"Where exactly are we going?" I ask two days later, peering out from the limousine window. My breath is fogging the icy glass and making it hard to see.

"I told you, it's a surprise," Dante answers nonchalantly, leaning back in his leather seat. His white button-up shirt is open at the collar and I am strongly considering opening it further. The backseat of a limo has plenty of room and privacy for where I want this date to go. He shakes his head slowly, his brown eyes knowing exactly what I am planning. I have to wait.

I slump back in my own seat and cross my arms. I know I look like a irritable, spoiled brat. Dante rolls his eyes, but a sliver of a grin cracks his face. I can tell at least he is considering my idea.

"We're here," he says as the car pulls to a stop. "Behave and later we can play."

The way he says the word play sends a small shiver down my spine. I like it when we play.

The door to the limo opens and the driver helps me out. I leave my coat in the car and my breath catches in the cold afternoon air. Dante is right behind me and I can feel his warmth. In front of us is the Hayden Sphere. I'd seen it, but have never been inside. I know it is part of the American Museum of Natural History and that they just redid it a year or so ago. It looks like a clear cube with a giant ball inside. It certainly makes me think of something from space.

"The planetarium?" I ask, turning my head to look at Dante. He grins.

"You said you never get to see the stars anymore," he explained, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and guiding me toward the building. "Well, this afternoon we are going to see some stars."

I barely remember saying that in passing. I'm impressed he remembered at all. The clear night sky is something I miss from my old life. I am more than happy to trade those small twinkling lights in the sky for the sparkling lights of the city.

We enter the the glass doors of the museum and start to wander through the exhibits. I'm not really paying attention to Jupiter's red spot or even that Pluto isn't given its rightful place as a planet anymore. I'm focused on Dante.

His hand is on my shoulder as we read an exhibit display. It's hot through my thin, silk blouse. I close my eyes and try to think, but all I can concentrate on is how good it feels to have him touch me. For a moment, I let myself dream. The two of us, married and happy. A wedding with me in a white dress and him waiting at the end of the aisle.

Except, as I walk down the aisle in my thoughts, Victoria Russo is there. Her cold eyes pierce my happy thoughts and ruin my imaginary wedding. I open my eyes and let Dante guide me to the next display. I need to talk to Aunt Sophia about her.

The museum is blissfully quiet with only a couple of other patrons browsing the exhibits. It seems strange to see anywhere in New York quiet, but it is a weekday. A small boy, no older than four years old, points up at one of the planets lining the museum and shouts with glee. His mother smiles and picks him up, keeping his excitement in check. He is the only child here. It must just be a slower day until school lets out and the children come flocking to see the planets.

"Are you close with your parents?" I ask Dante, watching the mother whisper to her child about the stars. The happy duo look like something from a sappy Mother's Day card commercial.

“I'm a good son,” Dante answers noncommittally, his eyes following mine to the mother and child. It's slight, but his jaw tightens. “I know where my family loyalties lie.”

"Do you talk to your mom a lot?" I keep my voice light and easy, even though my heart is squeezing into my throat. I want him to say no. I want him to say that he doesn't listen to a thing she says and that the woman has no real power over him. I want the conversation with her to be nothing but an empty threat.

Dante turns his full attention to me. There's something ancient and dark in those dark eyes. His face is hard and I know I'm treading on dangerous ground with this subject. "She runs the Russo Family and she is my mother.”

I try to smile like it was just an innocent question, but my heart sinks a little. She runs the Russo Family... which means she has power over him. For a moment, I wonder if we're going about this all too fast. There are too many ways that Victoria can sabotage this.

Dante walks to the next display, leaving me to catch up. The edge is gone from his voice and the easy-going smile of youth crosses his features as I join him. "What about you? You close with your parents?"

"They're dead, so not really," I say, bitterness making my words short. “Sophia is my mother's sister. She took me in when my mother died.”

"I'm sorry," Dante says, wrapping his arm around me. He's warm and I am safe. For a moment, I wish that we were different people. I wish that we were normal. That we didn't have the family pushing us together or anyone wanting us to stay apart. I wished that this could be a boring story without any of the danger or stress.

"It was a long time ago," I say.

He kisses my head and smooths my hair with his hand. "Any siblings?"

"No. My dad died when I was a toddler and my mother never remarried.”

"A brother and a sister," he answers, but doesn't offer up any more information.

He guides us to the next display. I wasn't finished reading the last one, but I go with him anyway. It takes me three steps to realize that he's been subtly moving us through the museum on a schedule. I didn't even realize he had been doing it. Something about the ease of which he moves me along bothers me. I don't like not being in control. If we're to be married and our families joined, I need to be in control as much as he is.

"You said you used to be able to see the stars," Dante says, pointing to a display with a picture of North America. "Where did you live?"

I know he doesn't mean anything by the question. It's something that a fiance should know about their betrothed, but it irks me. I should be glad that he hasn't pried into my life and found out all of this from other people. He's asking me, yet I don't want to talk about it.

Unjustified anger heats my center. The fact that it's unjustified just makes it worse and now I'm angry at myself too.

“It doesn't matter. There's no one there to go home to.” The only person left in that town is the one person in this world I need to run from. They are the person that killed my mother.

I want to snap at him, but that isn't fair. I take a deep breath. It isn't his fault that I have a tragic past. I remind myself that he's in love with me and that I am in love with him.

"Dante..." I turn to look at him, and my heart aches. His dark brow is tight and it just makes him more beautiful. “It's not that interesting. Or important.”

“It is to me,” he says, taking my hands.

I sigh. I don't like talking about this. I don't like thinking about that day.

"I grew up in the suburbs outside of Detroit,” I say softly. “It was just my mother and me. She didn't want to be in the mattress business. She was a professional piano player. She was amazing. People would come from all over to hear her play.”

Dante's hands are warm around mine. I concentrate on that.

“She started seeing this guy. He seemed like a good choice. He was campaigning to be senator. I thought he loved my mother, but...” My voice falters a little. In the eyes of an adult, the issues are easy to see, but the eyes of a child are blind. “He wasn't a good person. My mother would come home with bruises. She told me it was always an accident.”

Dante's hands tighten and I can see anger flash in his eyes.

“Anyway, it was a week after my twelfth birthday. He drove me home from school. My mother wasn't home.” My shoulders tighten with the memory. It's taken years to work through this moment. Sometimes, I wake screaming from nightmares where I relive this moment. “He kissed me. He touched my chest and said I was growing up into a such a lovely young woman. I tried to leave the car, but he grabbed me. He left bruises on my arm. He hurt me when I didn't give him what he wanted.”

Dante growls. He's angry for me.

“I told my mother. She was furious. It was her breaking point. She was leaving him. She had me pack a bag while she went to tell him it was the end. She said she'd destroy him for this. She died in a car crash on the way home.”

I leave out the lingering questions I have about her death. I've tried to figure out how it happened, but it never seems to make sense. I've read the reports. I've even been to the site of the accident. It doesn't feel right. The words in the report don't match what I saw. Something about it makes me uncomfortable. I have no actual proof that he killed her, but I can't seem to shake the feeling either. I just know that somehow, John Norwood is responsible for her death.

“I'm so sorry,” he says, his hands still tight on mine.

“Uncle Tony and Aunt Sophia took me in. They made me their own.” I'm more confident with this part. This part doesn't make my chest feel too tight. This part is where I feel safe again. “Family means everything to me now. They saved me from him. He's a powerful man and he wasn't pleased when they took me. They made sure I was safe and well cared for.”

"Oh, Vesper," Dante whispers my name. Concern replaces the anger in his eyes. He touches my face and I realize I'm crying. The pads of his fingers smear the tear across my cheek.

"I don't want to tell you because it isn't who I am anymore. I don't want you to look at me differently." I wish my voice didn't waver so much, but I can't help it. I don't like being this emotionally exposed to anyone. He wants to marry me and the small voice in the back of my mind keeps telling me that if he finds out who I really am, he will leave and never come back. I know that it's not true, but that doesn't stop the insecurities from whispering through my mind. "Can you understand?"

"Yes," he says, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I relax into him, feeling safe for a moment.

“You have any dark past I need to know about?” I ask him.

“I'm in the mob,” he whispers, making me giggle.

I feel a little better now.

"Would you still like to see the stars?" Dante asks after a moment. "I mean, I get it if you don't... the stars being part of your past and all."

I ignore the implication of his words. "No, I'd like to see them. Stars don't have pasts."

"What?" One of Dante's dark brows lifts. We start walking toward the planetarium entrance.

"I guess it doesn't matter with projected stars," I say, motioning to the rounded ceiling as we enter. "But, for real stars, the light we see in the sky is millions of years old. The light left its star around the time of the dinosaurs and has traveled through space for all that time and we're just seeing it now. We're seeing something that doesn't exist anymore. The past and the future doesn't matter to stars because it's all the same. Time is meaningless to them."

Dante nods as if he understands, but I don't think he does. Some days, it barely makes sense to me, but I find comfort in the stars and how they don't experience time. My life doesn't matter to a star and something about that is soothing.

He gently guides me past the rings of chairs angled up to see the domed roof and to the center of the room. We're obviously not supposed to sit here, but he pulls me down to the ground. I reluctantly sit, watching as he lays down on the floor and puts his hands behind his head. The motion makes the muscles of his arms stand out in a way that makes my mouth go dry with want.

"Aren't we supposed to be in the chairs?" I look around, but no one else is coming in the room.

"Nope." He grins, looking charming and boyish. His hair is just about to fall into his eyes, so I gently brush it off his forehead. He closes his eyes at my touch, practically purring like a cat. "This is all ours for the hour. You can sit wherever you want." He opens one eye and glances at the space next to him, indicating where he thinks I should sit.

I nestle in closer to him, drawing his strength into me. The lights dim and the sky suddenly fills with stars. It's so real for a moment I forget where I am. I can feel Dante's heartbeat, strong and steady under me. I close my eyes and let myself relax into him for a moment. I let myself truly fall in love with Dante.

I know I won't stop loving him after this moment. Once you love Dante Russo, you will never stop loving him.