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He didn’t recognize me with his flashlight? I mean, I know I was new to the world after being hidden away all these years, but doesn’t the guy read the online news? Watch some television?
“You’re free to go.” He handed the card back to me.
Before I rolled up the window, Sienna and I watched him stroll back to his police cruiser in the side view mirrors, with no flashing lights in sight. We sat there in silence, staring straight ahead while still trying to catch our breath.
And then she started laughing. Which only made me laugh. Sienna’s eyes teared up, her hands clutching her stomach as she belted it all out.
“God, I feel like such a teenager right now,” she said finally, wiping away the stray tears. “What the hell, Dante.”
“Oh, so now you’re going to blame me?” I scoffed. “You’re the one who steamed up the windows, sugar cakes.”
Sienna rolled her eyes, trying to straighten her bra again. “Are you happy now? You know that cop will go back and tell everyone about this.” She groaned. “I’ll never fucking live this down. If Mateo hears about this—”
“If anyone says a fucking word, I’ll kill them.” She glanced up at me in surprise, her face asking if I was joking. I wasn’t. “You’re my wife. Nobody gets to slut-shame you. And nobody sure as hell gets to talk about your sexual endeavors.”
She turned away, but not before I caught the small smile slipping across her face. I started the car again, pulling away from the curb. Our world might be on the verge of collapsing, and our positions might be threatened by some murderous ghost, but right then, it really did feel like we were teenagers again. Sienna kept glancing at me as I drove, and I pretended not to notice. That adorable blush on her cheeks still hadn’t receded, and I hoped it would stay. If not, I’d get her to do it again just so I could see it spread across her cheeks.
As I turned onto our street, the past hour churning through my mind, it hit me then—I really did mean what I said about killing anyone who dared speak badly about her. But not because she was my wife.
It was because I was starting to fall in love with her.
FIFTEEN
DANTE
For the first time since the vote, I woke up beside Sienna in our bed. Her back was to me, hair splayed across the pillow. For a minute, I just watched her. At first, the revelation last night about how I was starting to feel for her had scared me. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
Sienna was my equal in every way, the queen I wanted to stand beside me when we took over New York City. She was intelligent, strong, and cunning. She was everything I’d want in a wife, but I had no idea how she really felt. She’d been forced into a marriage she didn’t want, to an enemy she’d been taught to hate her whole life. Every single sexual interaction with her had felt more like a war than making love. I’m sure she had never been the type to fantasize about her marriage, but I knew she wasn’t expecting this.
Besides, it would be safer if we didn’t have feelings for each other. Those would only make our lives that much more dangerous, more difficult. If I loved Sienna, she could always be used against me and vice versa. With her already inheriting her father’s title and my future with the Scarano family, neither of us could afford to lose control. But that’s exactly how she made me feel.
When I was around her, I wanted to lose control. I wanted to shed this charming, responsible weight on my shoulders and just be…me. But I couldn’t. Not right now. Not with our lives on the line and danger lurking around every corner. I had to be the Dante my father had shaped and molded. Not the Dante that could love freely without any fear of losing.
Forcing myself out of bed, I grabbed the remaining clean clothes from my suitcase that I definitely needed to unpack sometime soon. I hadn’t thought we’d be here at Sienna’s family home for this long. I’d thought the issue with the Snake would be resolved soon, but clearly, I was mistaken. It looked like we would be here for a while with Sienna’s round-the-clock security and to keep an eye on her mother.
Speaking of mothers…I was already almost late to meet mine. I’d nearly forgotten about agreeing to get coffee with her this morning until she texted me the location late last night. I should have guessed where we would go. We’d been there countless times before together.
The cafe my mother had texted me about was just a few minutes from the first apartment we moved into together after our wedding. I’d nearly forgotten all about it between Giovanni’s death and the explosion at the docks. I made a mental note to talk to Sienna about leasing it out. If we weren’t going to live there, we might as well make some extra income off of it.
I parked the car along the street, paying the meter. Today, I wasn’t in the mood to go parking garage hunting and was willing to risk my car for just an hour or so while I met with my mother. It had been a while since we last talked, and I honestly did miss her. She’d been the one stable thing in my life—the one person I knew to count on for love and kindness. She was the only reason why I hadn’t totally lost it all these years, my anchor.
Picasso’s was a small cafe that also served as a book shop as well, which is why my mother loved it as much as she did. It had been around since I was a kid, and I still remember her taking me there. I had to go separately with a nanny, but we’d still make it special. Now, though, I didn’t have to hide anymore. I could walk into that cafe and sit with my own mother without worrying about my father’s anger or disapproval. It was…freeing.
I stood on the sidewalk across the street, waiting for a break in traffic. Picasso’s was a simple brownstone with apartments just above it. The shutters and awning were dark green. It was cozy and quaint, with the cafe’s name written on the window panes in white. Despite how small it was, it wasn’t obscure. Located on one of the busiest side streets, Picasso’s welcomed everyone from university students to businessmen who liked to enjoy their coffee breaks away from the office.
The only problem with this place? It belonged to the Rosania family. Well, technically, the owners of the shop paid their dues to the Rosania. My mother knew, but she loved it so much that it never really bothered her, and no one explicitly banned her from going every other day when she wasn’t busy with the house. I actually think the owners loved her just as much as she loved their store.
“Dante!” I glanced down the sidewalk as my mother called my name. She was on the opposite side, having been dropped off by one of my father’s drivers.
I waved and started to cross. She met me at the door, already reaching for me.
“Amore mio, I’ve missed you,” she said, hand cupping my face.
“You just saw me last night, mama,” I joked.
“Smettila!” She slapped my chest lightly. “You know what I mean. I thought I’d be seeing you a lot more now that you’ve graduated, but it’s just the opposite.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to make more time to see you,” I promised.
