I hoped he meant figuratively.
Dante tensed behind me, his forehead pressed against the back of my skull like he’d heard enough and was too frustrated to keep listening.
“I know.” Mil sniffed. I’d never seen the woman cry. “I’m just… this is my only shot, and I want you guys to be proud of me, can’t you see that I need to do this on my own?”
Something hit the ground and made a noise before Chase sighed. “Mil, I love you. Whatever you ask — it’s yours, just promise me you’ll be safe.”
“I had my gun.”
“And your knives?”
“I invested in another one, sharper, sexier—”
With a groan, Chase started kissing her.
There was no mistaking what they were doing.
I half expected Dante to cover my ears, instead it just made me… want.
Exactly what they had.
Dante’s breath hitched when something else went flying onto the ground and Mil’s moans filled the air along with the rustle of clothing.
I should have been embarrassed.
I wasn’t.
I also should have coughed so they’d know we were listening.
My heart raced as Dante’s breathing picked up behind me.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus on anything but the way that Chase spoke to Mil, with dirty words, promises, things that turned my insides to mush.
I’d never been spoken to that way before.
“How the hell did you get a knife wound on your thigh?” Chase moaned. ‘Never mind, don’t care, just don’t get infected — son of — yeah just like that, baby.” More clothing, and then, “Grip the countertop, yeah, love seeing your ass in my face.”
Mil laughed. “Chase, your tongue shouldn’t — yeah, yeah right there, don’t stop, I still have my knife.”
“Like I care.”
My chest heaved as I pushed back into Dante, like I needed to creep further into the shadow of the pantry.
He hissed out a curse in my ear, almost stumbling backward, and then grabbed my body and held on.
He felt.
Solid.
All man.
I gulped and prayed he couldn’t hear my heart race, or read my mind, and the way that my thoughts lingered on our kiss or the way I could feel him trying to control his arousal.
With each noise.
He clutched me tighter.
I squeezed my eyes shut and bit down on my lip until I could taste blood.
And then they were done.
Gone.
And I was so awake it felt like I’d just taken a handful of chocolate covered espresso beans.
Dante’s hands flexed as he gripped my hips. “Wait.”
I hung my head as his fingers danced up my sides, grazing my ribs, toying with my shirt, until they both slipped beneath my tank top.
I froze.
And a miracle occurred.
His hands, the hands of a killer.
Felt like the hands of a savior.
It wasn’t death I felt on his skin.
It was something else entirely.
Life.
I arched into him, felt his lips graze my neck before he sighed and dropped his hands, without once touching me without permission.
“Let’s go.” His voice was hoarse as he grabbed my hand and led me quietly down the hall.
He stopped at my room first.
I wanted him to come in.
And felt weak for wanting anything from a man who wanted nothing from me even when it was offered on a silver platter.
Russian. Whore. That’s all I was.
But for one second.
Dante had touched me like I was — more.
His eyes roamed over me before he sighed and hung his head. “Night, El.”
I closed my door and locked it, then eyed the shared bathroom and without a second thought, unlocked the door and opened it a crack.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dante
THERE WAS NO chance in hell I could sleep after touching her smooth skin, after being so close to doing something there would be no coming back from.
The more I tried to hate her.
The more hate somehow turned into want.
Which was one of the worst ideas I’d ever had, I blamed the adrenaline from the fight and the fact that tomorrow at school — things were going to be different.
I’d killed one of their own.
Sat on their pathetic throne.
Basically showed them their asses and was given a meeting time before classes. Which basically meant I was in.
I just didn’t know what I was in.
Which meant the guys owed me an explanation because rather than get in trouble for fighting again, for getting in over my head, they basically welcomed me into the fold and gave me equal footing with family voting.
I ran my hands over my face, just as the sound of a lock turning had me jerking my attention to the bathroom.
I always left my door open.
Not because I was afraid of locked doors.
But because I heard her nightmares every night since she’d moved in with Nixon. And every night, a part of me wanted nothing more than to slay whatever monster haunted her and send him back into Hell.
But her door was shut.
So she wrestled with her demons alone while I listened.
Not tonight.
I turned on my side, my eyes focused on her door like a trained soldier, I kept them open, watching, waiting for her to fall asleep.
Because something told me that she was the only soldier in a one-woman army.
And it was about time someone helped her out — even if that someone was her new enemy.
Friends?
That was just the word she used to unarm me.
What she meant was, she wanted to keep me close unless all things went to Hell. She didn’t want my friendship, and that stung more than it should.
But protection? She knew she could get.
I really shouldn’t have kissed her.
Touched her.
Wanted her.
I was doing a lot of things I swore I’d never do, including purposefully losing much needed sleep so that I could guard her door — so she wouldn’t have to.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dante
“WELL YOU LOOK like complete shit,” Chase said as he took a sip of coffee.
“And you look like you got laid,” I fired back.
He choked on his coffee while I stared at the counter. “Tell me you disinfected every single area on this side of the kitchen.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you didn’t watch me give my wife a—”
I held up my hands. “I didn’t see, I heard.”
“Whole damn house heard.” Nixon glared from his spot on the table, I hadn’t even noticed him. “And Trace already disinfected all spaces that could have seen and or touched Chase’s penis.”
“Thank God.”
Chase smirked. “I know she did when I—”
“Not before breakfast,” Nixon interrupted while I pulled out a chair at the table and started piling my plate high full of eggs, bacon, and toast.
“So,” Nixon scooted a mug toward me and filled it high with pure black goodness. “You ready for today?”
I shrugged. “Not really sure what I’m ready for… since you guys won’t tell me shit.”
Chase sat down on my other side. “Think of it like this, those guys run the school, but it’s more than that. If it was just some pricks with power trips we’d be okay with it — we, being the Abandonatos, since we own the school.”
“But they’re clearly killing students for shits and giggles,” I said over the steam billowing out of my cup. “And clearly they’re related to Petrov.”
“Andrei is his last remaining son — twenty-one, enrolled the minute he found out that we killed his informant, Xavier.”
El’s ex-husband.
Tyrant.
Idiot.
r /> I balled my hands into tight fists as my blood roared for justice.
“It’s not just that,” Nixon re-filled his coffee cup. “They’re trying to make a show that the Italians are out — they’re trying to build up their own sad pathetic little Chicago gang, just like the one in New York.”
“Shit.” I suddenly wasn’t so hungry. “That’s… great news.”
“Most of Petrov’s money was seized during the FBI raid last year. Nikolai helped us rain hell and they’ve sworn retribution ever since. Up until now they’ve lacked the money to do it,” Chase chimed in. “And yet somehow, operations started again on the East Coast, they’re selling anything and everything, getting in large shipments from Mexico and Canada and here’s the really fun part, they’re distributing to the student body.”
A headache pulse behind my ears. “So they’ve continued operations even though there technically is no leader except for a twenty-one-year-old shit that thinks he can build his own army by giving people free drugs and putting students who aren’t tough enough in body bags? Did I miss anything?”
Nixon shrugged like it was a normal Tuesday. “It’s all the intel we have.”
Chase stood. “It’s our city.”
“Damn right it is.” Nixon swore. “I want them wiped out.”
My eyebrows shot up. “And when you say wiped out—”
“Let me be very clear.” Nixon’s nostrils flared. “I would like you to infiltrate their pathetic little gang, gain their trust, do whatever you have to do like you did last night and pick them off one by fucking one. Got it?”
I shrugged and took a long sip of coffee. “Consider it done.”
Nixon hung his head then sat back into his chair like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, then again as boss, he probably did.
It was why I never wanted the job.
Why I was pissed that I was even up for it.
Because the only reason I was back in Chicago was to be groomed to take over the family that my father should have taken over — but didn’t.
The Alferos.
My name said Nicolasi.
Just like my father’s name said Nicolasi.
But before he was ever part of that crime family.
He and his brother Frank, led the Alferos.
They were in love with the same woman.
And because Frank messed up in the biggest way possible — he gave his wife up — to his brother, the woman he loved.
And when you love someone, kids soon follow, right?
Disgusted I shoved my plate of food away. “What about El?”
Nixon frowned. “What about her?”
“She’s at school, she’s going to know something’s going on.”
“She’s smart.” Nixon nodded slowly. “So your best bet, is to make sure that when it comes to picking sides — she’s on ours.”
“How long until someone…” I couldn’t even get it out. “Until Phoenix finds someone—”
“This week,” Chase interrupted. “We’re getting a little visit from our favorite cousins, yay,” his words dripped with sarcasm. “Look, it blows that we have to do it this way, but that’s the mafia, she either goes back to the Russians and dies, or stays under our protection and marries someone who will at least let her live her life.”
“That’s not life.” I clenched my teeth.
“No,” Nixon said after a pause. “But it’s the best we can do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
El
DANTE WANTED TO drive us to school.
I didn’t have the strength to argue, I was still exhausted even though I’d somehow had the best sleep I’d ever had in my entire life. I had dreams of Dante putting a blanket over me when I got cold, and the dream shifted into something more heated that had me tangled in my sheets and sweaty. And most of all confused about what it meant.
“I have somewhere to be this morning,” Dante said in his usual indifferent yet always chilly tone. “I’ll meet you after class.”
I gulped and looked out the window. “Are you meeting them? The guys from last night?”
Silence.
I tried again. “What if it’s four against one? What if they want to hurt you?”
“Then I’ll hurt them right back.” He oozed confidence as he maneuvered the car through the open iron gates.
I should have expected that sort of answer.
“Okay,” I said once we parked.
I reached for my messenger bag just as Dante cursed under his breath.
The guys were waiting for us.
I kept my expression blank.
“They touch you, you let me handle it. Everything I’m about to say is going to be a lie, understand?”
“How will I know when you’re telling the truth,” I fired back before grabbing the handle to the door.
He shoved the keys in his pocket and grabbed my arm, twisting me back in my seat until I was pressed against the soft leather, his face inches from mine.
“I will never lie to your face.” He blinked slowly, his cool blue eyes assessing. “My only tell, is that if I lie to you, I look below your eyes, above your eyes, near your eyes,” he touched one side of my face. “And I might even look through your eyes, but I will never look at the soul behind them. You’ll know I’m lying because I won’t be speaking to your soul, El.”
He jerked away and opened the car door.
I let out a rough exhale and followed.
All four guys stood with an equal distance of space between them. The Eagle Elite uniforms looked foreign on them.
Black pants.
White button-down shirts with an eagle insignia on the pocket, with sleeves rolled up past their elbows and no jackets.
I wondered if the reason they made us wear white was so the staff could see blood easier.
I kept my head high as Andrei, gave me a once over and winked.
“Do that again,” Dante said in a low voice. “And you won’t like the results.”
One of the guys to Andrei’s right snickered only to get smacked in the chest by Andrei.
“We didn’t get a chance to speak last night,” Andrei said, his eyes roamed over me as if he had every right to look. He was attractive, some may even way hot, but his eyes were cold, and I knew what it was like to share a bed with someone who had no soul.
They screwed you in order to steal yours.
They were men who liked to have woman beneath them.
Men who found their power in making others feel weak.
They weren’t men at all. They were monsters.
Dante reached out and gripped my hand in his, it was so unexpected I sucked in a sharp breath then squeezed back.
“Didn’t know we actually needed introductions.” Dante spoke with deceptive calm. “I kicked your friend’s ass, then sent him to Hell right along with—” he stopped himself. “Never mind, I’m sure it’s still a very sensitive subject.”
Andrei’s jaw flexed. “You think you can say such things to me?”
His accent came through, just enough for me to want to run in the other direction.
“How does it feel…” Dante smirked. “To have a target on your back?”
“Ask your father,” he spat. “Oh, wait.”
Dante squeezed the life out of my fingers.
“It seems…” Andrei tiled his head. “…that we both have reasons for wanting revenge, hmm?”
I mentally willed Dante to calm the hell down. His other tell was silence, and it was more terrifying than his words.
Silence meant he was thinking of all of the ways he could manipulate you — hurt you. I knew his silence well, not because it had ever been directed toward me, but because I watched him direct it toward Ike last night.
And that hadn’t ended well.
“Yes,” Dante hissed. “It looks like we both have the same reason to hate…”
“The only question is; are you my enemy or my friend?”
“The enemy of my enemy is my
friend.” He shrugged. “Or so it should appear, right?”
Andrei’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me, Nicolasi. Where do you stand?”
“Right in front of you.” Dante finally grinned. “You think I’d be here? You think I’d kill someone in cold blood for you, then turn on you?”
Andrei seemed to relax at that, he held out his hand. Dante shook it with his free hand and released his grip on mine.
Andrei nodded to the other guys. “This is Klaus.” He had an almost completely shaved head and a tattoo peeking out of his shirt near his right ear. I shivered.
“Maksim,” Another guy nodded at us, he looked like he’d rather be shopping, his shirt was so tight it looked uncomfortable, and he was wearing sunglasses like he was a movie star in hiding.
“And finally, little Ivan.”
Ivan wasn’t little.
Ivan was… stocky.
Around five ten and packing enough muscle to probably disarm someone by sitting on their chest.
“Now you know our names.” Andrei shrugged. “That’s how friendship works, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Andrei turned his attention to me. I took a step toward Dante, he didn’t put a protective arm around me, instead he stood as still as a statue while Andrei took one step, then two until he was in my personal space.
“And your name?”
I assumed he already knew.
He’d seen my tattoo.
He saw who owned me.
But that was the thing about the Russian mafia. My husband was killed in cold blood, which meant I was nobody’s.
Because nobody had claimed me.
Yet.
I gulped.
“You know exactly who I am, Andrei Petrov.”
I said his full name on purpose.
I’d met him once.
My eyes had been swollen nearly shut from a beating.
And he’d laughed and told my husband at the time to do whatever he could to keep me silent. Loyal. Heartless.