Page 82 of Crescendo (Beautiful Monsters #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Daniela

One minute to spare and it’s only the grace of a switching traffic light that allows me to reach the intersection near the hotel while the final seconds count down.

Fifty. Thirty. Ten. Three. When I finally cross the street, my heart is pounding in my chest—however, the moment my heel strikes the curb, the cell phone in my pocket rings, marking the end of this round of the game.

“Very good, Mi Bella ,” Vinny praises once I’ve answered it. His voice trembles. He’s excited. He’s... He’s in a mood. “I’m in the car,” he tells me just as I spot a familiar vehicle lurking a few blocks ahead. “Walk toward it.”

“Wait,” I croak, dragging my feet the way a child tries to desperately stave off her punishment. “Let him go first...please. Then I’m yours.”

A growl nips at my words. No one ever tells Vinny what to do and lives for the insult—but my old friend is as calculating as he is cold.

He may be able to see me, but he can’t be certain that I haven’t brought along anyone who might be lurking out of sight.

At this moment, I hold the power, and I can almost hear him tallying up the pros and cons.

Is getting me back really worth losing his leverage so soon?

I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the car door opens and a tall figure finally staggers out.

Any fear that he could be Vinny or one of his men is dashed once he hits the ground on his knees.

In the end, it takes him five tries to stand upright, and when he turns to me, I see why.

Several fingers of his right hand are now just bloody stumps.

My, how that scarlet substance seems so different outside of the devil’s domain. It’s redder here. Harsher. More violent. Espi leaves a brutal ruby trail behind, and I don’t know how I manage to stay standing when he staggers toward me, his eyes widening with recognition.

“N-No.” Shaking his head, he tries to turn back, but I’m on him before he can even make it halfway.

Up close, I smell the blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. His left eye is swollen shut, and I can’t tell how badly hurt he might be beneath his sweatshirt. When I seize a handful of his collar and shove him past me, he’s too weak to resist.

“Run,” I tell him without looking back.

“No. Don’t do this, Danny.” His voice is only a strained whisper, and I hesitate for a single moment.

How easy would it be to run, I wonder as I glance along the deserted street. Though how easy would it be for Vinny to hunt us both down?

“Please, Espi. Run for me,” I choke out, taking a painful step forward. “And don’t stop running until they’re gone.”

I don’t look back to see if he listened. With my gaze on the black car, I keep walking, drawing out every last step to give him enough time. Vinny isn’t oblivious to the tactic, and static blares from the phone still in my grip .

“I’m waiting, Daniela,” he snaps when I bring the receiver to my ear. “My patience is wearing thin.”

I force myself to walk faster, and I pray to God that Espi is already gone by the time I finally reach the black car. As if in slow motion, the door to the back seat opens and a man climbs out, his expression wary—Gino.

“Miss Manzano,” he greets, holding the door open for me.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I climb inside. Seconds? Minutes? An eternity?

Freedom doesn’t want to loosen its hold on me just yet.

It lingers, taunting me with all the new memories I’ve gained during my time spent outside my cage.

Lucifer’s words are still in my head. His scent still fills my lungs, and maybe that musk is what gives me the strength to curl my knees and collapse onto a leather seat across from a man I somehow always knew I could never escape.

Vinny watches me without a shred of emotion.

He is stone, his eyes darker than coals, as he reaches into the pocket of his crisp, designer suit jacket and withdraws something that glints in the light filtering in through the tinted windows.

He makes sure that I recognize it before he slips it on the index finger of his left hand—or at least as far as he can, forcing it just past the bed of the fingernail. It’s my ring.

Fixated on the diamond, I almost miss the telltale jerk of his shoulder right before he slaps me and the blow catches me unguarded across my cheek.

The icy pain searing across the bridge of my nose warns me that he broke the skin.

Unsatisfied, he strikes me again, so hard that my body is flung across the seat and blood floods my mouth.

Old habits die hard, and I wipe the droplets away with the back of my hand before they can taint the leather upholstery.

Without a word, Vinny waits until my blurring vision clears before he slips the ring off and returns it to his pocket.

Then he glances over at the man still holding the car door open and jerks his chin toward the main road .

“Hunt that motherfucker down and put a bullet in his head,” he says, ordering Espi’s death the same way one might order coffee.

Nodding, Gino takes off, and I can’t see anything through the windows when I fling myself against one, bracing both hands flat. I struggle to scream away, hoping that my voice manages to escape. “Espi, run! Espi run—”

Vinny growls, and I hear his fist fly through the air before it lands like a missile against the back of my skull.

Black . Pain explodes behind my temples, but by then, my head was already floating.

I’m drifting...weightless. And, for a brief, blissful second, I almost believe that he actually killed me.

But, when I partially regain consciousness on the floor of the car, I feel his hand stroking my throbbing cheek.

As if escape would be that easy.

Dante

I can still smell the bitch. The loss of her heat is what wakes me up, and my fingers are already on fire as my eyes finally open.

Red prickles my vision the moment I sense she’s not in the room—but I’m more pissed when I realize just who the irritation is directed at.

For some reason, it isn’t at the bitch with the shower running, once again eager to wash me away.

Fuck her...

My cock wants to. It throbs for that stupid cunt, and I scan the room on the off chance I might find my balls somewhere close by.

For all I know, she hacked them off in my sleep—it’s the only goddamn reason that can explain my lying beside her on this fucking bed.

Instead, I find her knife on the mattress, and I grab it, clenching the handle as I consider ending this game now on my say-so.

Fuck her .

Keeping her close made sense with Mack hungry for revenge. It had nothing to do with her. Not her heat. Not her smell. Not her...

My fingers burn as if to counter that as I curl a fist and slam it against the mattress so hard that the knuckles pop.

Fuck her.

I should—just force my way into the bathroom and corner her there in the shower before she can scrub me from her skin. I’ll mark her again out of spite. Bite her. Come on her. Come in her. Take her. Claim her.

Drag her back to this fucking bed.

Vincent Stacatto may have owned her soul, but I’ll take the rest before I kill her.

I’ll beat his claim out of her with every orgasm and every fuck until her lips forgot how to fucking say “Vinny.” Or maybe I’ll settle for branding her again until she burns with my name. Until she can only say my name.

My mouth aches, stretched into a position it’s not used to forming as I shift to the edge of the bed.

A smile? A snarl. Whatever it fucking is remains fixed in place when I finally stand and make my way into the hallway.

Near the bathroom, my nostrils flare to breathe her in, and a growl rips from my throat as I analyze that scent.

Vinny’s little whore can’t erase me with soap and water this time.

Palming the handle of the sliding door, I picture her on the other side. Would it hurt her to take my cock so soon after the last time?

I’m curious to find out, and I twist the latch.

“Dante!”

The front door trembles with the force of the fist that’s I assume rapping on it from the other side. The girl’s knife is already in my hand, the blade at the ready—but the voice that shouts over the pounding keeps me from drawing it.

“Dante, open the fuck up. ”

When I finally do, Arno’s already halfway down the stairs, jerking his head for me to follow.

“We need to talk— away from your little pet.”

“Fine.” With one last look down the hall, I slam the door behind me and follow him down to the main level.

Arno doesn’t stop moving until he’s straddling the threshold of the doorway, glaring out at the gray sky. Sparks practically fly off his hair; the bastard’s a live wire, aching to electrocute the fuck out of whoever pissed him off.

“What is it?”

“Mack’s decided how I can ‘repay’ the life I took,” he finally growls, his gaze on the storm clouds rolling in over the horizon.

“Oh, really?” I grit my teeth, my hands curled into fists. Whatever this means, it can’t be good. “How?”

“A cage match. No holds barred.” Arno looks back, staring me dead in the eye as he adds, “It can be a death match at the victor’s discretion.”

“Bullshit.” Only fucking Mack would dangle a rule like that—knowing just who had the advantage. “Fuck that. I’ll talk to him—”

“You won’t,” Arno cuts in.

“The hell I won’t. If Mack wants you, he’ll go through me.” I mean every word—but, for once, the pup doesn’t back down, and this time, I’m the one who looks away.

“No, he won’t,” Arno grunts. “You don’t get to fight this battle.”

“Arno—”

“Don’t fucking Arno me, Dante,” he snaps. “Don’t treat me like a goddamn idiot, either. This is my fight.” His voice breaks.

I can’t even look at him. I don’t know what might happen if I do. I might punch him. He might hit back harder.

So I grit my teeth and flex my fists, and I think of Mack. “That bastard’s had this coming a long time.” I glance over to see Arno nod .

“Damn right he has. He never got over the fact that Dino chose you. Not him. Not even me. You. There were men that he’d run with for decades who didn’t earn the same honor.”

“Don’t make it something that it wasn’t,” I hiss, shaking my head. “Dino didn’t do sentimental. He picked me because I was the fucker who shouted back ‘how high’ when he said ‘jump.’” I don’t know if I’m ashamed of that though. If Dino said “jump,” there was always a fucking good reason to leap.

“He picked you because he saw himself in you,” Arno says. “‘ Dante, the little shit with claws .’” He tries and fails to mimic the man’s thick Irish accent. “It’s true, ya know. You are the most like him, and it affects the people around you the same as it did him.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean—”

“Don’t you ever wonder why Espi hates you so much?” he starts, cutting me off. “It’s the same fucking reason why I hated Dino.”

“Why’s that, then?” I can’t ignore the unease in my voice.

Arno rarely mentions Dino in any context outside of the past. Hell, even before I went to prison, he rarely referred to the man as his father.

“Espi hates you because he can’t change you.

You are who you are. No matter how hard he tries or whatever reasons he has to, he just can’t blame you for being the only way you know how to be, and he hates himself more for wanting you to change.

He won’t admit it, but Espi hates you because it’s the only fucking way he can keep from hating himself.

” Arno takes a deep breath and exhales loudly.

“Look, Dino had his own battles. You’ve had yours. This one is mine .”

When I turn to face him, the man staring back is the old bastard I remember before grief wore him down and pain left him jagged. Arnold Mackenzie, who was forced to beg for scraps in his father’s own gang—and nobody better fucking forget it.

“This is my fight,” I say, watching his jaw clench.“ Danny —she killed that fucker. His blood is on my hands.” I still can’t believe that. The little lamb grew fangs. She taught herself how to bite back hard—and I saw it in her eyes; the little bitch had relished in it.

But, for whatever reason, Arno’s determined to take credit for her kill. “I only came here...I only came to say goodbye,” he says over his shoulder, facing the doorway again. “Or...whatever.” He starts forward, but I grab his arm before he can take off.

“When?”

“When else?” he snaps, shrugging my hand away. “Mack gave me the ‘honor’ of choosing the time. I chose now. It’s better than drawing it out...” He breaks off once he sees the figure leaning against the door to the pit up ahead.

Mack must have laid off the alcohol last night to be up this fucking early—though I don’t think Arno can say the same. He’ll have to be twice as fast against a well-rested opponent. Twice as ruthless.

“I’ve got your back,” I say.

Still walking, he looks over his shoulder, and something crosses his expression but disappears before I can name it—and it’s a good fucking thing it does.

Anything but hate is a liability in Mack’s Kennel.

Knowing that, Arno remains silent as he leads the way to the entrance, where Mack’s already waiting, his cocky grin firmly in place.

“How did I have a feeling that the puppy would go running right to the cat?” he wonders, rubbing his chin.

“Fuck you,” Arno says.

But I meet Mack’s gaze headon and flash a mocking smile of my own. It’s all teeth, and the fucker knows a threat when he senses it. He opens his stance.

“Arno didn’t ask me for shit,” I admit. “But...if you want to fight anyone, it’s going to be me.”

“Dante.” Arno grinds my name between his teeth. “Stay the fuck out of this— ”

“Arno can have the winner,” I say over him, my gaze squarely on Mack. “But you fight me first.”

If anything, Mack smiles wider as he turns and opens the door to the pit, instantly rousing the dogs inside. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”