might as
well get it out of his system while we’re at your house. He’s less likely to
break something at home that way.”
“Thanks for that,” Catrina replied, popping her middle finger up at the
same time.
“Hey, just saying it like I see it.”
“Clearly you’ve been spending too much time near Giovanni,” Kim
said, glancing at the cards face up around the table and then at her own
hand. She hummed indecisively before folding her hand. “You should stop
that before you catch his nonsense like a bad habit you can’t break.”
“Are you fucking counting cards again?” Jordyn asked, eyes narrowing.
“You’re such a cheater!”
“I am not!”
“That’s a habit right there,” Catrina put in, jerking her thumb in Kim’s
direction. “She does it every time, and you keep expecting her to stop. She’s
never going to stop. Addiction is a disease, don’t you know.”
“I was not counting!” Kim half-yelled, laughing.
“Liar,” Jordyn muttered. “Don’t know why I play poker with you. Even
your own husband refuses to play with you.”
“That’s not why he won’t play. Gio just doesn’t like to be beat at his
own games.”
Dante hid his grin from the women, knowing they’d turn on him.
Leaning on the counter, Dante nodded at Jordyn and asked, “How’re you
going to keep up with Johnathan when the next one gets here?”
Jordyn shrugged, her hand falling to the roundness of her midsection.
“Coffee. Lots of coffee.”
“And a benny or two,” Kim joked.
Jordyn snorted under her breath. “Hey, I’m not ruling that out, yet.”
Jordyn was just over eight months along in her pregnancy. It wouldn’t
be long before the first Marcello principessa for the next generation was
going to be making her appearance. There was a whole new level of
excitement for the family with this baby.
Good God. A daughter. Dante hoped his brother was ready for that
world of trouble right there.
Catrina caught Dante’s eye across the room, her eyebrow cocking.
“What are you doing in here, anyway?”
“Forgot my sauce.”
“Well, get it and get out. We were having a nice non-male involved
conversation before you came in.”
Dante could see the humor glittering in his wife’s gaze, but he still acted
offended. “This is my house!”
“My kitchen,” Catrina retorted. “The only things you own in this room
is your shelf in the fridge, your chair at the table, and that ugly coffee cup in
the cupboard. Now get out.”
Damn it. It was like growing up in his parents’ home all over again.
“Besides, Dante, are you interested in having a discussion on the
postpartum side of pregnancy?”
Dante cringed. Nope, he most certainly was not interested.
“Later, ladies.”
Laughter followed him as he grabbed the container he needed from the
fridge and made a hasty exit. There were some conversations men did not
need to have or be a part of. That was one of them.
Dante was not getting caught up in that mess.
•••
Dante fell into the lawn chair, taking the beer he was offered by Lucian
and handing over the container of sauce as he sat. As his brother made the
move to go towards the house, Dante muttered, “I wouldn’t do that, man.”
Lucian turned, brow lifting. “Why?”
“They’re a particular brand of their special kind of nasty today.”
“But … my whiskey is in your freezer. I can’t make whiskey chicken
with no whiskey, Dante.”
“Not my kitchen,” Dante replied, repeating his wife’s words. “You
should have put it on my shelf in the fridge. And guessing from Catrina’s
spiel this morning before you guys got here, she’s this close to labeling the
damn shelf. So hey, pretty soon you won’t even have to guess which one is
mine.”
Gio chuckled at Dante’s left. “She’s just like Mom.”
Dante scowled. “Don’t say that shit. It really screws with my head.
There’s nothing sexy about that thought.”
“What, like you married your moth—”
“I said don’t fucking say it!”
Lucian didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “They get worse and
worse every time they all get together in the same room. I swear to fuc—”
His eyes cut to his son running across the lawn with a miniature wooden
baseball bat in hand. “—fudging God they feed off one another.”
“Like Johnathan doesn’t know the word fuck,” Gio said, scoffing.
Dante popped the top off his beer, tossed the cap into a steel can, and
took a long swig. “Truth.”
“Because you taught it to him, Gio,” Lucian grumbled. “Jordyn still
doesn’t believe me when I tell her that, by the way.”
“Hey, at least I had the insight to teach him how to use it properly. Give
me credit where it’s due.”
“That’s not the point, Gio. Besides, you ought to curb your own mouth,
considering …” Lucian trailed off, shooting a pointed glance at the baby
boy snuggled into his youngest brother’s chest.
Gio shrugged, his hand rhythmically patting Andino’s bottom to keep
him asleep. “I’ve still got time before I need to worry. Should have known
your kid was going to pick up some bad habits off me eventually, man.”
Dante shook his head, still disbelieving that Giovanni was a father to a
nine-week-old son. It wasn’t that Gio was a bad father, because he wasn’t.
He was great, actually, and that was a little surprising, too. Maybe it
shouldn’t have been, but shit, it was Gio.
Gio was the biggest mess of the three brothers growing up. There was
no self-control or restraint. His attitude towards life in general was
frightening at times. If someone would have told Dante his younger brother
would grow the fuck up, settle the hell down, and be a dad—a great one
who was totally enamoured and in love with his son—he might not have
believed it back then.
A father. Gio was a father. A dad.
Kind of crazy.
“Baseball!” Johnathan shouted repeatedly the closer he came to Lucian.
“I wants baseball, Papà!”
“You want to play baseball,” Lucian corrected.
Johnathan’s foot stomped into the ground. “I says that!”
Lucian sighed. “You need the ball, too. Go find it and we’ll play.”
Johnathan dropped the bat to the ground and turned on his heel at the
same time, running back towards the garage where all the outside toys were
kept. Once the kid was out of sight, Dante turned back to his younger
brother.
“When’s your next one coming?” Dante jokingly asked Gio.
Gio smirked. “It’s not. I got clipped at Andino’s two week checkup. One
and done, Dante.”
“Seriously?” Lucian asked.
“Yeah. Did it right in the doctor’s office. If you don’t watch, it’s not that
bad.”
“No, I mean, you’re done having kids altogether?”
“I just said that, Lucian. Clean out your fucking ears.”
Dante was confused as hell. “But you’re a great dad.”
Gio waved the comment off. “So I’ll be great to only Andino. One felt
right. Kim and I are fine with stopping at him.”
Quiet childish murmurings and giggles coming from the baby monitor
beside Dante stopped him from questioning Gio further. Knowing Catrina
was thoroughly enjoying herself inside with the other girls, Dante didn’t
want to interrupt his wife to go fetch Michel from his nap. Excusing
himself, he slipped back into the house and trekked upstairs to find his
nearly two-year-old adopted son bouncing up and down in his crib.
He probably should have been out of the damn thing by now and into a
toddler bed, but Michel was too curious for his own good and got into
everything.
“What are you doing, piccolo?” Dante asked, picking the brown-eyed
boy up.
“Out, Papà.”
“Come see Daddy, Michel.”
The big grin his son sported at merely being in the presence of his father
warmed Dante instantly. There were so many things in life Dante thought
he would have to live without—the child in his arms being one; the woman
downstairs with his last name who he loved entirely being two.
After all, if he couldn’t offer a woman the normal things that came
along with love and marriage, what did he really have to give?
Not a lot.
Dante couldn’t have been more wrong.
It had always been a wonder of Dante’s how his father Antony never
treated Lucian any differently from his other sons. It wasn’t that he thought
his father loved Lucian in a lesser way, but maybe that it couldn’t possibly
be the same as the children he helped create.
Again, Dante was crazy wrong.
For Catrina and Michel, Dante lived. No one else gave him those
feelings or that desire. No one in the world could bring forth the almost
possessive need to protect, cherish, and love like his wife and son.
And Michel … God, Michel.
All brown eyes, blond hair, and little fingers waving.
Every little inch of him was amazing.
The child may not have shared Dante’s blood or his genes, but he sure
as hell shared everything else. From the moment he held the boy for the
first time, Dante didn’t care about what might have been, or could have
been. He let his lingering anger towards his wife for her lies go—he loved.
More than he ever thought possible, he loved.
“Guess who’s here?” Dante asked his son while he changed Michel’s
clothes into something suitable for playing outside. “Uncle Lucian …
Johnathan … and—”
“Kunckle Gio!”
Dante laughed. There was something about Gio the kids adored. It was
probably his lack of a filter and the fact everyone was always giving him
shit for something or other, much like the kids. Gio was also uninhibited in
basically everything he did, so fun was a guarantee whenever he was
involved.
Tugging on Michel’s pants, and putting on a pair of small Adidas
sneakers, Dante set his son down to the floor. Michel was out of the room in
a flash, tiny feet smacking all the way down the hall. Dante ran to catch up,
keeping close as his boy maneuvered his way down the stairs.
Dante was just passing the kitchen and happened to notice his wife
wasn’t sitting at the table with Kim and Jordyn. He let Michel go on ahead,
waiting as his son pulled open the porch doors and disappeared outside.
“Where’s Cat?” Dante asked, popping inside the kitchen.
Jordyn looked up from her phone. “You didn’t see her upstairs?”
“No.”
“That’s where she went, I guess. Something about a load of clothes in
the washer.”
Dante nodded and slipped back out of the kitchen. He didn’t make his
way outside, though. Instead, he went in search of his wife. Catrina was
anal about keeping the house clean, laundry managed, and everything in
order, but never on the days when their family was there. Something felt
off, so he followed his gut.
Sure enough, the laundry room upstairs was empty. The attached
bathroom to their master bedroom, however, was not. The anxious stare
Catrina wore mixed in with her teeth chewing on her bottom lip said Dante
was correct in thinking something might be wrong.
“What’s up?” Dante asked his wife, leaning in the doorway.
Catrina sat on the edge of the tub, her hands hidden in her lap. “I can’t
check it.”
“Huh?”
A thin piece of pink and white plastic flashed in the air before it
vanished under Catrina’s hands in her lap. Understanding dawned on Dante.
He wasn’t entirely sure what to say to ease her nerves.
That evening his wife had asked him to have the sperm viability testing
done so they could know if more children were possible started the ball
rolling. For Dante, the procedure was simple, if not a little awkward. He
expected the same results he’d received before: sterile, no viable sperm, and
absolutely no chance of producing children in the future.
A third time to add to his list of things he was wrong about.
The results weren’t exactly good, but it wasn’t a definite no like before,
either. Would the old-fashioned way work? Probably not. After going over
what could be done to help everything along, Dante and Catrina decided on
a selective procedure. The healthiest sperm were collected and stored,
which took a great deal of time to retrieve a decent amount. During a fertile
period, they were inseminated directly into the womb, closer to the spot
they needed to be to get the job done.
Dante hated it. For him, it was uncomfortable to have repeat sessions
with his palm only to hand it over for a specialists to look at his spunk
under a microscope. For his wife, it was invasive to have those same people
demanding she take shots of hormones and playing around in her uterus.
For months they tried … and nothing.
The standard procedure was for Catrina to begin using home pregnancy
tests as soon as the test would possibly show a pregnancy. That could be up
to five days before her first missed cycle.
Hence, the test hidden in Catrina’s lap.
Still, he was surprised to see her holding a pregnancy test at all. After
all this time of disappointment, he told his wife to stop testing and wait to
see if her cycles came naturally. It was emotionally draining to get excited
over and over only to be let down again and again.
Dante frowned, tensing up. An argument with his wife was not high on
his important-shit-to-do list. “I thought we talked about this.”
“I know we did,” Catrina whispered. “But the girls were talking
downstairs about things. It got me thinking and it nagged at me. I haven’t
checked at all this month, Dante. I’m not late yet. I’m only one day early,
but I haven’t checked once.”
“You said you weren’t going to at all,” he replied quietly.
“I couldn’t help it.”
“Listen, Cat, I love Michel.”
Catrina’s head popped up, her eyes flying wide. “I know you do!”
“No, I just mean I love that boy.” Dante stepped further into the
bathroom, shutting the door behind him in case someone came upstairs and
accidentally overheard their conversation. While his fertility problems were
known to his brothers, Dante didn’t openly discuss what he and his wife
were doing to try and fix the issues. “He’s my boy, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Okay, so just know that I’m fine with only him, too.”
Catrina’s chewing on her bottom lip started up again. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. I don’t want to keep doing these procedures and putting
you and me through hell every month emotionally and physically when we
really don’t need to. We’ve got our son. He’s healthy, happy, and perfect.
He is so loved. Who fucking cares if he’s not mine biologically?
“This is the last time I want to see one of those things in my house,”
Dante continued, waving at the piece of plastic poking out in Catrina’s
hand. “I don’t want to keep doing this for nothing. We tried. It didn’t work.
It’s over. I’m fine with that. Michel is enough for me, Cat. He is.”
“There’s still the IVF option, too,” Catrina said. “It’s better odds.”
Dante sighed heavily. “Is that something you want to go ahead with?”
“Not really. I figured if this didn’t work, it didn’t.”
“Okay, so let it be, Amore. We have our boy. He’s enough for us.
Right?”
“Okay, you’re right. I know you’re right.” Catrina stood from the edge
of the tub and set the pregnancy test facedown to the countertop. “Last time,
I promise.”
Then, she did nothing.
“Still can’t check it?”
“Nope. Probably because I know it is the last time. That makes it even
more final. It’s hurt enough, bello.”
“We could throw it away and forget about it,” Dante suggested.
“Yeah, right.” Catrina scoffed. “And then one of us will be back up here
digging through the fucking garbage can in five minutes. Just look at the
damn thing for me.”
Dante laughed, reaching out to grab his wife by the shoulders and pull
her into his embrace. Catrina buried her face into his chest and immediately
relaxed. It reminded him of all the reasons why he loved his wife in one
simple action.
Catrina was one hell of a strong woman. She was feisty as fuck, took no
shit off no man, could handle herself in some of the most frightening
situations and wouldn’t blink a lash. Give her a knife in room full of guns
and trust that she’d get the job done, regardless of the bullets flying.
She was tough—tougher than most men Dante had working under him.
She was cartel born in a Cosa Nostra ruled world who taught herself how to
be the Queen. She stood at his side in business and pleasure, and he didn’t
give a flying shit what any man in the room thought about it. She earned her
place better than any of them ever had.
But … she was also a wife, mother, a woman, his lover, and his best
friend. She was soft as cotton under that sharp-as-glass exterior. There were
tears he wiped from her face that no one else would ever see. Protection,
connection, and love were the things she asked for and also provided.
Sometimes, it was just the simple act of his hand in hers that she needed
because she’d been raised in an environment where things like that were not
given freely, if at all.
In Dante’s world, in his home and to the Cosa Nostra family he ruled,
Catrina was his queen. And no matter what, she would always be. He would
make damn sure of that above all else. It was the least of what she deserved.
They were not good people; they didn’t pretend to be. They could be
ruthless and cruel; they were lawless and merciless.
That was just their life.
But goddamn it, he wouldn’t want to share it with any other woman.
Only his Cat.
“Love you,” Dante murmured into the crook of his wife’s neck.
“Love you,” she echoed.
Holding Catrina tighter, Dante kissed her neck and silently flipped over
the pregnancy test behind her back. At first glance, there was only one line
staring back up at him. Dante heaved a breath at the finality seeping
through his body and didn’t give the result anymore of his attention.
There was no sadness over the negative. No regrets over the testing and
procedures. No doubts about the choice to discontinue their efforts to have
another child. Having Michel was enough for them. Nothing changed that
fact. Nothing ever would.
Catrina hugged Dante’s middle tighter. “Negative?”
Dante plucked the test up, about to confirm his wife’s question, but
something stopped him. It was crazy faint—too weak to be seen in the
dimly lit bathroom with just the passing glance Dante had given the test at
first.
Dante’s arm wrapped around his wife’s shoulders tightened. He
distinctly remembered the doctors being very clear about the tests. It didn’t
matter how faint the line was, just that there was one visible to the naked
eye. Being faint simply meant there wasn’t a highly concentrated amount of
hormones in the urine but regardless, the test still picked a hint of the
hormones up.
It was still a positive.
Dante laughed. The sound started somewhere in his chest and rumbled
outwards. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
Catrina turned fast in his arms, her hands splaying out to the counter on
either side of the test when Dante set it back down.
“Look,” he ordered, excitement rolling thick. “Oh my God, Cat. Look at
that.”
Catrina’s breath caught. “There’s two.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my fucking God!”
Catrina repeated the words as she twisted back in Dante’s embrace and
kissed him hard. The joy sweeping through Dante’s veins was allconsuming. Next to falling in love with Catrina and then again falling hard
for Michel, nothing had ever felt quite so fucking amazing before.
“What I said about Michel still stands,” Dante murmured, holding his
wife’s face in his hands. “I meant that, Cat.”
“I know. It makes this even better. God, there’s so much I have to do.
The clinic will want me to call and make an appointment so they can
confirm it through blood—”
Dante shut her up with another kiss. “No.”
“No?”
“No,” he repeated firmly. “I’m sure you have a dozen more of those
goddamn tests hidden somewhere. Take another, but we both know what
it’ll say. For now, let’s just enjoy this, Cat. Privately without the doctors and
all their nonsense. Please just let us enjoy this together for as long as we
can, even if it’s only a few days.”
Catrina nodded jerkily, wetness glazing her eyes. “Okay.”
“No more lifting on Michel.”
“Got it.”
“Tell me if you’re tired or sick so I can let you rest or chill out.”
“I will.”
“And you’re going to hate me for it, but no business, Cat. It’s fucking
risky on a good day, but when you’re involved, the danger level increases
by a dozen.”
Catrina cocked a brow challengingly. “I’m pregnant, not disabled.”
Dante chuckled. She had no issue with his other demands, but talk about
removing her from his side running their crime family to keep her from
possibly being hurt, and she was willing to fight him tooth and nail. That
was his girl. Crazy as hell.
“Exactly,” Dante said softly. “You’re pregnant with my child, and we
both know this is the last chance we’re going to have to see this come to
fruition. Don’t be ridiculous. It isn’t safe. If I need to attach two bodyguards
to your ass to keep you away, I will do that. Do not push me on it, Amore. It
will happen.”
“You’re so fucking pigheaded,” she replied, pouting.
“So fucking in love with you, you mean.”
Catrina grinned. “Well, that too.”
“Keep it just between us for now, right?” Dante asked.
“Just between us.” Catrina’s nose scrunched. “Well, no … I have to call
your mother. She would positively die if I didn’t tell her the very moment
after we knew.”
Dante laughed. It had taken a little time, but once Cecelia realized how
happy and content Catrina truly made Dante, she accepted her third
daughter-in-law into the family fold. Dante was grateful and he knew
Catrina was pleased his mother had finally given her the respect she was
owed and love she deserved.
“Yeah, you better call Ma.”
•••
“What’s got you so happy?” Gio asked when Dante finally returned to
the outside.
Apparently keeping his excitement under wraps was not going to be as
easy as he first thought. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You look like someone just dosed you with happy pills or
something.”
“It’s a good day for me, Gio. That’s all.”
Michel ran up to his father, hands slapping down on both of Dante’s
knees. Leaning down, Dante kissed his son on the forehead before sending
him off again to play with Lucian and Johnathan.
“Make sure that bat doesn’t hit my kid,” Dante warned.
Lucian didn’t respond, simply flipped his brother the bird and went back
to the kids
Dante didn’t even care. Gio picked up on that right away.
“Seriously, what the fuck is up?”
“Nothing, I said. So hey, you’re really done having kids?”
The best way to get Gio off a topic was to distract him with something
else. Especially if that something else meant someone was questioning his
choices.
“Seems early to be making big decisions like that,” Dante added.
Gio scowled. “Considering there was a needle and knife to my balls to
make sure it wasn’t going to happen again, yeah, I’m done.”
Dante cringed. “Ouch.”
“One of the perks you don’t have to worry about, man.”
Well, maybe not. Dante didn’t correct his younger brother.
“Kim was really okay with it?”
“Kim hated being pregnant. It wasn’t easy on her. She was sick from the
day she found out to five minutes before Andino was born. Add in she
could barely do anything because of the constant sickness, then the
postpartum hemorrhage, and the depression from feeling like she failed
somehow, she didn’t want to do it again. I didn’t want my wife unhappy,
and my son is more than enough.”
“I get that,” Dante said, passing a glance towards his own son out on the
lawn.
“Besides, I was thinking about stuff.”
“And?”
Gio shrugged. “And maybe I want to go back to school in a few months
and get a start on finishing my law degree. After all, Paulie isn’t getting any
younger and he’s been ready to retire from being consigliere ever since Dad
stepped down. Things are slow for me right now, and I have guys handling
my shit all over the city because it’s becoming dull. Who are you going to
choose to give that position to, huh?”
“Still focusing on criminal defense, little brother?”
“Of course,” Gio replied with a smirk. “God knows someday one of us
is going to need it.”
“Dad never did.”
“Dad isn’t us.”
Dante exhaled heavily. “Truth.”
“Kim wants me off the streets, too.”
“Makes sense,” Dante said quietly. “You’ve been doing it for years.
Time for something new. I wouldn’t mind you as my right-hand now that
you’ve got your shit together.”
Gio tossed his brother a look, still wearing his smug grin. “Do you think
Dad always had it planned out this way? Like all three of us would end up
running the family?”
“I have no fucking doubt about it.”
“He told me once he gave his life to Cosa Nostra.”
“What’s your life?”
“Andino.”
Dante nodded. “And we are his entire life, Gio.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Ready, piccolo?”
“Ready!”
Dante looked up to see Lucian holding a ball and standing just a few
short feet away from Johnathan who was holding the miniature wooden bat.
Ten feet back, Michel sat on the grass, waiting as patiently as he could for
his turn.
Dante wasn’t entirely sure Lucian’s closeness was a good plan after the
ball was tossed. After all, Johnathan’s bat was just about the right height to
send the ball to connect with his father’s groin.
“Ah, Lucian, I don’t think that’s a smart—”
Gio shook his head beside his brother, stopping the warning. “Let it go,
Dante. I live for shit like this. Plus, if he’s stupid enough to do it, let him
suffer while we laugh at his expense.”
And that right there was why the kids loved Gio.
Sure enough, Johnathan hit the ball, sending it flying directly at his
father. Luckily for Lucian, he saw the ball coming and managed to dodge
the worst of it, but it smacked his inner thigh pretty damn close to the
special spot.
Both Gio and Dante roared with laughter, waking up Andino still
snuggled into his father’s chest in the process.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Lucian shouted.
Johnathan dropped the bat. “That’s bad word.”
A tiny fat hand popped out palm up.
“What in the hell is he doing?” Dante asked.
Gio chuckled, but didn’t answer.
“That’s bad word, Papà,” Johnathan repeated, hand still out and
waiting. “Gives one, now.”
“Johnathan Antony, I told you—”
“Gives one now, Papà.”
Gio’s chuckles became louder as he tried to hold the laughter back and
failed miserably. Dante was so damned confused but amused at the same
time, he didn’t know what was going on. Chances were, it had something to
do with Gio.
“Mamma!”
“Fine,” Lucian snapped. His own hand disappeared into his pocket,
pulling out what looked to be a piece of candy wrapped in shiny paper. He
handed it over to his son which quieted the child’s blackmail instantly.
“Here, take it and go.”
Gio laughed louder. “God, that’s fucking golden. Some of my best work
right there.”
Finally, Dante understood, his own laughter shaking his body. “You’re
so awful, Gio.”
“I know, I know. But it’s awesome, right?”
Lucian stalked across the lawn, glaring at his youngest bother all the
while. “I hate you for teaching him that.”
“No, you don’t,” Gio replied. “You just pretend like you hate it.”
“How often do you cuss in front of him?” Dante asked Lucian.
“Obviously too often. Gio couldn’t teach him something useful, like a
fucking swear jar or something. No, it had to be candy.”
Johnathan’s constant energy suddenly make a hell of a lot more sense.
“You think so low of me, Lucian. Pretty soon I’m going to teach him
why money is more valuable than candy,” Gio informed like it was nothing.
“Jordyn’s going to need a break, anyway. That’s what you get when you
choose me for a Godparent. Should have thought that one through a little
better.”
Lucian glowered. “Still fucking hate you.”
“Like I said, no you don’t.”
Gio stood, spreading out a blanket to the grass and setting a now awake
Andino down. The baby blinked up at the world surrounding him, tiny arms
waving and legs kicking. Gio patted the baby’s belly before coming to sit
back down with his brothers.
For a long while, Dante watched the three boys out on his back lawn
and he realized something. The age order of the brothers’ sons followed the
same pattern as their fathers’ birth order. Lucian had the oldest, Dante had
the second oldest and Gio had the baby. What were the odds of that?
Of course, there were still two more births to come over the next year,
maybe more if Lucian and Jordyn continued growing their litter of kids.
Strangely, Dante felt some sort of finality that these would be the only boys.
“You know Michel will never be able to join la famiglia,” Gio said
quietly, side-eyeing Dante.
“I’m aware.”
The rules for La Cosa Nostra were clear. The man had to be at least half
Italian and it needed to come from his father’s side. Michel’s full bloodline
was unknown, and while they could safely assume he was full Sicilian,
someone could try and dispute it. Dante wouldn’t have his son being looked
down upon because of his blood.
“And I really don’t care,” Dante added, chuckling. “One less thing for
me to concern myself with over him as he gets older.”
“What about Cat?” Lucian asked, cocking a brow. “She might be
slowing down a little, but she’s still got a team of people working under her.
She’s always going to be a Queen Pin, Dante. Michel might follow after
her. Think about it.”
Dante didn’t have to. “I guess he’ll have one hell of a teacher, then. I
wish him luck, and I’m glad it’s not me.”
Gio laughed. “Yeah, considering how particular she is, me, too.”
“I got an interesting call this morning,” Dante informed his brothers.
Both men glanced over at him, waiting for him to continue.
“Something about Chicago,” Dante said.
“What about it?” Gio asked.
“Apparently the ground for our syndicate there is … shaky.”
“Terrance Trentini, you mean,” Lucian said.
“Yep.” Dante sighed, kicking out his boots and crossing his ankles.
“Feelers were being put out to the Commission. Get what I’m saying?”
Lucian coughed, hiding his surprise. “Seriously?”
“I guess so. That boss is a few steps away from meeting his maker,
man.”
“Shit,” Gio muttered.
“Who put out the feeler?” Lucian asked.
Dante shook his head. “Not important and not our business. We could
do with a new leader for the Chicago syndicate, anyway. Terrance has
worked enough of our nerves. I had no issue with sending an affirmative
back on my end for the hit.”
“What about the other members of the Commission?” Gio asked.
“Wait and see,” Dante replied. “And while we’re waiting, stay the fuck
out of it. Especially if it does go down. Just because I give an affirmative on
a boss’s death doesn’t mean I want to be involved with a war in Chicago.”
Gio’s brow furrowed. “Why would there be a war?”
“His only son is unmade, his grandson is a major fuck-up, and nobody
knows who’ll take the open seat. Half of the men will want someone they
can manipulate to fill it while the other half will want a man who can be the
manipulator. You know what that means.”
“Blood,” Lucian answered.
“Not ours, though,” Dante said.
Gio nodded, resting back in his chair. “Yeah, we got it.”
“What are we supposed to teach them, huh?” Dante asked, not directing
his question to either of his brothers in particular. He stared out at the kids
on the grass, even little Andino still kicking his legs and waving his arms.
“Who, the boys?” Lucian asked.
“Yeah.”
“About what?”
“Life, I guess.”
“Same thing Dad taught us,” Lucian replied, glancing to his brothers.
“Have honor,” Gio said.
“Love fiercely,” Lucian added.
Dante smiled. “Be filthy.”
Epilogue
“You are such an asshole, Michel!”
“Watch your mouth,” Catrina said as the car came to stop.
“Leave my shit alone, Catherine. I won’t tell you again.”
“Slow the fuck down, Michel,” Dante shouted after his nearly
seventeen-year-old son. “Cazzo, you’re working on the last nerve I have
left, son.”
The words weren’t even completely out of his mouth before the SUV
door slammed shut, drowning out Dante’s warning. Glaring into the
backseat where his teenaged son had vacated with all the attitude that kid
could muster, Dante sighed harshly.
“Give him a break, bello,” Catrina said, unbuckling her seat belt. “I
think he’s having a rough time with all of this.”
“Can I get out?” Catherine asked, her years of learned sarcasm oozing
all too sweetly. “Or does someone feel like yelling at me, too?”
Dante’s frustration climbed a notch as he regarded his thirteen-year-old
daughter. Teenagers were the worst invention mankind ever created. Or
God, whatever. There was no satisfying those little monsters. Rudeness and
insolence were commonplace daily. The constant defiance was a battle
Dante had yet to win.
He was mob boss, for Christ’s sake, controlling hundreds of men, yet he
couldn’t manage to calm the hell his children were.
God knew Dante loved his son and daughter. Oh, he adored them.
Catherine and Michel were his pride and joy. Everything he had that was
good inside his soul was put into those children. They wanted for nothing,
which may have been part of the problem, and their parents doted on them
every single day of their lives.
They were a true principe and principessa.
But that didn’t mean he had to like them all of the fucking time.
“Catherine Cecelia …” Dante warned, giving his daughter a look he
hoped voiced his displeasure of her disrespect loud and clear.
“Yes, Daddy?”
Sweet as sugar, Catherine smiled like an angel. She looked stunningly
like her mother but with his green eyes and dark hair. Dante knew better
than to fall into his daughter’s seemingly innocent trap. She was her mother
through and through. Catrina couldn’t deny that girl if she tried. Spit from
her mouth, that’s what Catherine was. Dante felt awful for whatever sorry
fucker fell in love with his daughter.
May God save that poor man’s soul because Dante sure as hell
wouldn’t. As long as he was a good man, Dante planned on willingly
handing Catherine over.
“Daddy?” Catherine asked again.
“Get out of the damn vehicle, Catherine,” Cat snapped, rubbing circles
into her forehead.
Catherine did as she was told. No matter how angry the girl made her
father, she was never frightened of him. Her mother, however, was an
entirely different story. Catherine and Catrina were too alike for their own
good.
Once the door slammed shut, Catrina huffed in the passenger seat.
“They’re turning me gray.”
Dante scoffed, eyeing his wife from the side. “You’re just as red as you
always were.”
“Thanks to my monthly trip to the salon. Why did we agree to have a
child after Michel?”
“You love her.”
Just like he did.
“Maybe so, but I don’t have to like her a whole lot.”
“If you two weren’t so damn alike, you might not butt heads as often.”
“I doubt it. When does this nonsense end?” his wife asked quietly, her
beautiful features pained.
“According to my mother, never.”
Catrina gasped in mock horror. “No.”
“Sorry, kitten. You asked.”
“Can we lock them in their rooms until they turn eighteen and then kick
them out into the wild like other animals do with their young?”
Dante chuckled. “Social Services says no.”
Despite his wife’s agitation with their daughter, Dante knew Catrina
loved Catherine with every fiber of her being. From the moment their
daughter took her first breath, Catrina was smitten. Catrina had taught
Catherine the same independence, fierceness, and confidence she had from
the moment the girl learned to talk and walk. It was only the last couple of
years that a distance had been put between the two and a wall kept getting
built higher and higher.
Dante understood exactly why it was happening, even if Catrina didn’t
like to talk about it. His wife hadn’t been in the business for a long time—
not her own in a direct manner, anyway. Sure, she still stood at Dante’s side
in the Marcello crime family, but Catrina had long since passed on her
crown in her trade to someone else.
Really, he was grateful she had. Over the years, Catrina had gained
more enemies in her business than she had friends. People seemed
trustworthy and friendly enough until they wanted to become competition.
Catrina never stood for competition. She was still Queen, though. Behind
the scenes, running women she trained and groomed to be beautiful ghosts
in the market like she had once been.
Nevertheless, Catherine was curious. Hiding who you were to your
children when they had every access to your past with just a click of a
button on their phones was an impossible task. Dante didn’t hide things
from his children, he never had, but he expected them to understand their
place, too. Sometimes that meant pretending you didn’t know a thing.
No, it wasn’t Catherine building those walls and putting distance
between her and her mother. It was Catrina. Because if she couldn’t curb
her daughter’s curiosity in their business, her next best effort was to close
off the very idea completely. Unfortunately, that meant closing off herself to
her daughter, as well. Whether she liked it or not, Catrina would always be
Queen. Maybe a different kind, but still a queen.
In a way, Dante knew his wife was protecting Catherine from something
she didn’t want her daughter involved in. Sometimes, their lifestyle just
didn’t give them a choice.
“She’s been texting with a Donati boy, hmm,” Dante said, tilting his
head to the side so he could gauge his wife’s reaction to his news.
Catrina’s brow lifted. “Oh?”
“They go to the same school. His family is solid, though. I’d rather a
Donati than a Calabrese.”
Catrina’s lips drew thin. “Would you, now?”
“Not for business sake, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It was.”
Yeah, Dante figured.
“Have you talked to her about it?” Catrina asked quietly.
“I have.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I approve and that’s what matters most.”
“Not to me,” Catrina murmured. “How old is he?”
“Just turned fourteen last month.”
“Too soon to say, then.”
“Too soon to say what, Cat?”
“Cosa Nostra.”
Ah.
Dante blew out a heavy breath of air. “We were lucky with Michel,
bella.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do. Not really. We were so lucky with him, Cat. He
had no interest in being even affiliated with la famiglia, never mind your
end of the business, he wants to be a doctor, and he’s a damn good kid.
Focused, driven, and sure.”
“Mmm.”
“Catherine isn’t Michel and you can’t force her to be.”
“I don’t want her being like me.”
“Are you sure?” Dante asked quickly. “Because you sure treated her like
a reginella. That girl is you all over and you just can’t stand it.”
“It isn’t that. It scares me. I worry.”
“You’re hurting her with this distance and her behavior is showing it
more and more. That bitchy attitude and nastiness isn’t the daughter we
raised, Cat.”
Catrina frowned, sadness coloring her hazel eyes. “Regardless of what it
may look like, there is nothing glamorous about being a Queen Pin, Dante.
She’s only thirteen, and I refuse to feed into this ridiculous fascination she
has with the things I do.”
“Then maybe you should have hidden it better as she grew up, Catrina.
Frankly, she’s a teenager—the daughter of a mob boss and a Queen Pin,
sure—and like any girl her age, the more you deny and shut down her
interests, the more likely she is to seek it out on her own. That could be
dangerous and you know it. Is that how you want her wading in to this kind
of thing, by mistake and stupidity?”
“What am I supposed to do? What do you suggest, huh?”
Dante wasn’t sure. But what Catrina was doing in regards to Catherine
sure as hell wasn’t working. “It’s hurting you, too, Cat. I don’t like it when
you hurt.”
Catrina smiled, but her sadness still remained. “You’re right, bello. I
hate it so very much when you’re right.”
Dante laughed, reaching over to snag his wife’s hand with his own.
“I’ve been telling you for years if you would just admit that fact more often,
things would be so much easier. But what am I right about this time?”
“She’s just like me, I think, but in a different way.”
“It’ll work itself out, Cat. Maybe her fascination is more about where
she comes from than where she wants to go.”
“I hope so.” Catrina squeezed Dante’s fingers. “I suppose I should get a
start on that red wine we brought. It’s going to be a long dinner if the car
ride here and this conversation was any indication.”
“Fucking teenagers driving us to drink.”
Catrina smirked. “We made them this way, you know.”
“Stop reminding me.”
“Tomorrow is going to be—”
Dante cringed. “Let’s not talk about it right now.”
Dio save me, Dante thought as his wife glowered at him from her seat.
He did not need Catrina pissed off at him right now, not considering
everything. Even so, he had desperately hoped they would be able to make
it through this damn day without at least one person bringing up his
sentencing hearing tomorrow.
Yeah, the boss got caught.
There was absolutely nothing clean about living the way of La Cosa
Nostra. There were no guarantees. Giovanni was right all those years ago
when he told Dante the brothers were not like their father. They wouldn’t
always come out of things unscathed.
A year earlier, Dante’s home had been raided by FBI agents under
circumstances that had nothing to do with what they found in his home. A
few illegal weapons, nothing serious. Misdemeanors at best. He should
have been hit with a few costly fines and maybe some probation to kill
time. It was just too damn bad this would be his fourth weapons charge over
the span of a decade. The court system didn’t look highly upon repeat
offenders, never mind a Cosa Nostra Don like Dante Marcello.
Not to mention, Dante might have knocked out an agent for rifling
through his wife’s underwear drawer. That nice little assault charge sneaked
right up on him.
Sick fucking bastard.
Dante was looking at four years max, and if given the highest penalty,
he would spend that time in a prison, not a fucking jail. He hadn’t pleaded
guilty to the charges, but he didn’t have to, either. The evidence against him
was right there for the world to see. Guilty as charged.
There was a good thing about being a Marcello, though. Money. They
had it in the bucketful, and for the last few months, Giovanni had been
doing his job as both Dante’s defense lawyer and his consigliere. Bribes
were on the line, but it wasn’t always a sure thing if a judge would take it or
not.
Fuck, they were right down to the wire—literally, given tomorrow was
the big day—and Dante’s judge had yet to take the bait in promise of a
reduced sentence.
“No more guns in our home,” Catrina said, drawing Dante from his
thoughts.
“I agree.”
He got out of the car without another word.
•••
“Give me that back, Cella!”
Dante moved out of the way just in time to miss the stampede of his
nieces running past him.
“No!” Cella flicked her middle finger up at her sister, holding the tablet
away from Lily’s reaching grasp.
Lucian glowered at the ceiling. “I should have stopped at John, man.”
Dante chuckled. “You love them.”
“Sometimes,” Lucian muttered under his breath.
Cella and Lily wrestled with the tablet, each wanting to play whatever
game was still flickering across the touchscreen.
“All right, give it to me right now,” Jordyn ordered her two oldest
daughters. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. Cella, if I see you doing that
to your sister one more time, I’m going to cut that goddamn finger off.”
At fifteen and thirteen, Lucian’s oldest girls were a handful. They were
beautiful things, to be sure. All Marcello girls were, but they were still
hellions all the same. It probably didn’t help a bit that Lucian turned to
putty when his daughters batted their lashes. They had him wrapped around
their pinkies.
“Daddy!”
Dante smiled when Lucian dropped into a squat at his youngest
daughter’s beck and call. With arms out, Lucia—named for her father—
climbed into his waiting embrace. Lucian stood, balancing his four-year-old
on his hip as the dinner guests made their way into the dining room.
“I can’t believe you had three girls,” Dante said, shaking his head.
“Me either,” his brother replied. “I’m done trying for the second boy. So
done. Clearly that fifty-fifty chance crap is all bullshit. That, or God has a
sick sense of fucking humor. He knows how possessive and protective I am,
and instead of giving me another son, I get three females to bust my balls
on a daily basis and keep me up at night worrying about them.”
“Bad words,” Lucia whispered, patting Lucian’s mouth with her palm.
“Sorry, dolcezza. Kisses for Daddy?”
Lucia kissed her father’s cheek before Lucian put her back to the floor.
Lucia immediately went running for her grandfather at the head of the
family table. Antony let his youngest, and likely last, grandchild climb up
on his lap to pick off the plate Cecelia had placed in front of her husband.
Lucian watched with a glimmer of pride in his eyes.
“You love them,” Dante repeated.
“Yeah, I do.”
Cecelia shouted for the remaining guests to come and take their seats
for dinner, but Lucian and Dante didn’t move from the far wall.
Dante watched as people flooded into the large dining room, taking
whatever chair was available. As usual, Johnathan and Andino were two of
the final ones to saunter in. Andino took a seat beside Giovanni, stealing a
piece of cheese bread off his father’s plate. Giovanni barked at his only son,
taking the cheese bread back. That caused Kim to reach over her son and
smack her husband’s hand in rebuttal.
Lucian’s smile faded into a frown at the sight of his seventeen-yearold’s cocky smirk as it landed on a pretty girl about his age across the table
from him. She was the daughter of one of the Marcello capos who was
always invited to the Sunday meal. Johnathan knew better than to mess with
daughters of made men, but he didn’t follow rules very well.
“Sweet Jesus, he’s just like Giovanni,” Lucian said, more to himself
than his brother. “And he came from me!”
“That isn’t a bad thing,” Dante responded. “Not if you consider how
Gio settled down after finding Kim.”
“Yeah, but how long is that going to take? Already he wants to be done
with school and onto things that don’t bore the fuck out of him.”
“His words?”
“They certainly weren’t mine.”
“Give him time,” Dante said.
“Your influence on him helps a great deal.”
Well, technically Johnathan was Dante’s heir to the Marcello throne.
There was no way in hell he would let that kid stumble through life.
“I’m grateful he has you when he won’t come to me,” Lucian admitted.
“But the things he sometimes does still scares the shit out of me. Jordyn,
too.”
“I know. Ready to eat?”
“Sure. You ready for tomorrow?”
Dante felt a weight press down on his shoulders. He repeated what he
told his wife in the car. “Let’s not talk about it right now.”
•••
“I just checked, they’re both asleep.” Catrina closed the bedroom door
behind her quietly. “Every light left on, all their electronics still running,
and they’re snoring in bed, dead to the world. A goddamn hurricane
wouldn’t wake them up.”
“Nothing new,” Dante noted.
“I like them better when they sleep. Less arguing.”
Dante had to agree. He would be so happy once these teenage years
were past for his two kids. No doubt when they did pass, he would wish for
them back.
“Don’t you think it’s funny how they won’t wake up for an alarm clock,
but if their phone even vibrates with a text, it’s like someone poured ice
water all over them?”
Dante laughed. “I was the same way.”
“I suppose I never had time to act much like a normal teenager.”
Something in the lilt of his wife’s tone caught Dante’s attention. When
he turned to face her, Catrina was already inside the walk-in closet and
busying herself with picking out clothes for the next day. Dante made his
way to the closet and leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms.
Catrina went from one garment bag to the next, unzipping the items to
peer inside each time. “Black suit for tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Dante answered. Catrina pulled out three suits, holding them out
for Dante to inspect. “The third, I think.”
Catrina tossed the item over the top of a leather covered stool and
replaced the others back in place. “Black shirt underneath, too, hmm?”
“No, let’s go with white.”
A white dress shirt was pulled from a hanger and laid over the suit.
Catrina pulled open a dresser drawer, exposing rows of silk ties inside.
“White tie?”
“No, a black one.”
Dante wasn’t going for a wedding look. Apparently his wife went in the
opposite direction.
“Are you trying to look like you’re going to a funeral?” Catrina asked.
Maybe tomorrow would be like a funeral; who knew? Dante sure felt an
impending sense of doom about what was yet to come the next day. Dante
trusted those around him, and at the same time, he worried for those closest
to him like his wife and children. The past year had not been easy on them.
Tomorrow was the last piece of the puzzle. It would determine the next four
years of his life and theirs.
Honestly, it was the exact reason why Dante had fought against
marriage and love for as long as he had. His family was suffering for his
choices because of Cosa Nostra, and he didn’t like that at all.
“You’re the one who gave me the choice of a black shirt underneath,”
Dante replied. “What’s the difference?”
“All black is like making a statement. When you start mixing black with
white, it doesn’t.”
“Fine, a navy shirt and a black tie.”
Catrina grinned. “Much better.”
“Are you okay?” Dante asked.
His wife didn’t even turn around as she said, “Perfect, bello.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Catrina pulled a black tie from the
drawer before grabbing a matching shirt off a hanger. She replaced the
white shirt with the rest, grabbed Dante’s clothes, and hung it all off a hook
on the wall. She did it all like it was business as usual and tomorrow was
not the possible major overhaul it could be in their lives. “I know you
wanted me here with the kids since we’re keeping them from school
tomorrow, but I want to go with you, Dante.”
If Dante was a stupid man and he didn’t know his wife as well as he did,
he would have argued with her to stay home. Catrina wasn’t the kind of
woman to be told what she could or couldn’t do, so he chose to let her do
what she wanted.
“No comment, always,” Dante said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“No, listen. No matter what, Cat, it’s always no comment.”
“I said I know,” she said quietly. “Have you heard anything from
Giovanni about the deals he put out?”
“Not a thing.”
Dante tried to keep his tone calm and the anxiety out of it. It wasn’t like
Catrina to ask about the more private accesses of Dante’s business,
especially concerning this sort of thing. For him, it was a huge sign of her
worry, even if she wasn’t outright voicing it.
“I’ll call him later. But you know the rules, no business on Sundays,” he
added, humor coloring his words.
Catrina turned on her heel, lifting a single brow in a way that felt like
she was scolding him. “I sincerely hope you’re not making a joke of this.”
Guilt ate at Dante. “I’m sorry, Cat, I was only trying to ward off
whatever nonsense you’ve got going on in your head right now.”
“You’re my husband, Dante.”
“Well, for the last sixteen years, yes.”
“And for the next fifty, or so,” Catrina responded, smiling.
“I don’t know if my Italian genes are going to let me live that long.”
“Sex is good for the heart, and we have lots of that.”
Dante couldn’t have held back his laughter if he tried. It felt damn good
to laugh and honestly enjoy it. Once he sobered, he eyed his wife curiously.
Catrina was grinning like a kitten who had eaten the cream. “Who’s making
light of this now, Amore?”
“It’s different when I do it, you know.”
“How so?”
“Because we’re always serious and you never hide things from me. I
know you’re hiding how you feel, so instead of being sharp like I usually
would, I did something out of character.”
“You make me laugh,” Dante argued.
“Mostly when I’m not very nice to other people.”
Dante considered that for a moment. Catrina still hated women unless
they were family. She was still his best friend with very few of her own.
“All right, true enough. And yes, I’m worried, but it’s too late to do much
about it. Everything that could be done has been, believe me.”
“You can’t leave me here alone, Dante,” Catrina said, pointing at him
with the same attitude as she always sported. “Two or three months is one
thing, but four years is something entirely different. You just … you can’t
leave me here without you for that long. I said so.”
If Dante didn’t know how much his wife was hurting on the inside, even
if she wasn’t showing it on the outside, he would have been amused by her
indignant order. Catrina also wouldn’t want him to make a big deal out of
her concerns because, like him, the image she gave off was her strongest
defense next to her take-no-bullshit personality.
This was how they had always been together. Neither liked for one to
see them in any state that might hurt the other. Even when they were alone
in the privacy of their own home, the couple never broke those unspoken
rules. Well, most times. There were moments in their life when it couldn’t
be helped and really, those were the moments Dante cherished the most
between him and his wife.
Because Catrina was strong—relentlessly so. But when she wasn’t, he
was the only person she needed. Kind of like now.
Catrina went back to surveying the garment bags on her side of the
closet in silence. She picked a navy blue silk dress that would fall just
below her knees to match her husband’s shirt. The dress was hung up with
the rest of the clothing for tomorrow before Catrina pressed a button on the
wall and rows of shoes slid out from the wall.
“I don’t need your input for this,” Catrina said, plucking up a pair of
black Italian leather shoes for Dante. She knew his tastes well. “For me,
however … What do you think, heels or flats?”
“Heels, of course.”
Catrina shot him with a look. “Why?”
Because even in her forties, Catrina still sported the best goddamn legs
he had ever seen. When she wore a pair of heels, she just about killed any
control he had left. Just like the ones she was wearing right now.
“Just because,” Dante said huskily.
“Might give you something to look at while they’re hauling you away,
huh?”
Dante felt his entire body slump into the wall. “Cat …”
Catrina walked the shoes she’d chosen over to the stool and set both
pairs down side by side. She wouldn’t look at him, and instead, kept her
gaze zoned in on the leather stool. “You can’t leave me here alone. Not for
that long.”
Dante crossed the few feet of space between him and his wife in a blink
and two long strides. He caught her hands in his own, pushing her back
across the walk-in closet until her shoulders met the ceiling-high mirror.
She gasped sharply when he kissed her painfully hard, drawing her bottom
lip between his teeth to bite down. Dante didn’t speak his wants, he simply
took from his wife because that was exactly how Catrina liked it. Her dress
pooled to the floor with his pants, heels dug into his thighs when he lifted
her against the mirror …
And then she begged him to stay.
•••
“Fucking teenagers,” Dante growled, stumbling over a pair of pink
Nikes in the middle of his kitchen floor. “They leave shit everywhere!”
Antony laughed on the other end of the phone. “How often do you say
that in a day?”
“More than I want to admit.” Dante kicked the fucking shoes under the
table so they wouldn’t be in the way. “They’re worse than toddlers, Dad.”
“Mmm, I know. I had three of my own, remember.”
“We weren’t that bad,” Lucian said on his side of the call.
“Well, I was,” Gio mumbled, still half-asleep.
“You were,” Antony agreed with his youngest.
Dante laughed quietly. His worry had led him to call his father, who had
three-way called Lucian, who had then added Gio to the conversation to see
if any new information had come in over the last few hours. None had.
“It could be worse,” Lucian said.
“Oh, how?” Dante asked.
“You could be wondering where your son is tonight.”
The line fell silent.
“Give him time,” Antony finally said after a good thirty seconds.
“Johnathan will come out of this difficult stage eventually. He’s just making
his own path, son.”
“My bet is he’s with that cute brunette he met at dinner,” Gio said
quietly.
“She’s connected,” Lucian said heatedly. “And he isn’t made, so it isn’t
like he’s got a badge of fucking protection keeping his ass from getting shot
because he wants to get his dick wet.”
“I could give him his button,” Dante suggested.
“Over my dead body. When I say he’s earned it, he can have it. He’s got
some fucking growing up to do yet.”
“Let him graduate first,” Antony put in.
Lucian huffed. “I don’t get it. How did my kid turn out to be such a
defiant little … Anyway, how, when Gio’s kid is practically a fucking
angel?”
Gio laughed. “My son is not an angel. Believe me. Andino just knows
better than to hide shit from me or lie. Besides, there’s nothing he could do
that I haven’t already done a dozen times over. I know when my kid is up to
something, and he knows what I expect from him.”
“And I thought Gio would be the lax one on rules and discipline,”
Antony noted more to himself than his sons.
“I didn’t say he had rules,” Gio replied. “I said I had expectations he
knows to follow without me telling him to.”
A door opened on the end of one of the other calls, but Dante wasn’t
sure whose. Gio’s next words explained it. “Get up, Andino.”
“Dio, what the fuck, Papà? Stop throwing shit on me.”
“Watch that mouth of yours, stolto. Get up, I said.”
“Why? It’s like … two in the morning!”
“We’re going out. John, you know.”
“Gio, you don’t have to—” Lucian’s words were cut off by his youngest
brother’s dismissive grunt.
“Too late, I woke the kid up and left Kim in bed alone so I guess you
can owe me. Besides, you know Andino. Ride or die with John, right?
Maybe I’ll let him knock some sense into the kid tonight when we find
him.”
Gio said his goodbye, promised to meet up with Dante bright and early,
and then hung up his end of the call. Lucian was quick to say his goodbye
shortly after, as well. It was only Antony and Dante left, then.
“History repeating,” Antony murmured. “I can’t count the amount of
times one of you boys kept me up like that. Hell, you’re still keeping me up
worrying, Dante.”
Dante smiled even though his father couldn’t see it. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“What if—”
“Let’s not start playing those hypothetical games, Dante,” Antony
interrupted gently. “I know what you’re thinking, and I know why you
called me, son.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and if after all this time, you still haven’t figured it out, you
probably never will. You’re not like me, Dante. You won’t ever be. It
doesn’t matter how careful you are, nothing is a guarantee for your freedom
in this life. You chose it, now you handle it. With me, they tried hard. You
were ten the first time they tried to put me in for five to fifteen. I got a little
smarter each time.”
“But you never spent any time behind bars, Dad.”
“Lucky,” Antony replied, like it should have been obvious. “Your time
totals up to a few months, Lucian’s got a year and a half under his belt,
much to Jordyn’s dismay.”
“Gio is the only one who hasn’t done any time of us three and that’s the
biggest surprise of it all.”
“Not really. Gio’s got a lot of my luck keeping his head above water. He
always did. Good thing, otherwise he would have been dead years ago.”
“Sprinkle some of that fucking fairy dust on me, huh?”
Antony chuckled. “Trust your lawyer, son. I always did.”
“My lawyer is Gio.”
“Hey, I didn’t raise any fucking idiots.”
•••
Two days later …
Mob Boss Walks Away From Charges with Probation, the headline read.
“Dante Antony Marcello, the alleged Cosa Nostra Don of the longreigning Marcello crime family has again walked away unscathed on
another round of charges.”
Dante scoffed. “Unscathed, right. Two years of probation isn’t totally
unscathed.”
“Stop with your complaining,” Catrina ordered, reaching over to smack
Dante’s shoulder from where she stood. “Volunteer at a goddamn animal
shelter or something. You like cats.”
“I hate cats.”
“You like dogs.”
“I hate dogs.”
“Shut up, Dante. You’re working my last nerve.”
Not wanting to piss his wife off and send Catrina into one of her tirades,
Dante sipped from his hot coffee. His son and daughter milled around the
kitchen, listening to their mother read the morning paper while they readied
for school. Thankfully, his kids were too interested in the news article to be
arguing back and forth with one another. Dante’s story was front page, as it
usually was when something went down publicly in the Marcello family.
Catrina continued to read. “The prosecution cites Dante Marcello’s
previous arrests and convictions as reasons for why the purported Don
should have been looking at actual time behind bars. The judge on the case
declined to comment. When the man of the hour left the courthouse, he
remained silent as the hoard of media gathered waiting for a statement.”
Dante sighed, glancing up at the ceiling. “His wife, on the other hand
…”
Catrina grinned wickedly. “I said no comment, Dante, just like you told
me to.”
“And gave them the finger at the same time!”
Catherine and Michel snickered from where they now sat on the edge of
the counter.
“Is there a picture of that, Ma?” Michel asked.
“No,” Catrina replied, tossing the paper to the table. “Too bad, I might
have liked to keep it.”
“Don’t rule it out, yet,” Dante muttered.
“I guess uncle Gio got that bribe through, huh?” Catherine asked.
Dante caught his wife’s gaze at their daughter’s question, his words
from days ago being silently said again. Neither he nor Cat had mentioned
to Catherine a thing about Giovanni paying anyone off to get Dante a
lighter sentence. It was yet another hint as to their daughter’s observation
skills and interest in their business.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Catrina replied, giving her
daughter a smile that was anything but innocent.
“Sure, Ma.” Catherine jumped down from the counter, plucking her
messenger bag up from the floor. She waved at the forgotten newspaper in
the middle of the table. “You should clip that and hang it on the fridge or
something.”
“Catherine, I don’t need to be reminded of this every damned day,”
Dante said, shaking his head. “It can be thrown out.”
“But we’re Marcellos, Papà.”
“So?”
“We might as well own it.”
About the Author
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three
very young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada
where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With
her boys under her feet, a snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a spouse calling
over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something ... when she can
find the time.
Find her on www.bethanykris.com, Facebook, her blog, or Twitter @BethanyKris.
Sign up to Bethany-Kris’s New Release Newsletter email list to receive
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Acknowledgments
I owe so many people so many thanks, hugs, and love for their work,
time, and effort with this series. Elle, Dixie, Tracy, you know I love and
adore you. And thank you for loving and adoring me, too.
To my readers, you have my sincerest, most heartfelt gratitude and
always—always—my love for making these stories what they are when you
read them. I put them down to paper, but your enjoyment makes them come
alive for me. That means more than you know.
To the real Filthy man who inspired these brothers—Lucky, I hope
you’re resting well up there.
Finally, to my hubby and sons who listened to me key these stories out,
went without me for dinners, drives, and family time just so I could get
these brothers out of my head. Thank you. And I love you for being a
constant and unwavering support for me, D.
Be Filthy,
—Kris
Other Books by this Author
The Russian Guns Series
A Russian mob boss and his Italian mafia princess made Russian queen
battle through threats, death, betrayal, and life to keep their indomitable,
merciless crime family and their love alive. Through it all, they hold tight to
the one thing they need the most—each other. But how do you survive
hurting the one person you love with your entire soul just to save them?
The Arrangement, Book One
The Life, Book Two
The Score, Book Three
Demyan & Ana: A Russian Guns Novella, Book Four (Standalone)
Shattered: A Russian Guns Novel, Book Five (Standalone)
For more information, visit Bethany-Kris’s website at
www.bethanykris.com.
Coming Soon
The Chicago War
A Filthy Marcellos Spinoff
Deathless & Divided (Book One)
Reckless & Ruined (Book Two)
Scarless & Sacred (Book Three)
Breathless & Bloodstained (Book Four)
Copyright © 2015 by Bethany-Kris. All rights reserved.
WARNING: The unauthorized distribution or reproduction of this
copyrighted work is illegal. No parts of this work may be used, reproduced,
or printed without expressed written consent by the author/publisher.
Exceptions are made for small excerpts used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-0-9937797-5-6
Cover Art © AS photo
Editor: Elle Leigh
This is work of fiction. Characters, names, places, corporations,
organizations, institutions, locales, and so forth are all the product of the
author’s imagination, or if real, used fictitiously. Any resemblance to a
person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.