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“You don’t know that.”
“I know I will move heaven and earth to give you whatever you want.”
“I want you. I want us.”
“As do I. But I also know it would eat at you, baby. Not having that closure. That revenge.” The battle in her eyes continues until it settles, and I know which side won.
“Come. Let’s get dressed. We have a long drive ahead of us.” She opens her mouth, but before she can even argue, my phone rings from across the room.
My burner.
There are only a few people who have that number, and really, none would be calling me right now.
“I need to get that,” I say, pressing my lips to her hair before rolling off the bed and padding to the dresser.
And the name on the display makes me wonder if maybe I should have just agreed to her plan of getting lost and changing our names.
Forty-Four
-Lilah-
When we arrive back at the Carluccio compound, Marco is on the steps waiting. He walks down them, and seeing him has the dread curling in my belly.
We aren’t a couple touring Lake George anymore.
We are back to Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers on opposite sides, praying it doesn’t end in tragedy. We’re back to secrets, stolen kisses, and trying to undo a lifetime of wrongdoings.
“No one’s here, boss man,” Marco says through the window Dante rolled down.
“Great, thanks. Can you park this so I can take Lilah to her room before everyone shows up?” Marco nods before Dante puts the car in park and opens his door.
I don’t move.
Not because I’m trained to stay in a car until someone opens the door for me, but because I don’t want to leave this car.
When I leave this car, it’s done.
When I leave this car, we’re back to secrets and hiding.
Dante opens the door, holding his hand out for me. I stare at it.
“We’ll go back soon,” he says, voice low, always knowing.
How does the man do it? Always knowing what I’m thinking like we’re on the same wavelength.
“For a weekend?” I ask, and he must know I don’t mean New York. That I’m asking if we’ll go back to that freedom again, and if it will just be for stolen, secret weekends.
“Forever, my love,” he says, and his lips tilt in the smallest smile. “Just need some time.”
I sigh, taking his hand and letting him lead me into the lion’s den before he locks me back in my tower.
At least this time, I go willingly.
* * *
“You’re meeting my father tonight,” he says when he walks into my room, the door locking behind us in a way that feels ominous.
Fitting with the way my blood freezes in my veins.
