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“No. I haven’t.”
The confirmation should ease my worries but I feel like he wanted to say ‘yet’. At least he didn’t.
“I trusted you, but you use me.” Although my voice is still trembling, I sound more confident.
Dante shakes his head and steps into the light. “No. That was the one thing I never did. I never used you.”
I widen my stare. He must really think I’m a fool. That’s my fault for acting like one. “You expect me to believe you?”
“I don’t but it’s the truth.”
“You’re planning to hurt to my father. How can I believe you didn’t use me in some way?”
“You have no idea who or what your father truly is.” Darkness I’ve never seen before enters his eyes. It’s hard to believe he’s the same guy who looked at me with such tenderness only last night. “If you think I’m a monster, I wonder what the fuck you’d think of him.”
What the hell does he mean?
Lord knows Dad and I have our shortcomings, and I hate, hate, hate his controlling ways. I loathe the opportunities and everything he’s given to my step-family. But I could never accept anyone telling me that Dad isn’t a good person. That’s just not true.
“My father is a good man. the evidence of what he’s done for Boston speaks for itself. That’s why he’s the governor. He wouldn’t be where he is today if he wasn’t. There has to be some kind of mistake. You’re a criminal. What would the Bratva want with a man like my father?”
He gives me a mirthless grin that’s colder than his stare. “If I felt nothing for you, I wouldn’t pity you. But I do.”
My temper flares. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Sorry, Printsessa, I think you will need all that you can get when you find out what daddy dearest has been up to.”
There’s something about the way he says that, that piques my senses.
“And what has my father been up to?”
He gives me a hesitant stare, as if contemplating whether to tell me. Eons seem to pass in between those seconds before his lips part and he releases a haggard sigh.
“Your father is part of the Bratva, Serenity. He’s my second in command.”
My mouth falls open and all the blood drains from my head making it feel like it’s going to slide off my body.
I gaze back at him, waiting for him to tell me he’s joking. But Dante has never joked with me. Not once during the time that I’ve been with him has he even attempted it.
But if it’s not a joke then it must be a lie.
“You’re lying. You have to be lying. My father? Bratva?” I shake my head as if I’m trying to get the thought out. That way it won’t be true.
Dante walks forward and takes out a set of pictures from his pocket. When he reaches me, he places them on the bed and spreads them out.
“Maybe this will help you. These are of your father with my family. My father, my uncle and me.”
The moment I see Dad’s face on every one of them, my brain stops.
One is of Dad standing next to Dante and older man who looks like him. I guess he must be Dante’s father because of the striking resemblance. There’s another of the three of them again but Dante is younger. Teenager younger.
The others are of Dad with the man I assume is Dante’s father and another man who also bears the same resemblance. He must be the uncle. The same uncle who is the Pakhan.
Dad is there standing with them as if he’s one of them.
I press down so hard on my back teeth I fear my jaw will snap.
My God…
