KARINA
It had been four days, fifteen hours, and twenty-two minutes since I stormed out of Lorik’s apartment. Yes, I was that pathetic.
He hadn’t texted, or messaged, or tried to make any kind of contact with me, which was probably a good thing. Then why am I checking my phone every ten minutes?
Every morning when I woke up, my phone was the first thing I reached for, only to be disappointed at the lack of messages received—or rather, from whom. There was no explanation why I felt the way I did. I was the one who stormed out of his apartment feeling hurt and betrayed. I was the one who couldn’t stand to look at him for a second longer without feeling like my heart was being ripped in two. But what bothered me most was that I felt that way, and that I reacted the way I did.
I knew he was a cop who investigated my family. It wasn’t like he hid that little tidbit of information from me. He summoned me to the goddamn station and let me wait for him in the interrogation room for fuck knew how long. It wasn’t exactly a state fucking secret he had his claws out for my family. It wasn’t like I went into our little—I wasn’t even sure what you’d call it. Two-night fling? Weekend fuck buddies? It definitely was not a relationship, since it didn’t even last seventy-two hours. But it wasn’t like I went into it completely blind. I knew Lorik was investigating my family, and I still ended up with him between my legs. I had no one to blame but myself. The giant fucking hole inside my chest was all because I longed for a man who I knew was off limits right from the start.
I thought I could handle it. I thought I had my big girl panties on and had it all under control. But seeing how deep Lorik’s obsession in bringing down my family went hit me like a damn wrecking ball. When I searched for one of his shirts, I did not expect to find a cabinet filled with pictures and information regarding every member of my family. All those pictures of me, taken without my consent or knowledge, forced such a strong sense of betrayal inside my chest that I struggled to take a breath. But it wasn’t only the betrayal, it was that I had once again managed to get myself in one fucked-up situation where my actions had the potential to hurt my family. What the hell is wrong with me?
I took a sip of my Negroni cocktail at—I glanced at the old grandfather clock in the corner—two in the afternoon. Lucky for me, my family owned this damn restaurant, and no one who worked in Paradiso would question my motivation for drinking a cocktail this time of day.
“It’s a bit early for you, isn’t it?”
Except Dante.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. According to whose standards, mine or yours?”
He took a seat next to me at the bar and eyed my cocktail. “Negroni. Gin. That’s some hard liquor.”
I ignored him and took another sip.
“Everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He held up his hand, signaling to the bartender to give him one of his usual—bourbon. “Maybe it’s because you’re not a big drinker, and you hardly ever come down to the restaurant.”
I placed my empty glass on the counter. “Or maybe I’m just not a big drinker according to you, and maybe I finally realized my life isn’t family-orientated enough, so I decided to surround my whole goddamn world with everything Valenti, including my breakfast, lunch, and fucking dinner.”
“Whoa,” Dante held up his arms, “where did that come from?”
Paolo, the bartender, placed a new cocktail in front of me like he could read my fucking mind.
“Thanks.” My heart was pounding so damn fast, my anger levels bordering on explosive, hence why I downed more than half of my new cocktail.
“Karina, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. Everything is just goddamn peachy.” I hate my life.
Dante turned in his seat to face me. “Does this have anything to do with that cop?”
My gaze snapped up to his, and I narrowed my eyes. “What cop?”
He laughed, but it wasn’t an amused laugh. It was more like an I-call-bullshit laugh. “You know exactly what cop I’m referring to. Detective Stone, the guy who face planted Enzio against the wall.” He cocked a brow. “And also the guy you spent last Saturday night with.”
Right at that moment, I took a sip of my cocktail and almost choked to death. I grabbed the red and white checkered napkin and cleaned my face. “Oh, my God.”
Dante weaved his fingers together in front of him, staring at me like I was a child who got caught in the act.
“There’s no use in denying it. Unless you forgot, you took my fucking car, and I happen to have GPS in that baby.”
Oh, fuck me.
“Which brings me to the topic of why Antonio decided to fuck up the immaculate paint job by punching dents in my car.”
See, this was why I should have left Monday. I tried to. I was packed and everything, until my dad came into my bedroom and begged me to stay, saying they missed having me around. He was still busy giving me the speech he had probably prepared for a week when I started unpacking my suitcase again. I might not have seen eye to eye with my father, but I loved him.
I huffed in frustration and pulled my hair out of my face. “Dante, what do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything. I just want you to stop moping around like you’ve been doing the last few days. Is it because of him?”
“Who?”
“The cop.”
Silence.
“Dante—”
“Did he hurt you?” He straightened like he was already readying himself to go on the warpath.
“Oh, my God!” I threw my hands in the air. “Why is everyone so worried about me getting hurt?”
“Because we care about you and don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I let out a maniacal laugh. “You and Antonio should start realizing I’m an adult, and I’m a woman. I’m bound to get hurt sometimes. Everyone gets hurt.”
Dante stared at me like he was trying to figure me out, trying to assess my mood.
I scowled at him. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
I waved my hand in front of his face. “That whole trying to see right through me thing.”
He snorted. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, right.”
What felt like hours, but was probably seconds, passed without either of us saying a word. But I felt Dante’s gaze on me the entire time. It was burning a fucking hole in the side of my head.
“You told Antonio, didn’t you? About Enzio?”
I hung my head in defeat, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol I’d consumed for the last hour. “Yes, Dante. I told him.”
He turned back toward the bar. “Well, that explains the foul fucking mood he’s been in the last week. Last Saturday when you drove off with my car,” he glared at me, “he got into his car and left.”
“Where did he go?”
Dante shrugged. “Beats me. He came back four hours later smelling like cheap whiskey and even cheaper women.”
As if I needed to feel any guiltier. Antonio’s bad mood was because of me, because of my damn problems.
I glanced around the restaurant. “Where is he now?”
“He went straight through to the back office. Didn’t even make his usual rounds greeting everyone.” Dante took a sip of his drink. “So, how did he take it?”
“He wants to kill Enzio.” I said it like it was no big deal. It’s a big fucking deal.
“I don’t blame him. I’ve wanted to kill that son of a bitch for the last four years.”
I glanced around the restaurant. The lunchtime rush hadn’t passed yet, plus it was Friday, so chances were it was only going to get busier. Paradiso wasn’t one of those grand Italian restaurants where you were too afraid to breathe, let alone eat. Decorated in typical Italian style with red, green, and white being the main color scheme, it had a homey atmosphere—especially with the smell of oregano and basil always hanging in the air. The reason I didn’t come here much was because of all the eyes and ears of the customers in this place. Customers were always extra polite to me, treating me like fucking royalty, and I hated it. I hated it because I knew it was fake. Their friendliness had nothing to do with my pretty face and the friendly atmosphere of the restaurant, but everything to do with who my father was.
Was it too much to ask to just be me, and to be treated normally?
Dante glanced at me. “Talk to me, Karina.”
“There’s nothing to say that hasn’t been said in the past. I’m sick of having to live my life around the whole Valenti legacy in this town.” I leaned back in my chair and stared blankly in front of me. Dante and I had this discussion so many times in the past because he felt exactly the same. He just handled it better than I did. Plus, he didn’t have a vagina, which in this case totally worked in his favor.
“Tell me about the cop.” He kept pushing. He knew I’d crack eventually…like now.
“It just happened, Dante. We couldn’t stop it.” My words came out flat and broken.
“Damn.” He leaned back in his seat. “I saw it at Vertigo.”
I looked up at him. “Saw what?”
“The intense chemistry between you two. You’d have to be a special kind of idiot to miss it. I think that’s why Enzio got a little carried away.”
I scoffed. “Why, because he’s jealous?” The thought alone was ridiculous.
Dante’s dark gaze met mine. “Yes, because he’s jealous.”
“That’s insane. Enzio is incapable of feeling anything.”
“You don’t get it, do you? We Italian men are insanely possessive over what we deem ours. Once we decide something belongs to us, there is nothing we won’t do to keep it.”
I finished the last of my cocktail and got up from the chair before placing my hand on his shoulder. “Well, in that case, you can be assured Enzio is not jealous, because I’m not his.”
“In his eyes, you are.”
A chill slowly spread down my back when I noticed the grim expression on Dante’s face.
“No, in his eyes, I’m nothing but a little lamb, remember?”
“He took your virginity, Karina. He claimed you that night, promising he would collect one day. What do you think it is he plans on collecting?”
The sound of my heartbeat echoed in my ears while I felt ice spread through my veins. “What?” I asked hesitantly, knowing all too well that I was not going to like the answer.
Dante stood next to me, his gaze sympathetic. “You.”
Before I even had two seconds to digest what Dante said, the restaurant door was flung open in a way that demanded everyone’s attention.
The second I laid eyes on the man storming through the door, my heart stopped, and I sucked in a breath.
“Lorik.”