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“Dante,” I start hesitantly, “how did you know where to find me?”
His movements halt as the smile on his face drops, the spatula in his hand suspended mid-air.No more secrets, I chant in my mind.
“There’s a tracker in your bracelet,” he replies, his eyes darting to my wrist. My gaze follows as I look at the unassuming gift from Arrow, confused.
“W-what? I don’t understand.” My mind is racing a million miles a minute trying to come up with a solution that won’t collapse the carefully built world around me.
“I had Arrow put a tracker in your bracelet, just in case,” Dante confesses, his voice a low murmur that sends shivers down my spine.
My chest tightens, his words carving hollow spaces within me as the conflicting emotions within start to churn—anger, hurt, confusion.
Dante’s admission feels like a betrayal. A breach of trust we so carefully tried to build. My stomach revolts, the taste of coffee now sour in my mouth, as I try to process the betrayal. I could expect a move like this from Dante. He’s always made clear he achieves his goals no matter the path of destruction. But Arrow? My Arrow, whom I’ve become so close with, has never been mine in the first place. They have worked for Dante all along. My gaze focuses on the bracelet once more, a supposed symbol of friendship and connection—which feels like a big fat joke now.
I look up, meeting Dante’s eyes, a mixture of remorse and determination behind the dark brown of his irises.
“I needed to make sure you were safe at all times, Alessa.” His words don’t ease the absolute mess of emotionsinside me. Releasing a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, I let the disappointment consume me. I’m not angry at Dante. I’m not angry at Arrow. They were both trying to protect me in their twisted way. The betrayal I’m feeling is of my own doing. I knew both Dante and Arrow have low morals, I should have expected they were working together, should have expected a move like that. And in the end, the tracker is what saved me.
“So, what,” I say bitterly, “you get an alert when I’m too far away?”
Dante reaches out over the island, his hand gently touching mine, there is a plea for understanding in his expression as I shrug my emotions away.
“Arrow must have been working late,” Dante starts, and just a mention of their name is making me wince. “Alessa, they really care for you.”
Swallowing, I try not to look away. Deep down inside, I know Arrow cares. Deep down, I know they’d never want to hurt me, yet the sense of betrayal lingers.
“They noticed your phone was in one place and the bracelet in another—”
“They were tracking my phone, too?” I shake my head, incredulous.
Dante bites his lip. “And neither location was my house, so they called me,” Dante continues, “and when I realised you weren’t beside me in bed. When I realised they weren’t joking.” His jaw tightens. “Baby, I nearly lost it.” His voice breaks. There’s pain and anguish on his face—like he’s feeling the emotions of that night again. The hurt in my chest loosens. “I’ve never moved as quickly in my entire life as when Arrow told me the location of your bracelet. I knew. I just knew.”
I squeeze Dante’s hand as his eyes soften with wetness at the edges.
“When I got to the house, I had the worst sense of deja vu, except this time I didn’t have to be quiet. I must have killed a dozen men before I managed to get upstairs. And you were—” he sucks in a breath. “I have never wanted to rip someone to shreds with my bare hands until I saw Nicolosi’s man on top of you,” he whispers. “You weren’t moving, blankly staring at the wardrobe I found you in, and I nearly broke there and then. I was convinced this was my payment for all the sins I have committed. That Karma has finally come to collect, I wanted to die, too. But then when I picked you up into my arms, you were breathing and my world came into focus. I had one mission—get you out of that godforsaken house.”
“Dante—”
“It was the same bedroom I killed your father in, Alessa. I did that. With my bare hands. A knife to his throat.”
I climb on top of the island and throw myself into his arms, hugging him tightly. I can’t be angry at him when he’s just been trying to save me. And I can’t be angry at Arrow, because if it weren’t for them I’d have probably been dead by now.
“I can’t promise you it’s the last of my secrets,” he murmurs into my hair. “But I will always tell you the truth when you ask.” He lifts my chin to face him, his thumb stroking my cheek as he brushes his lips against mine, a promise he’s determined not to break.
Hunger coils in my stomach as he deepens the kiss, his fingers digging into my hair. Then my stomach—the cock blocking bastard that it is—growls.
“Let me feed you breakfast,Fata,” Dante murmurs as he pulls away.
I so wish this was a euphemism for him feeding his cock into my mouth, but as he turns to take the bacon off the grillmy wish gets trashed. At least it gets trashed with something tasty.
With a sigh, I hop off the kitchen island and pad over to my hospital bag, curious to see if the pictures of my mum are somewhere inside. One of the nurses promised me she’d located the frame with my parents’ wedding photo. I know Dante would have it destroyed if he knew it was here, blaming the little frame for my injury. But the photo inside had nothing to do with it, and it’s the only thing I have left of my parents. With shaky fingers I pull out the frame, the glass that lodged into the side of my body missing. Miraculously the photo inside is intact, not even a spec of blood in the corner. I run my fingers down my mother’s body, my mind in turmoil over whether I should cut my father out of the picture. Then I remember the things he did and with shaky fingers I pry the picture out of the frame.
A folded letter falls onto my lap.
50
ROSA
Dearest Alessandro,
