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“Did you stay in contact with any of your foster carers or people you grew up with?” She shakes her head. “How did you meet Dante?”
She dries her hands. “My friend. She was dating someone he knew.”
I grin. “Love at first sight, was it?”
She frowns. “So, how come you’re single?”
“I’ve been away for a long time, so I never really got the chance.”
“Away?” she repeats.
“You know the life, Tessa,” I say, finishing my coffee.
“What did you go away for?”
I grin, standing. “I’ll tell you when we know each other better.”
***
“How did the first day of babysitting go?” Callie asks, handing me a beer.
“She’s hard work. Can we run some checks on her?”
“Already did. There’s nothing. She grew up in care. Never been in trouble with the police, not even a speeding ticket. She’s never held a job, and there are no family on record.”
“Yeah, she said as much. Weird, though, that she’s not even worked. How long she been with Dante?”
Callie shrugs. “I have no idea. The marriage was registered eight years ago.”
“So, she was what, sixteen?”
Callie nods. “Young.”
“She’s a nervous wreck. She jumps at the slightest noise.”
“Just focus on the job, Nero. We’re not there to rescue little miss gangster wife. We’ve bigger fish to fry.”
CHAPTER FIVE
7 years earlier . . .
TESSA
I still remember the first time Dante hit me outside the bedroom. He accused me of flirting with a barman. I wasn’t, I’d just smiled and thanked him for my drink, but it was all the excuse Dante needed to lose his mind. He punched me so hard, my ears rang for hours. Everyone around us in the bar turned the other way. They didn’t want to call Dante Anderson out and get themselves into a bother. After that day, I was a little more cautious of how I spoke and the smiles I gave.
So, now, as I cover a black eye with makeup, I fight tears from falling. I hate myself a little more every time this happens. And it isn’t every day—some days, he’s the sweetest man. But then there’re days like today, where whatever I do or say is going to get me hurt because he’s just in that sort of mood. I know the signs now. The look in his eyes, which darken in anger and narrow slightly. And the way he questions me, asking for every single detail, warns me that things are going to go badly for me. And no matter how much I try to defuse the situation, I somehow only make it worse.
The bedroom door opens and Dante lingers there, watching me. “Wear the black dress.” I nod. “And lose the makeup.” I stare at his reflection in the mirror. No makeup means people will see my eye. “What?” he asks, daring me to speak what’s on my mind. I shake my head and force a smile before taking a makeup wipe to remove what little I’d already applied.
* * *
Hooking my arm into Dante’s, he leads me into the bar. We spend most Saturday nights in here. Most of his business associates are here too, and they play poker and drink whiskey.
Some of the other men’s wives sit together, but I’ve never been invited to join them, and Dante wouldn’t let me even if I was. He always takes my hand and keeps me close.
Dante is speaking with Kai, and I have an urgent need to use the bathroom. He releases me, but as I move towards the bathroom, I feel myself being tugged back by the hair. I fully expect it to be Dante having changed his mind, but as I turn, it’s Emerson glaring at me. “I thought that was you,” she snaps. I haven’t seen her or Callie since that day in Dante’s apartment. He’d taken my mobile phone from me, and I hadn’t been allowed to leave his side, so it’s been impossible to contact either of them.
“Emerson,” I gasp. “I . . . I . . .” My eyes fill with tears because there’s so much I want to say but can’t. I have no doubt Dante will come searching for me if I don’t hurry.
