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A silent ring goes off somewhere in my mind. Round One has ended, and even though I’m literally on top of him, Dante has won. But only this round. Agreeing to the deal may give me some time—time to figure out an actual plan. He said he won’t take me without my permission. If I agree now, at least that buys me time, and he won’t be thinking of alternative ways to entrap me.
He looks at me with a neutral expression. I can’t tell how he’s feeling other than the distinct way his eyes darken.
“You sure about this, Serenity? You can't take it back once you make a deal with me.”
I take a breath. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He leans up on his elbows, his face so close to mine that I can feel his breath against my lips. For a moment, I think he might kiss me. Instinctively, I lick my lips, and his eyes shift. They bounce between my eyes and my lips, but the second I lean forward, the spell breaks as he turns and plops me onto the mat.
“Good,” he says, getting up. “I’m going to talk with my accountant and my lawyer today. So, we’ll have everything set up.”
The whole situation took a huge 180, and I feel like a blast of cool air hit the room, making me highly aware that I’ve given my body to the devil.
I try to shake the lust out of my mind as I get up and step out of the ring.
Dante reaches his hand out, and he nods to my gloves. I can’t tell if he’s disappointed I didn’t fight harder or if he’s upset he won’t get his money. Not that he would’ve before, anyway.
“I’m going to schedule a doctor's appointment for you. She is a very good friend of mine and will understand our… situation.”
“Okay,” I say softly.
Dante gives me a curt nod and then leaves the room. Leaving me alone and aware of what I had just done.
Fuck, I hope I made the right choice.
Chapter 7
Dante
Serenitytookthedeal.There’s a part of me that can’t believe it. It’s been less than a day since I gave her the deal, and I gave it to her while she was drunk.
I don’t trust how cut and dry this seems. She hasn't mentioned her father once—not about his safety or where he might be—so maybe she isn’t doing it for him. I didn’t think Serenity had a cold heart, but pain can cause you to do all sorts of things. Especially pain caused by a loved one. Someone who’s supposed to protect you and love you no matter what.
Sitting at my usual table at The Mockingbird, one of the restaurants that I own, my hand grips my drink tight, my mind drifting off to my father and how he treated me. He created who I am. Designed me to be the ruler of his kingdom by whipping me into shape. He wanted a cold, heartless man at the helm. One who would not be swayed by anything.
I suppose my attraction to Serenity would be a disappointment for him. He would take her father’s debt in blood, not caring whose blood it is. I have blood on my hands, though. I have taken lives for the family, but now I have the forethought of it making sense. Because taking someone’s life could be the first domino, and pushing one over could give you a lifetime of headaches.
Downing the rest of my drink, I wave over the waitress for another, trying to drown out the memories of my father.
I tap my table as I wait for Mark Vecchio and Jasper Cross to arrive. Mark is my lawyer, and Jasper is my accountant. Other than Rico and Massimo these two are my most trusted men. Though Rico is my family and loyal to me, these men have my back because they understand what happens if they put a knife into it.
I check my watch when Vecchio and Cross finally show up.
“Sorry, boss,” Vecchio says as he sits beside me in the booth, his wiry frame covered in a gray plaid velour sports jacket. Jasper, who has his usual white button-up and gray slacks, nods his apology and sits beside him.
“What the fuck took you so long? I‘ve been here for over an hour.” Anger coats my words, and I try to take deep, calming breaths. I get testy every time I think about my father. Somehow, only when it comes to him, I can’t control my emotions.
“Sorry again, Sir, it’s just that we’ve run into a problem.” Vecchio takes the bag off his shoulder and places it on the table.
The waitress comes back with my drink and I say, trying to sound calm, “What problem?”
“Well,” Cross says. “We got stopped on our way here by the Donnelleys.”
Shit.
The Donnelleys are another family here in Vegas. They expanded over from Chicago. Those guys are messy, mean, and creators of chaos. If my boys are being stopped by the Donnelleys, that can’t be good.
“What happened?”
