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He was killing her. “Dante-”
“We both fucked up, Amara,” he told her, his eyes blazing. “And we’re both going to own up to it. And we’re both going to talk about this and forgive and move on. I’m not giving you a choice here. I didn’t work my ass off all these years for something trivial as lack of communication to break us.”
“It isn’t trivial,” Amara murmured.
“Yes, it is,” he told her. “We get out of here. We fucking reconnect. Did you really think I was going to let you go? After fighting for us for a decade, did you really think that, Amara?”
Amara fisted her hands. “You hurt me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a dick.”
A reluctant chuckle escaped her at the way he said that.
His lips twitched before he sobered again. “Did you know,” he went on, searing her with his dark gaze, “that while Tristan and I killed the assholes who took you, I’ve been searching for the guy who gave the order for years? It’s been my side project and going undercover just made me realize I should have given it more time. Because it’s all connected and I was too focused on Bloodhound Maroni. Fucking dead bastard.”
God, she hurt. She hurt for him, for herself, for everything they had been through because of one man. For the second time in her life, Amara was glad of someone’s death.
“You couldn’t have known, Dante,” she told him softly, wanting to ease the pain she could feel emanating from him. “What he did isn’t on you. Who he was isn’t on you.”
“I am a Maroni, Amara,” he told her, and she realized the change in his demeanor taking over had already brought. He had been an heir, a prince, who now sat on the throne. “I am his blood.”
“Yes,” she nodded, holding his stare. “But it’s not what you’re given that makes you who are. It’s what you do with it. It’s not the weapon but the one who wields it that holds the power, and you, Dante Maroni are a powerful man.”
“Fuck, I want to kiss you right now,” he cursed out, his eyes fire on hers.
Amara felt her breath catch, and for the first time, felt her lips twitch. “Get yourself out of the chair first, badass.”
His lips mirrored hers for a second before he spoke again. “You really think they have me here against my will? That I’d be foolish enough to risk myself if this wasn’t my plan?”
Amara felt her heart begin to race, her eyes looking down at the ropes secured tightly around him. “What do you mean?”
“My father was working with the Syndicate for a long time,” he explained to her. “And he wasn’t alone. The organization wouldn’t want someone disagreeable in power in the Outfit. Whoever their mole is would have been waiting for an opportunity to eliminate me.”
“So, you handed it to them on a platter by traveling alone to Los Fortis,” Amara finished, comprehending exactly what he was saying. God, how could she have forgotten he was such a good player? Something akin to pride filled her.
“I hadn’t anticipated them taking you.”
“Still well played, my king,” she whispered, a small smile on her face. “What are you waiting for now?”
“For them to come to the room, to interrogate me,” he told her calmly. “I’ll be leading them. Though they’ll probably hit me a little, I need you to stay calm and keep working on the ropes. Had I been alone, I wouldn’t have worried. But you and-”
“I know,” the smile dipped from her face, her stomach turning. “I’ll try. It’s just this place, I can’t control my responses.”
“This hell is my kingdom now, Amara,” he told her, his eyes solemn. “As long as I’m alive, it won’t touch you. And I intend to live a very long, very happy life with you.”
The knot she’d been holding inside her melted a bit. Even in the middle of her hell, Amara felt a feeling of safety wash over her.
Taking a deep breath in, she nodded and began to work on the ropes.
She was trying. Dante could see the toll it was taking on her mind, being in this place, tied to a chair, pregnant with their child.
Pregnant.
She was fucking pregnant and she hadn’t told him. Albeit he’d been playing dead for most of the time, it enraged him. That last time he’d gone to see her had been an impulse. He’d wanted to be with her, touch her, just one more time in case he actually died and never got that chance again. He hadn’t meant to see her, much less push her against the wall, fuck her raw, and leave. That had been a dick move, he admitted that. But they’d made a baby, their baby. Fuck, that did things to him, knowing the queen of his heart was going to be the mother of his child.
And what an amazing mother she would be. She had been raised by a loving woman and magnified it tenfold within her. Amara was a woman born with an instinct to nurture – the weak, the innocent, the helpless. She was soft and so fucking forgiving, or else she would have kicked his ass to the curb a long time ago. The fact that she had packed up and moved thousands of miles away to protect their child filled him with pride and warmth. She was a tigress with her cubs. Finding her in Los Fortis, knowing this time he was keeping her, knowing he didn’t have to leave her again, had been the single-most rewarding moment of his life.
But that little blood on her thighs worried him. He knew there could be a little spotting, and this was an incredibly stressful situation, but fuck, Dante hated putting her through this. He hadn’t anticipated that they would take her, or that they would bring them to this location.
