“You’re out of your fucking mind.” Matteo sighed. “Lorenzo wants to see you. Now. I’ve put him off as long as I can, but he’s one step away from calling for your head. You better get back here.”
He didn’t want to, but if his uncle was working himself into a state over this, it would mean more trouble on the back end. Better to deal with it now. He sighed and checked the navigation. “I’ll be back in eight hours or so. He’ll have to wait until then.”
“Fine. Your funeral.” Matteo paused. “You going to have her with you?”
“No.”
“She alive?”
“Si. We’ve gone our separate ways. Temporarily.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Dante picked up speed. “Have the jet fueled and ready for me. I won’t be staying long once I deal with Lorenzo.”
Matteo sighed again. “You can’t keep going after this chick, cugino. She shot you, and now she took off the first chance she got. Take a fucking hint.”
If you come after me again, I will kill you. I won’t have a choice.
The first time she’d threatened him where it sounded actually reluctant. If that wasn’t progress, Dante didn’t know what else to call it. He could work with progress. “Mind your own business.”
“You are my business, asshole. If you get yourself killed by one of the Romanovs or Capparellis or… Jesus, the list just goes on, doesn’t it? That woman has connections with families across the eastern seaboard. You keep fucking with her, you’re going to get all of us killed.”
“You didn’t say shit when he sent me over there to scope her out, and you sure as fuck didn’t say anything when I told you my plan.”
Matteo cursed. “Yeah, motherfucker, because my father ultimately makes the calls right now and because you were obsessed as soon as you met her. I figured you’d get her out of your system and move on. I didn’t think you’d decide to marry the bitch.”
“Call her a bitch again and you’ll regret it.”
His cousin huffed out a breath. “That’s what I’m talking about. You don’t get your head turned. Not by anyone. What the fuck is going on with you, Dante?”
“She’s mine.”
The silence stretched out between them for nearly a minute before Matteo finally found his words again. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”
“No.” He and Rose were inevitable. She knew that in her heart, or she wouldn’t have let him live this time. She was just too tied up in her family shit to see things clearly. She let her head overrule what her heart wanted, and while he could respect that she stuck to her guns, there was no fucking way he’d let her marry that bastard Romeo Capparelli. “She’s mine,” he repeated. “And as soon as I deal with your father, I’m going to go get her.”
Chapter 17
The flight back to New York was aggravating as fuck.
Rose’s head pounded from where Casimir had slammed her into the ground. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed live coals. And her ankle ached just enough to be truly irritating.
Most of all, her cousin and uncle refused to answer a single one of her questions.
Uncle Jude had made sure she was okay as soon as they got on the plane, but the second he realized she wouldn’t stop pestering them, he’d muttered something under his breath about stubborn women, pulled out his laptop, and for all intents and purposes seemed to be ignoring them despite his lack of headphones.
“Grady, just tell me what happened. You were at the wedding.”
Grady crossed his arms over his broad chest. He was even bigger than his dad, which was saying something. They had the same dark hair and dark eyes, though Grady was just built solid. Uncle Jude was no slouch, even now that he was in his sixties, but Grady looked like he could just plow through a concrete wall without missing a step. He also had Uncle Jude’s glare down to a science. “We were hired to find you. We don’t have anything to do with the rest of it.”
She didn’t roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. “Yes, yes, I’m aware you aren’t actually connected with the less-than-legal activities. God forbid you dirty your pristine hands the way the rest of your family has.” Back in the day, Jude and Sloan had lived outside of Boston for several years before they moved back to the city, and even then it was with the understanding that they would not be included in any of the O’Malley businesses, either legit or in the shadows. She respected their choice, but Grady’s holier-than-thou attitude never failed to piss her off. Especially right now, when she wasn’t actually asking him to delve into anything but what he saw personally. “But you were at the wedding and you’re here now.”
“The only reason I’m here is because we’re good at finding people and you needed found.” He glared harder. “And, fucking hell, Rose. You’re family even if you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Thanks, Grady, so sweet of you to say.” She wouldn’t pretend she hadn’t needled him whenever the opportunity arose at extended family get-togethers; he was so uptight, she was practically required to mess with him. She huffed. God, her throat fucking hurt, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her from getting answers. “You won’t tell me? Fine. Give me a phone and I’ll call home myself.”
“No.” This came from Jude. He didn’t look up from his computer. “Your parents specifically said they’d update you when you got back.”
Frustration reached a rapid boil inside her. “Since when do you care what Dmitri fucking Romanov wants?” There was a time when Papa and Jude were actual enemies. That hatred had faded over the years, but they were hardly what could be termed friends.
“Rose.” He finally lifted his gaze from the laptop. When she was a little girl, she just thought Uncle Jude was a quiet guy with the patience of Job. He wouldn’t play silly games like Uncle Cillian or Uncle Teague, but he also had no problem reading to their chaotic group of cousins for extended periods of time.
Now, as an adult, she couldn’t quite forget the fact he used to kill people for living. It was there in the steadiness of his gaze, in the quiet way he held the body he’d kept strong despite the years passing and the gray in his hair. Every once in a while, he gave her a flash of that man he used to be, and he was giving it to her now.
She wasn’t a little girl anymore, though. She lifted her chin, fighting back a wince when the move made both head and throat ache. “Tell me.”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He leaned back and surveyed her again. “You were sure quick to get out of there. Left some loose ends.”
A wealth of implication beneath those words, implication she certainly didn’t want to examine too closely. By all rights, she should have shot Dante and left him for dead. Again. It was the smart thing to do, even if it meant having to dodge the law. She’d seen the look on his face, heard the truth in his words.
He wouldn’t stop coming for her.
Not while they were both alive.
That was a bad thing. No matter how conflicted she felt the past couple days, ultimately a few days of mind-blowing sex with that man changed nothing. She was meant for Romeo. It was the only way to dodge issues with the Capparelli family, and that was doubly important now that the Russian branch of her family was involved.