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Deep down, I know it’s true, even if I keep coming up with every excuse in the book to explain my worsening symptoms. That I slept badly. That I need to eat more than Pam’s smoothies, which she’s been amazing enough to keep sending to Dante’s house.
The central air in the penthouse.
Theweather.
Basically anything I can blame instead of the increasingly obvious reality: that I’mdying.
The sand in my hourglass is running out.
Taking a deep breath, I open the bathroom door to find Dante standing right there. But it’s not anger or suspicion on his face as I exit the bathroom.
It’s concern.
“Sorry, I was zoned out on my phone,” I lie. “Ready to go?”
His hand comes up to touch my chin gently, lifting my eyes to his.
“Are you okay?” he rumbles quietly, sending a bolt of…I don’t know what…deep into my chest.
Something’s changed with us. I could say it happened the night of the firemen’s ball, when Silvio attacked me. I could say it was when we let our pain bleed out together—me telling him about what happened to me, and him telling me about Claudia.
But not so very deep down, I know it started much earlier than that, even if I can’t pinpoint exactly when. I don’t even think there was a “moment” when things flipped like a switch. It’s like reading a good book and getting so lost in it that when you finally look up, day has turned to night.
It’s changed.We’vechanged.
…Just in time for the tragic ending.
“Yeah,” I lean my cheek into his palm as my eyes get lost in his. I inhale his familiar scent, and feel the way his closeness makes my core tighten, my skin tingle, and my heart race a little faster.
“I’m great.”
No falling in love.
No falling in love.
…Except I’ve already broken that rule.
30
DANTE
Gabriel’s livingroom is silent. No background music. No conversation. Just the occasional cleared throat and the distant sounds of Pam cooking in the kitchen down the hall.
To say that this dinner with Tempest, her brothers, Charles, and Maeve is going to be frosty is the understatement of the fucking millennium.
Charles isn’t even here, not that I really expected him to come. But that’s fine. The main reason for this dinner was, yes, to be Vito’s ambassador and to make sure Charles doesn’t do business anymore with Massimo Carveli or Luciano Amato. But I had other motives as well.
I don’t know if the Cold War between Alistair and Gabriel and me will ever end. But if it could be put on hold for a while, that would be nice. Tempest’s brothers matter to her, a lot. They’re her entire family.
I know there’s a way to put this animosity to bed. But I just can’t go there, because of a promise made to a friend to whom I owe my life.
I fucked up, didn’t I, Dante? Fuck, Alistair and Gabriel are going to be so fucking angry. And Tempest? What will she think of me?
I’ll take Layla’s secret to my grave. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to put a Band-aid on my relationship with Tempest’s brothers.
Even if it’s only temporary.
Originally, I’d invited the Black family out to my Hampton’s home for dinner. When that got a flat “no”, I changed the venue to my penthouse in the city. Gabriel eventually agreed on the condition thathehost—as if, what, I’ve got secret ninjas waiting to jump out of my goddamn ceiling to assassinate my in-laws?
