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“Sophie’s not leaving, and we’re not getting the marriage annulled.”
“That’s up to her.”
“Look, Dante, it’s not even been three weeks. What grounds would she have for an annulment?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have my attorney look into it. All I know for certain is that I gave you a chance, and you blew it.”
“What if she’s pregnant?”
“What?”
“You heard me. I doubt she can get an annulment if she’s pregnant with my kid.”
“Why do you think…never mind. Like I said, I’ll have my attorney look into it and contact you or your attorney. I won’t make her stay here with you for another second.”
“No. She’s not leaving. Not today. Not until she bleeds. I won’t budge on that, because if she is pregnant then once she’s gone, you probably wouldn’t let me see her or my son or daughter again.”
“Probably not.”
“Then give me a little more time with her until we know for sure, then let her decide.”
He studies my face like he wants to punch it. Eventually, he grits out, “Fine.”
“Thank you,” I say in relief. “And you and the rest of her family are free to visit her here whenever you want. Even…Cole.” My jaw aches from how tightly it’s clenched when I speak blondie’s name.
Dante nods. “The penthouse feels empty without her and Madison. I didn’t realize how much I would miss them until…”
I start to point out he was probably too busy to notice them, but I swallow those words. “Still no word on Madison?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be. It’s at least partially your fault that she ran away. If you hadn’t been trying to force her into marrying you so soon, then maybe she wouldn’t have fled town.”
Great, now I’m responsible for Sophie’s near death and Madison’s disappearance. He’s right about the first so maybe he’s right about Madison too. I don’t bother objecting to his assumption.
“Apologizing won’t change anything,” I tell him. “And I was going to call you today when we got home to set up a meeting to tell you about the drones, give you the blackmail for the contacts you need, and talk to you about another issue.”
He looks slightly less furious at the mention of the shit he needs to keep his drug trafficking ring intact. “What issue?”
“Your employee, Eli, he’s a master of torture if the rumors are true.”
“Trust me, torture is a mild word for what Eli does to my enemies.” He says the words like a threat, warning me that if anything happens to Sophie, I’ll no doubt be on the other end of Eli’s techniques.
“Can I borrow him?”
He arches a black eyebrow. “You want to borrow my torturer?”
“That’s what this alliance of ours is about, right? Sharing resources now that we’re legally family?”
“For the moment,” he mutters as if that has the potential to change at any moment, even though I know he’s desperate for my political connections to help him move his product. “And who exactly would you be torturing?” Dante asks.
“No one.”
“So you won’t fucking tell me but I’m just supposed to instruct Eli to murder, maim, or whatever else you tell him to do?”
“No, I meant that I’m not planning to torture anyone other than the bomber when I find them. I just need Eli to question a few individuals to try and scare the one I’m after into making a move, a mistake. I want everyone to think I’m instructing the infamous Eligor to rip off fingernails or gouge out eyes. What’s that nickname about anyway? Is it Eli’s full name?”
