CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Dante

“YOU SURE THIS is a good plan?” Sergio asked the next morning at breakfast. I’d gotten to their house at six am, early enough to talk with him before my sister woke up and late enough that I could spend the last few minutes of the morning in El’s bed.

“No.” I reached for my coffee. “But she can’t try with him if I’m constantly watching her, I’m still sparring with Chase on a regular basis, so I’ll be around enough to watch Mil and she’s so rarely home my time’s wasted watching her.”

“You need a car.” Sergio shrugged.

“You have twelve,” I snapped. “Literally.”

His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Yeah well I’m attached to them. All of them. Use some of that Nicolasi money and buy yourself something nice…” he lifted a shoulder, shrugging. “One that Mil hasn’t seen before.”

Realization hit. “You know my covers blown if she finds out I’m the one tailing her.”

“She already suspects. She’s not stupid,” Sergio said. “You laid out your hand quite nicely according to Frank that is. At dinner.”

I groaned. “Chase left me no choice.”

“Chase is between a rock and a hard place. One that I pray no one I love ever has to be placed in,” Sergio snapped.

Val walked into the room and stilled. “Dante? Is everything okay?” She frowned when she saw a small duffel bag. “Body or clothes?”

“It’s alarming that you ask that.” I eyed Sergio like it was his fault. “And I’m just staying for a week or so.” Until El leaves forever.

Until the temptation to beg her to stay passes.

Sleeping next to her.

After really tasting her.

Feeling her surrender in my arms.

It would be physically impossible to stay away.

And she deserved that.

A clean break.

For once I felt like I was doing the right thing.

Val yawned behind her hand. “Whatever, I need coffee, you have class today?”

She was wearing the tiniest shorts I’d ever seen and a tank top that barely covered her stomach.

I glared at Sergio again.

He smirked into his coffee.

I kicked him under the table.

He blocked my second kick.

Val turned around.

We broke apart like we hadn’t been fighting.

“One more favor.” I stood. “Put me as far away from your guy’s room as humanly possible, I’m not even opposed to sleeping outside with noise canceling headphones on.”

Sergio rolled his eyes. “Chin up, man, she’s not that loud.”

I cupped my ears while Val shot Sergio an irritated look then smacked him on the back of the head.

He let her.

Then grinned up at me.

I removed my hands. “We good? No more sex talk?”

“Easy.” Sergio shrugged. “We don’t talk about it because we’re actually having it, unlike some people.”

I growled out in frustration and reached for my keys. “Thanks for the… idea.”

“Anytime.” He checked his watch then jerked his head toward the door. “Take Chase with you, he knows cars.”

“Won’t he tell her I got a new car?”

“Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Damn mafia,” I grumbled as I walked out the door and made my way to Nixon’s Benz.

It was nice.

Like all of his cars.

But it wasn’t me.

I grinned in excitement.

A year ago, I’d had no idea how much money I had to my name.

And now that I knew — the millions that were left to Phoenix, and the millions Luca asked him to save for me and Val.

It was humbling.

And staggering.

To think that while celebrities were hanging out in their private yachts thinking they were living the dream.

I knew, I could buy ten of them, and still not feel it.

The thought made me smile until I stopped and looked at the messenger bag still in Nixon’s car.

El.

Shit.

What was money, when you had nobody to share it with?

And suddenly car shopping felt very, very, stupid.

 

 

“YOU’RE KIDDING, RIGHT?” Chase was still fighting me over my choice. “You said no to the Range Rover, no to the Benz, and said that the Bugatti looked like a space ship, there’s no hope for you man.”

“I liked the G-Wagon.”

He crossed his arms like he was upset that I picked out an SUV instead of the Maybach he’d basically licked ten minutes ago.

“You know, you can get a new car, Chase,” I teased. “It’s not like you don’t have loads and loads of Abandonato money.”

He flipped me off, then his smile fell. “No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Mil,” was all he said.

I waited.

He cursed and then kicked the front tire of the G wagon I was in the process of purchasing. “How much do you know about the De Langes?”

“Enough to know that they’ve done anything and everything to rebuild their wealth and up until Mil, they were the most hated family in the Cosa Nostra.”

“Still are,” Chase added. “She tried, I’d like to think she tried really hard to right all the wrongs — but you can’t create miracles without money. The only money she has is mine.”

“You won’t give it to her?” I knew I was pushing, the conversation they’d had a few nights back was eerily similar to this.

My thoughts went to the pantry.

To El.

Focus.

“She won’t let me.”

My head snapped in his direction. “If you have money to give her, millions in fact, why not take it and use it?”

“She did.” He licked his lips. “At first, and then she just stopped, said that it made the men uneasy knowing that they owed the Abandonatos a favor… she wanted to do it all herself. It was commendable, is commendable. So I let her.”

“When was this?”

“We were in New York at the time searching for you and Val, nine months ago, give or take a few months. Does it matter?” Chase swallowed and looked down at the ground. “That the minute I said yes, the minute I agreed, I lost a part of the woman I loved to the world I hate.”

“Shit.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Chase, this isn’t over.”

“I know that.” He met my gaze. “Because I’m still alive, and so is she.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I have a bad feeling. I’m saying I don’t know what the fuck to do. I’m saying that if there’s any way—” He looked away. “I won’t tell her about your new car.”

I closed my eyes.

“I didn’t want this, Chase.”

“Who does?” He said simply.

“And if—”

“Don’t tell me.”

Our salesman, someone else that was in our pocket, walked toward me with paperwork.

“I’m gonna go drive Nixon’s car home for you.”

“Chase,” I called at him.

He finally stopped walking and turned. “Yeah?”

“You’re a good man.”

“I wish I was better,” was all he said as he got into his car. Something had changed in his demeanor, like he was preparing for a war he knew he wouldn’t survive.

Like he’d already accepted his fate.

And wasn’t happy with it.