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And she’s with Alfio Altiere.
22
EMMA
All night, it’s been all I could do not to panic.
I left to escape all of this, and I’m being dragged right back into it. Worse, I’m being forced into exactly the scenario that I ran away from Dante to avoid—being trapped by a mafia don who expects me to cater to his version of what his woman should be and say and do. I had feared what Dante’s expectations of me might be. But they would never have been anything like what Altiere expects.
He ran down the list before we left. I’m expected to be friendly, but silent. Affectionate with him, but not clingy. Whatever manners I have, he told me to make sure to utilize them. It was clear that he thinks of me as nothing more than trash—not good enough for him or anyone else in his circle—but good enough to use against Dante. And in keeping with that goal, he was also very clear that I’m not, at any point, to leave his side.
I wanted to ask him what I was expected to do if I needed to go to the ladies’ room, but I thought it might be better not to aggravate him. Not when I need to try to get him to let down his guard enough that I can find a moment to talk to Dante.
I’m not at all prepared for how I feel the moment that we step through the doors, and Iseehim.
He looks every bit as handsome as I remember, in a carefully tailored suit, clean-shaven, with his dark hair styled smoothly away from his face. His green gaze meets mine, and I feel my heart race.
It’s as if no time has passed at all. It could have been just yesterday that I was in his penthouse, in his bed, letting him touch me in ways that I never even fantasized about. I feel a wave of longing, the urge to pull free of Altiere’s grasp and run across the room to Dante, into his arms.
I very nearly do. And then Altiere tightens his grip on me. “Don’t even think about it,” he murmurs. “You might be able to save yourself and your baby if you do, but will you be able to warn your friend in time? I don’t think so.”
My stomach tightens, and I freeze. I don’t know the answer to that—there’s every possibility that Dante would be able to do something about it, but I have no idea what Altiere has in place. There’s also every chance that Abby would pay for the fact that I ran from Dante in the first place.
All of this could have been avoided if I stayed.
Or maybe not. Maybe Altiere would have always come after me, as a means of getting to Dante. Maybe the mistake was ever getting involved at all.
There’s no way of knowing for sure—and no way of going back now. I’m not certain that I would even if I could.
I don’t know if I could bear to lose all of the memories Dante and I made together.
The look on his face when he sees me is shocked at first, and then pained. A knot of guilt forms in my stomach—even though I’m not here of my own free will, Dante doesn’t know that. For all he knows, I ran from him and went to Altiere—although why I would have done that, I can’t possibly fathom.
The man next to Dante grabs his arm, murmuring something to him, but Dante shakes him off. A moment later, he starts to stride towards Altiere and me, a grim look on his face.
“Emma.” There’s a note of something that almost sounds like panic in his voice, hidden well enough that I think only I pick up on it. “What are you doing here? What happened—where have you been?”
Altiere’s hand on my arm tightens, enough to remind me to keep silent. I grit my teeth, furious at being told what to do—but his threats towards Abby echo in the back of my mind. I have no idea how imminent those threats are—if something is poised to happen if I take even a step out of place.
I wouldn’t put it past him, based on what I’ve seen so far.
I bite my lip and say nothing.
Dante stares at me. “Emma. Why won’t you talk to me? Em—” His gaze snaps up, narrowing in on Altiere. “You son of a bitch. How aboutyoutell me what’s going on, before—”
“Careful.” Altiere smiles thinly. “You wouldn’t want to make a scene, would you?”
“You don’t know what asceneis, compared to what I’ll do if you don’t take your hands off of her,” Dante snarls. “You fucking—”
“Hm. Threats to another don, in public, at a gala where you represent one of the Sicilian families.” Altiere clicks his tongue. “I imagine Don Fontana would have all sorts of opinions about that. And as much as you care about this girl, I think you care about your family more. Especially that sweet sister of yours. I saw her as she was coming in. Very beautiful.”
Dante’s jaw tightens, and I can see the rage flickering across his face. For the first time, I understand it. It’s the same anger I felt when I realized the position Altiere put me in, when I understood that he had drugged and kidnapped me and put my child in danger. And for the first time, I don’t feel so afraid of Dante’s anger.
If anything, I feel almost hopeful because of it.
It might be the only thing that saves us.
“Don’t say another word about my sister,” Dante grits out, but Altiere’s smile only broadens. It’s clear that he thinks he has the upper hand in this, but I’m not so sure that’s true. The look on Dante’s face is one of a man who is hanging on by the barest of threads.
