Page 70

“He’s Victor Greivan. He’s part of the family that’s been threatening your life,” Dante says. “He might not have threatened your life, but no one gets away with talking that shit about my boy.”

My face flushes and my stomach feels just as warm and tingly as it seems to always feel around him. “He’s one of them?” I ask rhetorically. Dante nods, a dark and possessive look in his eyes.

“It scared me,” I admit. “I’m not scared ofyou, but it was a lot. I don’t understand the violence on either side, but especially from you. It seemed like you enjoyed it a little bit.” I shove my hands into my pockets and look away from him.

“I did,” he admits. “I hate it and I love it all at the same damn time. It’s just how I am, how I’ve always been. I don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it, but…sometimes I want to.”

Dante’s words should make me feel even more unnerved, but I find that his honesty makes me feel more at ease.

“Seeing you defend me against Victor was frightening, but there was also a part of me that liked it,” I admit. “I liked seeing you get so worked up over someone shit-talking me.”

I feel Dante move closer, and then his fingers touch my chin and force me to look up at him.

“Look at me,” he demands, and his eyes catch mine, luring me in with ease. I don’t dare look away from him. “You don’t gotta feel guilty about that, about anything. Not with me.”

I bite my lip briefly. “I know, I just don’t know how. I don’t understand the intensity of all of this. I don’t understand you or your family,” I say. “But I want to.”

Dante slides his fingers from my chin to my jawline and leans in closer. “You’re unlike any man I’ve ever met, Ethan.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s you,” I whisper.

I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he pulls away and lets go of my face. A deep sense of disappointment blossoms in my chest. Dante just looks at me, and I can see pain in his eyes. It feels just like that morning when I asked him about his mother.

I reach out for him and take his hand, leading him through my small apartment and to my bedroom without another word. It’s more comfortable in my room than in the living room, and I feel safe here. I hope Dante will, too.

“Come sit down,” I tell him, my voice soft as I move onto my bed and sit near the pillows with my legs crossed.

Dante’s eyes shift along the bed for a moment, and I sense his hesitation. I don’t say it again. I just wait until he finally sits down on the edge of the bed, turned halfway to look at me.

“Tell me about your mom?” I ask him.

His gaze moves away from me and to the wall behind the bed. “It’s nothing that can be changed. Just buried history.”

I frown. “Unbury it. I can’t change it, but I can hold it with you.”

“What if I don’t want you to hold it?” he asks.

“Too bad. You picked me to get obsessed with, and I care about you, Dante. It’s alright if you’re not ready, but you have to let me in at some point.”

It’s quiet for another moment. I don’t push or press. I’m prepared for him to not say anything else on the matter.

“Caroline. My mother. She died when I was a child,” he tells me. He’s not looking at me, though. I don’t speak, just listen. “I was always a lot closer to her than Marco, but she did her best for both of us. She was there for us more than Father was, that’s for fucking sure. She was just as cunning and manipulative as him, maybe more. We always said she was the real head of the family.”

Dante chuckles weakly and shakes his head. “Unlike Father, she thought almost everyone in rival families were innocent. She put all the blame on the heads and wanted to spill as little blood as possible.”

I scoot closer to Dante. I can hear his voice thickening with emotion. It makes my own chest squeeze.

“A plan was set up to bring down a rival. Father decided we’d do anythin’ to get it done. Didn’t matter who lived or died. He didn’t need any living members of that family, just needed them gone so we could move in on their turf and take over. Actually, it’d be easier if they were all gone.” His hands ball into fists. “They were a messy gang. Causin’ more trouble than anyone else. Killed for no reason but fun sometimes.”

I swallow a lump in my throat, not liking where this is going. I place a hand on the back of his shoulder, and feel just how tight his muscles are.

“In the middle of all of it, Mama decided to try to save one of the kids—the youngest, a little girl. Father knew about her but wasn’t interested in getting any of the kids out alive. To him, if they got in the way, they got in the way.” His voice grows more strained. Dante turns his face away from me, and I use my other hand to touch his cheek and turn it toward me again.

“Don’t hide from me,” I whisper. “Let me see you.”

Dante growls under his breath. “Mama, she…went against his orders. She tried to get her out,” he tells me, his voice shaky as several tears drip down his face. My own lips tremble as I brush his tears away with my thumb. “Father…that son of a bitch, he decided she’d made her choice, that she knew the risks. He wouldn’t call it off. She got caught in the fucking cross fire. I was there. I’ll never forget it. I heard that she’d just run in to save that little girl, and that they weren’t going to stop. They were just going to take down whoever they had to. We took her to the hospital, but it was too late. There was so much blood.” His words become mangled by his tears, and I wrap my arms around him.

“I’m so sorry, Dante,” I whisper as I press my face against the back of his shoulder.