Page 32 of Daddies of the Underworld

I felt like I needed to take a shower before I dared step into his rooms. But none of them made me feel unwelcome.

The opposite, in fact.

I’d thought of Villa Belladonna as a fairytale, and this compounded the idea…if fairytales came with armed guards at every door.

This evening, I sat between Dante and Luca, across from Matteo, and tried not to think about the fact that I’d slept with the man on my left.

Tried and failed, but I gave it a good effort.

Dante looked exactly the same as always. Controlled and silent, his shoulders broad beneath his black shirt, tattoos visible on his forearms.

And if I looked close enough at his neck, I’d see the faint traces of my teeth where I’d bit him during sex. I barely remembered it, and he didn’t try to hide it.

Every time I looked at it, heat crawled up my neck and set my face on fire.

“If you keep staring at Dante’s neck, you might as well ask if you can do it again.” Luca’s shoulder brushed mine when he leaned forward.

I choked on my water.

Dante paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, and Matteo stared at his plate.

“I hate all of you.” I wiped water from my chin with a scowl.

“No, you don’t.” Luca handed me a napkin. “But I appreciate your dedication to the lie.”

Dante’s lips twitched. He took a bite, almost playing off the near smile.

I picked up my fork, then lowered it. “Do you have an update?”

“Your old suite is sealed.” Matteo wiped his mouth with a napkin, tiny, almost invisible creases appearing beside his eyes. “Carlo is reviewing every device found on Emil, and we are still searching for the camera.”

“And the thing he was looking for?” I wasn’t buying the idea that someone had taken pictures of me, then left one in my dresser as a warning. A warning for what?

“We will know more soon.” He’d been saying that for three days.

I didn’t want to doubt him.

They were doing everything they could to keep me safe.

I chafed at the restrictions. I’d always been independent, but it got worse after my parents died.

I’d not had anyone to take care of me in years. And the restrictions that came with this made me want to run.

Dante leaned forward, forearms braced on the table. “I will not let you walk into blind danger because fear made you desperate, or because you feel restricted.”

Oh damn. I’d said that last part out loud.

Dante continued, turning in his chair so his knee bumped mine beneath the table. “We will give you anything you need, anything you request that is within our abilities, but we will not let you put yourself in danger.”

I caught onto the words and pulled them close, a thread of want curling around me and tugging. “What if I want you?” The words were out before I could stop them. I’d been angry when he first left me after we had sex.

I’d thought it wouldn’t bother me.

Dante wasn’t a cuddler, and he’d gotten a message that I was at risk. Of course he took off instead of staying in bed with me. But it had bothered me. It annoyed the fuck out of me, actually.

The room went so still and quiet it became oppressive. Dante’s eyes darkened, but that was it.

I set my fork down, my heart beating too hard. Each pulse reminded me of Dante’s hands on my body. “I’m tired of feeling guilty. I’m tired of wanting something and then punishing myself because it’s unusual. My whole fucking life has been unusual. Why should this be any different?”