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I’d graduated with my high school diploma. I’d walked onto the stage and collected my certificate while my family sat in the audience, cheering me on.
My family.
Including my dad.
He’d tried to make up for everything he’d done, but we both knew it was a slow process. He refused to come onto the mansion grounds to see me, and there was no way I was going back to the house I’d grown up in. So a couple of times a week we met in a neutral place where he’d hold Dario, play with him, and we’d make small talk.
It was slow going, but at least it was going.
“I love you so much, sweetheart,” Dante murmured in my ear as he rubbed his thumb over my clit.
I held his face in the palm of my hands, staring directly into his eyes as I whispered, “I love you, too.”
We were trying to be quiet so that no one would hear us in Dante’s old bedroom. We’d managed to slip away just before dinner was served, needing to touch each other, feel each other,bewith each other.
Sitting in that room strapped to a chair had put everything into perspective—showed me what really mattered in this world. And that was the people you loved.
It was easy to get caught up in the things we couldn’t change, but harder to be able to put them aside and move on.
Which was what we were trying to do.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
I groaned, tensing my pussy as my orgasm slammed through me. His words always turned me on and threw me off the edge of a cliff. His cock pulsated as he emptied inside of me, filling me with warmth.
We lay there, a sweaty mess of arms and legs, our clothes not fully off, as we tried to catch our breath. I sighed, opening my mouth to tell him once again that I loved him, but loud knocks at the bedroom door had me snapping my mouth closed.
“How much longer are you two going to be?” I heard laughter, and then, “We’re waiting to eat down here!”
“Fuck you, Lorenzo!” Dante shouted back, but he couldn’t contain the grin on his face.
I felt my cheeks warm, no doubt that they were red from embarrassment. “Do you think they heard us?” I asked.
Dante planted a kiss on the top of my head and then pushed off me, righting his clothes and mine in the process. “Maybe.” He shrugged, holding his hand out to me. I took it without a second thought, my hand moving to my neck and stroking my scar. It was a habit, one that I wished I could break, but it was so damn hard.
He moved my hand from my neck, his gaze stuck to mine, silently telling me to stop touching it. “Come on.” He led me to the door and then down the hallway, trying to distract me. He was getting good at that—really good at it. “I’m starving now.”
I laughed, staring up at him as we descended the stairs, trapped in our own world. I thought we were the closest we could be after we had Dario, but these last few weeks showed me that relationships were always evolving, and the more you got to know a person, the more you became infatuated with them.
And that was exactly what I was: infatuated with Dante Beretta.
My stomach growled as we got halfway down the stairs, but it was the front door bursting open that had both of our attention snapping up. A man ran inside followed by Mateo.
“Where is he?” the man asked, his gaze snapping around the entryway. “I need to talk to Lorenzo!”
His shirt was half in and half out of his pants, several buttons done up wrong. His dark hair was sticking up in all directions, and I swore there were several food stains on his shirt.
I gulped as Mateo crossed the entryway and darted into the dining room, then a few seconds later, Lorenzo appeared with Christian, Romeo, and Rafael at his back.
“Mr. Blue?” Lorenzo asked. “What are you doing here?” He paused at the bottom of the stairs, quickly glancing up at us and catching Dante’s eye. Whatever Dante had seen there had him pulling me to the bottom of the stairs where all the men stood in a line, putting on a united front. “And where the hell have you been?”
“I need your help,” the man gasped out. His face was pale, his breaths sawing in and out of his body.
“Youneedourhelp?” Lorenzo asked. I stared at him, seeing the stern look on his face. Was this the Mafia boss look? If so, then it was scary as hell.
The man drew in a breath, his gaze flicking to me. He blinked, frowning. “You’re…you’re her.” His voice was a mere whisper, but we all heard the confusion inside of it.
“I’m sorry?” I stepped closer to Dante, pushing my body against his, needing his strength. “Do I know you?”
The man stood taller, his gaze staying on me for another second before landing back on Lorenzo. “They have my niece. They have her captive and there’s no way for me to get to her.” He rubbed his hand down his face, clearly distraught. “She’s the only family I have left. And…if they hurt her.” He growled. “Who the hell am I kidding? Of course they’ve hurt her.Fuck.”
“Who?” Dante asked, his hand gripping my waist tighter. “Who has her?”
The man turned his attention back to me, then stopped his gaze on Dante. “The same people who had Navy.” What the…how did he know my name? “The same people who have been trafficking people for the last six months.” He paused, a muscle in his jaw clenching. “The same people you sit around the table with.” He blinked, staring at each man in turn but it was Lorenzo who he focused his attention fully on. “The Pozzi family.”
