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"What abilities are we speaking of?" Dante asked.
His father leaned back in his chair, his hand steepled on his stomach. "The skills you have in the streets. I'll admit that I think you've wasted them in your pseudo-crime fighting, but if we honed them in, you could be an excellent hitman."
"You knew what I was doing?" he asked carefully.
"I did. Did you think Ricardo was the only one with eyes on you?" He chuffed. "Of course not. It was only when you were back here that I let that tail go. Should have kept him around, though. Then he could have given me better intel about the timing of this."
"Better intel?" I questioned; my voice rough from biting my tongue.
He grinned as he extended a hand to the side. A secret door opened, revealing Stasia, her eyes glowing as she came into view. She pointed the pistol in her hand at me.
"Drop it," she demanded.
I shook my head. "Not happening. Tell me what the fuck is going on."
Dante remained still, his eyes bouncing between the two of them. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was. How had this happened?'
His father stood from his desk and walked around to our side. "You both look confused, so I'll help paint the picture."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DANTE
What the ever-loving fuckinghell was happening?
Stasia was on our side. She was Pharrell's wife, his business partner. I'd hung out with her enough times to know she was solid.
Yet I couldn’t deny what I was seeing with my own eyes. She stood beside my father proudly, her stance comfortable and confident.
None of it made sense.
"Stasia?" I asked as I fisted my hands on my legs.I was afraid to move lest I dash across the room to tear into the two of them. It had been too long since the monster in me was able to roam free. It wanted nothing more than to be set free so we could let loose some of this rage we felt.
Preacher still stood behind me like a guard ready to protect me at whatever cost. Yet he was unprotected and a big fucking target. I swore on all that was holy that if they hurt him, I'd unleash The Monster on this fucking city and burn everything in it. I wouldn't spare a single soul.
"Yes, Dante? Don't tell me you didn't see this one coming? It'll be so cliche,” Stasia drawled out slowly, like I was some child who couldn’t possibly understand the meaning of being double-crossed.
I shook my head. "How can you expect me to say anything else?! You were fucking my father and fucking us over. That is all so very goddamn cliche as you put it.”
Preacher’s hand moved to my shoulder, his touch firm. I didn't know if he was trying to calm me down or simply keep me in my seat. It didn't matter since it had the effect of cooling my anger enough to keep me steady. I was still fucking furious at this turn of events, but I knew we had backup on the way.
And even if Stasia told him who was coming, there was no way he'd walk out of here alive. No matter if I had to die with him, my father’s time was up. He'd meet death, just like he deserved.
"You could accept that this is where this ends. Your desire to take down your father, to live this sinful life, is all so... so..." For the first time in my life, I watched as Domenico Romano became lost for words.
Stasia interrupted him. “Appalling is the word you're looking for, my love."
My father kissed her neck affectionately, like the two of them weren't in the middle of a war and nearly out of time. It was sickening to watch. Not because I much cared for either of them, but because I hated that they’d tried to make a fool of me.
Trust wasn’t easy in our line of work. People were always out to get you, either because they wanted your power or because they felt like you didn’t deserve the position you’ve been given. For myself, I knew early on it would be a problem for me to trust others.
And then I met Preacher. He showed me that trust could be given to others. He taught me that not everyone was a bad person and that I could learn to open up to others.
Funny how things changed over time. I’d trusted Pharrell and Stasia to be a part of the team. I’d thought them to be like Preacher, loyal to a fault and ready to have my back.
Seemed like only one of them was truly reliable.
I didn’t doubt Pharrell had no clue about his wife’s transgressions. He wouldn’t have played along with it all this time had he known. Though they weren’t intimate in all ways, theirs was a business arrangement turned marriage turned friendship.
