I glance from my father to Harper, and I can’t help that my stomach is in knots, like a huge rock is sitting at the bottom and only more trouble is brewing for all of us.
“Tell me everything about the man I killed.” Harper doesn’t so much as flinch. The coldness she exudes is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
The Harper I fell in love with was warm, bubbly, would do anything for her little boy.
I suppose that hasn’t changed, at least the part regarding Zeke, but the sunshine in her eyes has faded. She’s as black as night, without a star in the sky.
I expel a heavy breath. I want to reach out to her, but now isn’t the time to break through the walls she’s put up, the barrier she’s blockaded around her heart.
Dante stands and retrieves a file from the cabinet along the wall, opening and placing it on his desk.
“Santino DeLuca, the son of Massimo DeLuca. You know my wife, Nikki.”
Harper gives a faint nod. “Of course.”
“Nikki and Massimo were estranged siblings. Massimo had a son, Santino. That is the man who broke into your home whom you shot and killed.” Dante is matter-of-fact with his answers; there’s no smile or callousness in his tone.
I glance at the file briefly, taking in the details.
Name: Santino DeLuca.
Spouse: Livia DeLuca.
Children: None.
The file lists of Santino’s personal physical characteristics: height, weight, tattoos, scars and his date of birth. It’s nothing more than a profile that could easily be scouted off the internet. There’s nothing helpful within the file.
“He wanted my son.” Harper balls her hands into fists, irritation evident in her voice. Her shoulders rise and she inhales sharply. “I had a duty to protect my family. You had a duty to protect us!”
Dante steps around the desk toward us and perches himself at the edge, staring down at Harper. “I was not made aware that Santino had any interest in running his family’s business. Our man inside their organization either failed me or betrayed me. I’m not happy, but these things take time.”
I’ve never seen my father happy, but I do believe him. “What are we going to do about the DeLucas? Is the threat neutralized, or do we need to worry about them coming after Zeke?”
Dante rubs the back of his neck, quiet, contemplative. “I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t know their endgame. They used to dabble solely in trafficking of goods; they’ve upgraded to humans. Women and children. I don’t like it. We put a stop to it, at least with what my intel has told me, it’s stopped. But Santino coming after Zeke, something feels off.”
Harper laughs darkly under her breath. “You don’t say?” Annoyance rings in her voice, and she stands, coming to face him, towering over him as he’s seated at the edge of his desk, his hands at either side of himself.
“My son was nearly killed,” Harper snarls at him and steps closer, invading every bit of personal space that existed. “I’ve traumatized him. I shot the man holding him hostage, and now I have to see it over and over again. Every night when I close my eyes, I see the blood. I hear the gunshot. I smell the gunpowder. Do you know what’s worse? Dreaming that I missed Santino, and I shot my son.”
I’m practically holding my breath. Hearing the words breaks my heart. “None of it was your fault,” I whisper, staring at Harper.
She glares at me. “No shit. It’s his fucking fault.” She throws a hand up at Dante, pointing at him. “I can’t fix this. I can’t take away the nightmares that Zeke has every night. Do you know he wakes up screaming? Do you know what that’s like? Realizing that you’re the reason he’s having bad dreams?”
Dante’s expression is grim. “I have some idea.”
“Doubtful.” Harper folds her arms across her chest, a defensive stance as she glances Dante up and down. “You sit behind a desk, ordering men to do your bidding, while you sleep peacefully at night. You’re a monster.”
Dante rises from the edge of the desk. “Do you think I’ve never pulled the trigger? I used to be second to Enzo. The men who work for me, they used to work for him.”
I don’t remember a single day when my father wasn’t Don, but it must have been before I was born.
Harper flinches. “So, you killed your boss?” She glances at me and smirks. “Husband, are you ready to take over the family business?”
I know she’s joking, but Dante isn’t amused. Sneering at her, he bares his teeth and steps around the desk. He grabs her by the throat, cutting off her air supply, lifting her feet several inches off the ground.
“Put my wife down!” I lunge at Dante, slamming my shoulder into his chest.
He lets go, dropping Harper as she falls back into the chair, eyes wide, gasping for breath.
