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Felix glanced up at him, his intelligent eyes wary but bright. "What waydidyou mean it?"
"Listen, kid," Dante murmured, tightening his grip on him just a little. "I'm not a nice guy. I'm not going to be a boring, respectful boyfriend, coming home after a nine to five to talk about the news and have missionary once a month."
He felt Felix's body tense up in his arms, and held him closer. "I'm a fucked-up killer. I want to fuck you, I want to throw money at you, I want to protect you. It's the only way I know how I do things. Will you let me?"
Felix shuddered in Dante's arms, the weight of his words sinking in. A nod was all it took for Dante's resolve to strengthen even more.
"Will you trust that I mean it? Even if I can't do all that romantic shit — will you trust that I mean it?"
"Yeah," Felix said. He paused, biting his lip. "I've been taking care of my family for so long," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know what it feels like to be taken care of. But I want to."
A surge of tenderness filled Dante's chest, spilling over. He kissed Felix, leaving them both breathless. It was a mingling of desperation and desire, an unspoken promise of protection and devotion. The world around them seemed to disappear as Dante lost himself in Felix's taste, the heat of their bodies pressed against one another, and the tantalizing surrender in Felix's soft moan…
"Ahem," Luna cleared her throat, breaking the spell that had consumed them. She stared at them with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Dante pulled back, shooting her a dangerous look.
"Sorry!" she said nervously. She looked worse for wear after what she'd gone through, her face still tear-stained and pale. A certain sort of person handled disasters by latching onto jokes, Dante knew. "It's just... are you dating my brother? Because, if you are, can I give you the shovel talk? I've always wanted to do that!"
Dante raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed by her intrusion. He glanced at Felix, who was fighting back laughter.
"Alright. Give it your best shot."
Luna broke into near-hysterical giggles, then cleared her throat dramatically and deepened her voice to mimic a gruff old man. "You listen here, young man," she began, pointing an accusatory finger at Dante. "You best treat my boy Felix right, or else you'll have me to deal with. Curfew's at ten sharp, and don't even think about getting him into trouble. I've got eyes everywhere, you hear?"
Felix groaned, his cheeks flushing crimson as he buried his face in his hands. "Luna, please stop," he mumbled through his fingers, mortified by the performance.
The sight of Luna puffing her chest out and wagging her finger at him was too much for Dante. He chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at the thought that this small girl could be so protective of her brother. He knew from experience that as soon as the adrenaline was out of her system, she'd collapse into tears, but for now, she was high on black humor.
But it wasn't all humor. Beneath her bravado was genuine concern for her brother. Felix and Luna were more than just family – they were survivors, bound together by the same determination that had led them both here.
"Deal," Dante agreed, softening his tone as he looked back at Felix, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of pride and amusement.
"Alright, everyone," Dante announced, his voice firm as he took control of the situation. "Let's move out." He couldn't deny how good it felt to have Felix and Luna by his side, their presence igniting a fierce protectiveness within him, a burning desire to keep them safe at all costs.
Felix looked up at Dante, his dark eyes filled with gratitude and an undercurrent of unspoken attraction that sent a jolt of electricity through Dante's body. As they moved toward the door, Felix's hand found Dante's, their fingers intertwining in a tight grip that spoke volumes of trust and vulnerability.
"Boss," Matteo called, drawing Dante out of his thoughts. "Where are we taking the girls?"
"Drop them wherever they want." He eyed his men's cars, each now packed with teary girls. Some would want to run straight home to loving parents — but for others, their parents were gonna be why they were in this mess to begin with. He'd seen that kind of shit before. "To their homes, to the pigs — or, shit, to a bar. Their choice."
His eyes narrowed. "And if they have the names of anyone who got them into this mess, I'm gonna be all ears."
"Understood," Matteo said with a nod, turning to relay the orders to the rest of the crew.
Dante opened the back door to his Cadillac. Luna slid inside, but Felix went around and sat in the passenger seat, bold as brass. Dante smirked.
It seemed so long since the first time he'd helped Felix into his car, there in the parking lot of a seedy motel.
Now, sitting next to him, Felix reached out and gave Dante's hand a squeeze. "Take me home," he said.
Chapter thirteen
Felixstoodinthewarm, sunlit kitchen of his new home, surrounded by the savory scent of spices and herbs. The quaint standalone house boasted a cozy charm with its white picket fence and colorful flower garden that spilled into the yard. It was the kind of place where memories were made.
For Felix, it represented a fresh start.
He hummed to himself as he chopped up vegetables for a salad, feeling deeply relaxed. This was a far cry from the cramped place that he and Luna used to call home. The newfound peace settled over him like a soft blanket, soothing the jagged edges of his past.
"Look at you, Felix," he murmured, smirking at himself in the reflection of a knife. "Who knew you'd become such a domestic goddess?"
