Page 11 of Freeing Denver

I didn’t think it would happen tonight. I thought at least another week. I had to make some last-minute adjustments to the plan, and I just hope it?—

“What a mess.”

I jump, my hand slapping over my heart as Dante Capelli appears from the adjoining bedroom. Vince’s cousin.

“Do you have to do that?” I snap.

He shrugs, tucking his hands into his pockets and nudging his cousin’s dead body with his shoe. “He definitely dead?”

I snatch up my dress. “Check.” As I pull it on, Dante grips Vince’s head. Seconds later, I hear a sickening snap and gape at him. “Was that necessary?”

“It’s a precaution,” he says sweetly, flashing me a devilishly handsome smile.

Dante Capelli is a little wild, and that’s putting it politely. He’s known for his fondness of violence and general disregard for tradition, but I saw a softer, more concerned side of him when he came to me two days after the explosion and told me Vince was the one responsible. He offered the information and said if I were to take Vince out, he’d ensure no one looked into it further. I get my revenge; he gets Vince out of the picture.

“So you can eventually take his place without blame?”I’d asked. It was a clear way for Dante to take the Capelli empire without dirtying his hands. Killing a family member would be frowned upon.

“Yes and no. I’m fairly sure he’s going to kill our grandfather, and I need to prevent that. I’d rather be next in line and have my grandfather alive,”Dante had said, and he seemed sincere.

But we were too late. Vince killed Vincenzo Sr. before I could secure a night to seduce Vince, and now Dante will be the head of the family.

“No one will miss him,” Dante says, tilting his head as he looks at his cousin’s lifeless body. “Isn’t that sad?”

“No.” I zip up my dress. “I hope he burns in hell.”

Dante hums sadly. “Me too. I liked Finn.” My throat thickens, and I nod. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Deluxe.”

“Can I still count on you?”

“I’m in your debt.”

I’m unsure if having him on my side is a good thing or not, but Vince Capelli is dead, and we have the Italians backing us. That has to be a win for now.

Lewis is waiting at the end of the hall. “You okay?”

I take his hand, hoping his touch will ease my trembling. “Let’s go.”

Vince’s security is gone, likely killed by Dante’s men, so the house is oddly quiet when we leave. I sit in the back seat of the car, and as we pass through the gate, I lean forward, putting my head between my knees.

“Talk to me, Denver,” Lewis says, glancing at me in the rearview.

“I’m going to be sick,” I whisper, grappling for an old takeout bag tucked into the car door. I open it and hurl my guts up. My eyes water and my shoulder and ribs scream in pain as I bring up the alcohol and little food I’ve had today.

It isn’t just kissing Vince. It’s killing him. Taking a life that close, that hands on … I’m trembling, and a cold sweat sits on my skin as Lewis opens the back window for me. I heave in breaths, one hand clinging to the bag of puke, the other to the car door.

I had to do it. For Colt. For Finn. For Ronan. Even for Wilder. Holly lost her dad because of that piece of shit. And while there’s no love lost for him, she deserved to have him in her life.

By the time I get home, shower, dress, and compose myself, the rich smell of coffee is filling the house. Helena is an early riser, and Alistair is, too.

With Lewis by my side, I go to the office. Just as I thought, Alistair is seated behind the desk, laptop open, his gray hair swept back, shirt pressed, thick-rimmed glasses on. Helena is placing a cup of coffee on his desk as he talks to her, but they fall silent when I appear in the doorway.

Alistair eyes me. “You’re up early.”

“I haven’t slept,” I say, clasping my hands together. “Vincenzo Capelli is dead.”

“I know. We were told yesterday.”

“Not senior. Junior,” I say. Helena looks between us.