The Bastard's Betrayal
Date: 2021-08-25 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Contemporary; Crime; Dark; Adult; Fiction; New Adult; Erotic Romance; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Suspense; Romance
Description: **She thought it was love.** Rose Romanov is a mafia princess, and everything that entails. Violently over-protective parents. A giant extended family, all ready to kill anyone who looks at her wrong. Learning to run a business that isn’t exactly on the right side of the law. So, naturally, when she meets a nice guy who isn’t in the life, she falls hard… Right up until the she discovers her new boyfriend isn’t a civilian at all. **But he betrayed her.** When Dante Verducci was sent on an undercover mission to evaluate the Romanov family for weakness, he never expected to have an instant connec

The Bastard’s Betrayal

A Scandalous Scions Novel

Katee Robert

Trinkets and Tales LLC

Copyright © 2021 by Katee Robert

All rights reserved.

Cover art by By Hang Le

Print ISBN: 978-1-951329-37-2

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact katee@kateerobert.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

Created with Vellum

The Nisha Sharma. This series wouldn’t exist without you!

Contents

Also by Katee Robert

Content Warning

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

Glossary

About the Author

Also by Katee Robert

The O’Malley Series

The Marriage Contract

The Wedding Pact

An Indecent Proposal

Forbidden Promises

Undercover Attraction

The Bastard’s Bargain

Sabine Valley

Abel

Broderick

The Bloodline Vampires

Sacrifice

Heir

Queen

Wicked Villains

Desperate Measures

Learn My Lesson

A Worthy Opponent

The Beast

The Sea Witch

Queen Takes Rose

A Touch of Taboo

Your Dad Will Do

Gifting Me To His Best Friend

My Dad’s Best Friend

Seducing My Guardian

The Groom, The Maid of Honor, and The Runaway Bride

Twisted Hearts

Theirs for the Night

Forever Theirs

Theirs Ever After

His Forbidden Desire

Her Rival’s Touch

His Tormented Heart

Her Vengeful Embrace

The Kings Series

The Last King

The Fearless King

The Hidden Sins Series

The Devil’s Daughter

The Hunting Grounds

The Surviving Girls

The Make Me Series

Make Me Want

Make Me Crave

Make Me Yours

Make Me Need

The Hot in Hollywood Series

Ties that Bind

Animal Attraction

Come Undone Series

Wrong Bed, Right Guy

Chasing Mrs. Right

Two Wrongs, One Right

Content Warning

This book contains themes and content which may be upsetting to some readers.

Content warnings include: murder, kidnapping, explicit sex, dubious consent, parental death (drug overdose, historical, off-page).

Author’s Note

This book launches a series I never thought would happen. Back when I wrote the O’Malleys series, it was such a project of love. After being told what I should or shouldn’t write for years, it was the first step I took in writing for joy instead of writing what I “should” write to be marketable. That first chapter of The Marriage Contract, where Callie shot her fiancé dead? It shouldn’t have worked…but it did.

After the O’Malleys series wrapped up, I got a lot of questions about what happened next…to the point where I started a Patreon to write check-ins because so many people requested more content featuring this family. I never intended to do a second-generation series, but those Patreon check-ins slowly built out the world of happily-ever-after for my six original couples, and it got the wheels turning.

Thanks to a few friends (looking at you, Nisha Sharma and Andie J Christopher!) brainstorming with me and those check-ins, this series was born.

For those of you who haven’t read the O’Malley series, you absolutely do not need to in order to enjoy this book. It takes place approximately thirty years after the end of that series, and while you’ll see the original couples periodically, this series stands on its own.

If you’d like more background on the original series and characters, you can find a glossary at the end of the book.

Happy reading!

XO,

Katee

Chapter 1

Rose Romanov was in trouble.

She’d known it from the moment she got the summons from her parents. And it was a summons. She stared at the closed study door and tried to calm her racing heart. For twenty-seven years, she’d been the perfect daughter. Sure, there was some teenage rebellion shit, but she wasn’t a saint. No one expected her to be a saint.

More like the exact opposite.

Which was fine. As the heir to the branch of the Romanov empire in New York, she’d long ago made her peace with the path set out before her. It was better than the fate of most women in mafia families. Her father was something of a Renaissance man when it came to that. He’d fought the other Romanovs to protect her position, and she’d never once done anything to make him regret the decision.

Until Jackson.

Even now, even knowing she was about to suffer through a lecture at least, if not a flat-out ultimatum, she couldn’t help smiling. Jackson was her one rebellion, the moment a few months ago when she’d turned left instead of right and thrown everything into the current tailspin. He was just a guy, a normal guy who didn’t know who her parents were or what role they played in the NYC underworld. He just saw Rose, the woman, instead of Rose, the mafia princess.

She’d fight to keep that. Even if she had to fight her parents.

Things with him were never supposed to get to this point. When she’d seen him across the bar for the first time, all golden good looks and roguish charm, she’d only been looking for a night of pleasure. He’d given her that. But one night became two, became a few months. When she met him, she’d never expected him to provide her with a safe space outside of all her family shit. She loved her family. She did. But it was really nice to date someone who just saw Rose the person, rather than Rose Romanov, heir to the New York Romanov empire. Sure, she couldn’t be an unedited version of herself with Jackson, but she valued their time together.

Truth be told, she’d expected this conversation with her parents before now, but Mama and Papa were both patient hunters. They were willing to play the long game, and they had to be operating under the assumption that Rose knew Jackson couldn’t be endgame. And…they were right.

It didn’t matter how nice it was to hang out with him for lazy afternoons when she could sneak away. Or that he seemed so heavily invested in her opinions on everything from the most mundane to the big, serious topics. Or that they shared a surprising intimacy she’d never felt with another person.

Jackson wasn’t in the life, which meant her relationship was doomed the moment it began. She wasn’t willing to drag him down into the dark with her. She just thought she’d have more time. It had only been a few months. Surely after a lifetime of mostly good behavior, she was allowed more time with this man?

She took one last fortifying breath and opened the door to their shared study. Stepping inside sent a wave of home through her. She’d spent countless hours in this room. Her first memories were of playing on the floor with Papa, him sitting oh so seriously and listening to her babble on about whatever her favorite cartoon of the week was. He never lost patience or got distracted. Papa always acted like every word out of her mouth was priceless, at least when she was a child.

He’d learned a thing or two since then.

Her parents were on the other side of the massive desk, their expressions carefully blank. Another sign she was in trouble. Rose took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This wasn’t the first difficult conversation she’d had with them, and it wouldn’t be the last. Staying calm and in control was vital when dealing with her parents. “Papa. Mama.”

Her father, Dmitri Romanov, terror of the city and most of the Eastern Seaboard, sat in his chair with his hands steepled before his face. With some men, the years faded them, made them more approachable. Not so with her father. His features had only gotten sharper, and his hair might be leaning more silver than black, but it was still thick. He was also wearing a suit at eight in the morning on a Sunday, which gave her pause.

Was something else going on? Surely a family discussion about her boyfriend didn’t require such formality?

She turned her attention to her mother, who was perched on the arm of Papa’s chair. Keira Romanov had always been petite like Rose and her sister Anya, but where time had sharpened her father, it had softened her mother. She wasn’t one of those women in her fifties who wanted the body of someone in their twenties, and it resulted in very good hugs. Her hair—always dyed a perfect warm brown—fell around her face and shoulders in carefully created waves. She wasn’t wearing the normal lazy Sunday clothing either; she had on one of her red dresses.

Red dresses meant trouble.

Rose considered sitting, but she didn’t like this. Not one bit. “What’s going on?”

“Shut the door.” Papa spoke curtly.

Oh shit. She quickly obeyed. “Is there trouble?” The Romanovs had been at peace for as long as she’d been alive. She’d heard stories of how Papa had almost gone to war with Mama’s family, but once they were married and eliminated the single threat within the city, things had settled down. There were skirmishes—there were always skirmishes—but if she’d learned anything, it was that things could change on a dime. It only took some new group to come into town and decide to start throwing their weight around.

“Sit down, Rose.” Mama was speaking Russian, which sent alarm bells ringing. When it came to business, she only switched to Russian when she was very, very serious.

Rose slowly sank into one of the two chairs across from the desk. “You’re scaring me.”

Mama sighed. “You’ve done a foolish thing, daughter. You should be scared.” She glanced at Papa. When Rose was little, it seemed magical how they could have entire conversations without saying a single word. Now, she recognized it as thirty years of shared life together. She couldn’t help a little twinge of envy at the thought.

She wanted that. Someday. With the right person.

Papa gave a sigh of his own. “We give you a significant amount of freedom. Too much, apparently.”

That had her straightening. “Excuse me? I’m twenty-seven. I do everything you ask of me and more. I deserve what little freedom I have.”

“Da.” He glanced at her mother.

Mama picked up a tablet from the desk. “We know you’ve been slumming it with some civilian, and we allowed it because, as you said, you do everything we ask and more. You’re a good daughter and an asset.”

Rose tensed. “I’m sensing a but coming, and it feels like a doozy.”

“This is the boy you’ve been playing with for the past few months, da?” Mama flipped the tablet around. On the screen was a picture of Jackson. He wore a white T-shirt and faded pair of jeans. The same thing he had on during their most recent date. He’d brought her flowers, just like he did on every date, even though it’d been months and she had a toothbrush at his apartment. Roses for his Rose. Jackson was a dork, but she liked it. She liked him.

Rose’s breath stilled in her lungs as she realized the implications of this photo. “You had me followed.”

“You slipped your detail. Again. It’s our job to ensure you’re safe.” Papa’s gray eyes were cold, cold, cold. That, in and of itself, was a warning she couldn’t afford to ignore. He only ever looked like that before violence occurred.

Oh, Papa would never touch her or her sisters or Mama, but the same couldn’t be said for anyone he considered a threat. Anya got the same look right before she slipped into the night to commit acts that would give a normal person nightmares. Anything to ensure the safety of their family, the security of their territory.

Rose’s hands weren’t lily white, either.

That didn’t mean she was going to roll over for her parents right now. She couldn’t pretend they didn’t get a say when it came to who she eventually settled down with, but right now she was just having fun. She was very careful to avoid ending up pregnant, and that’s the only thing they needed to worry about. “This isn’t your business.”

“Wrong.” Mama flicked a finger across the screen, scrolling to a new picture.

Rose leaned forward, frowning. A different picture of Jackson, but he didn’t look like Jackson in it. He had the same athletic build, and his golden hair was shorter than it was now and slicked back. Without his hipster beard, he was almost too pretty. Too flawless. He also wore a perfectly tailored suit that her practiced eye told her cost a small fortune. Way more than some college-dropout bartender should be able to afford. Still, it was undeniably him. “Where did you get this?”

“This man? His name isn’t Jackson.” Mama hesitated and looked at Papa. “Rose…”

She didn’t like this. She didn’t like this at all. Her parents didn’t hesitate, and they didn’t beat around the bush. “Say it.” No matter what they weren’t telling her, better to know and deal with it than to be left hanging. “Just say it.”

Papa was the one who finally spoke. “The man you’ve been sneaking off with, the one whose apartment you spent the night in last night. His name isn’t Jackson Smith. It’s Dante Verducci.”

The room took a sickening spin around her. She knew that last name, if only in theory. As heir, it was her job to keep her finger to the pulse of not just New York but the other cities where her Romanov cousins held power. They were powerful because they were stronger together, creating a network that spanned a good portion of the US coastline. But their enemies were just names to be memorized, especially Kirill and Sasha’s since they were in Los Angeles and Seattle, respectively.

“Verducci,” she said slowly. “As in the Verducci clan in LA.” They’d given her uncle Kirill—well, Kirill was technically Papa’s cousin, but they called him uncle—a lot of trouble over the last couple decades. “That’s impossible. Lorenzo Verducci only has one son. This isn’t him.”

“Dante Verducci is his nephew, the son of his late sister. She was out of the life for a bit, which is why we don’t have a complete file on him.”

“Impossible.” She didn’t know why she was arguing. Her parents wouldn’t have come to her with this if they weren’t sure they were right, but no matter which way she looked at this information, it didn’t make sense. “One, the Capparelli family would skin him alive if they knew he was in New York. They’re the only Italian game in town, and we have a hard enough time keeping them under control. They’re not going to let another family poach on their territory. Two, it doesn’t make any kind of logistical sense for Dante Verducci to be here, across the country from his territory.”

“Rose.”

She wasn’t finished. “Three, I am dating Jackson Smith. He’s a nice guy who was raised upstate, came to the city to pursue a degree at NYU, wandered off before he graduated, and has a very mundane, very non-criminal life as a bartender with a shitty apartment in Brooklyn. There is no way that guy is part of the Verducci family. He’s too…” Caring. Sweet. Safe. “Unless he’s in hiding or something?”

“Rose… He’s not in hiding,” Mama said.

Papa shook his head sharply. “You were duped.”

“Impossible.” What she and Jackson had? It was real. It felt real. He’d shared so much about his life. His sorrow about his dead mother. His conflict-filled relationship with his uncle… “Oh shit,” she whispered. Rose fought not to wrap her arms around herself. He’d peppered in real parts of his history, just enough to make the lie work.

She’d given him her heart, and it was all a lie.

A poisonous fury spiked through her. Duped. By Jackson fucking Smith. For months. Months and months where she’d given him a level of intimacy she didn’t dole out to just anyone. Where she told him small, mundane secrets. Where she slept with him. When she fell for him. They hadn’t exchanged those three little words, but they hovered on her tongue more and more lately. It was all a lie. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. “I’ll kill him.”

“That won’t fix anything. Not at this juncture.” Papa took the tablet from her mother and set it face down on the desk. “There are consequences for your actions, intentional or not.”

Mama looked a little sick to her stomach. “No matter that it was unintentional, you sleeping with a Verducci puts us in a precarious position with the Capparelli family.”

Rose wanted to protest, but she knew the score. She leaned forward and pressed her fingers to her temples. The pressure did nothing to stop the headache pounding there. Consequences. There were consequences for her actions. As her father was so fond of saying, there was no excuse for ignorance, not with their resources. “I did a background check on him.”

“We know.”

Of course they did. Vasily would have passed on the report she asked for. She was heir, yes, but her parents still ran the business. Even if they had been making more noise about retiring in the past six months. Mama wanted to travel without having to worry about their enemies taking their absence as an invitation to start shit. They couldn’t leave Rose in charge alone, though. No matter that the Russian Romanovs seemed to have finally backed off their determination to see her as lesser because of her gender, the fact remained that their enemies weren’t as progressive. She needed a spouse. She knew it.

She just thought she had more time.

Unfortunately, it seemed the clock had just run out.

Rose lifted her head. “Do the Capparellis know?”

“Da.”

Fuck. “They’re using this to press their suit.” Romeo Capparelli had taken over the family business from his father a year ago, and he’d made clear his intentions to cement an alliance between their two families with a marriage pact. It was how things were done, after all.

“They already have.” Papa doesn’t look away, doesn’t blink. “Romeo wants Lorelei as his wife.”

“No. Absolutely not.” He was handsome and charming and had a smile that never lit up his dark eyes. She couldn’t sentence her little sister to a marriage to him. Lorelei was cunning and ruthless in her own way, but Romeo was a monster. He’d crush her just because he could. “I’ll marry a different Capparelli. One of his siblings—Fabian or Drucilla—or one of the cousins.” The other Capparelli siblings were just as merciless as Romeo, but at least they weren’t in charge of anything. She could find a way to control them.

Except Mama was shaking her head. “That won’t be enough. It’s Romeo who will be the groom.”

Rose straightened. “I know I fucked up, but it’s not like Romeo Capparelli realized there was a Verducci in his territory, either. This isn’t solely on me.”

“You’re fucking his enemy.” Trust Papa to cut to the chase. “He’s taking it personally.”

Damn it. She really had fucked this up. She tried to slow down, tried to think, but in Romeo’s situation, she’d do something similar. There was no denying the insult. If he’d been entertaining one of their enemies the way she’d been entertaining Jackson—no, Dante—then she would have demanded blood. He had them over a barrel, and he knew it. Fuck.

If she wasn’t willing to let her sister pay the price of her foolishness, then there was only one course of action. She knew it’d come to this eventually. Marriage and babies and that whole thing was part of the lifestyle. With IVF as an option, she hadn’t really worried overmuch about the gender of the person she’d eventually say “I do” to, but Romeo Capparelli?

She was exhausted just thinking about spending the rest of her life jockeying for power. “I’ll marry him.”

“He wants—”

She dropped her hands and cut off her father. “I don’t give a fuck what Romeo Capparelli wants. One Romanov daughter is as good as another. This is my mess. I’ll be the one to pay the consequences. Not Lorelei.” Not any of her sisters.

“If you’re sure.”

She wasn’t. She wasn’t even close to sure. By marrying Romeo, it sentenced her to a life of fighting to ensure her people and territory weren’t devoured by his. There was a reason heirs rarely married each other—something non-female members of the underworld normally didn’t have to worry about. It was why other families treated their daughters as pawns to be moved about to secure alliances.

Romeo wanted a Romanov daughter? She’d give him one.

Mama pushed off the chair and gave Papa’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll have an ironclad prenup drawn up. You’ll be protected.”

“I can protect myself.” She worked to take the bite out of her tone. Her parents hadn’t put her in this situation. Her own short-sightedness, her own selfishness had. If she’d given in to their gentle pressure a few years ago, she could have married some nice, docile little spouse whom she’d never have to worry about sinking a knife into her ribs. “I made my bed. I’ll deal with laying in it.”

“Rose—”

She pushed to her feet. “But Romeo will do me one courtesy before we officially enter negotiations.”

Papa lifted a single brow. “That courtesy?”

“I’ll deal with Dante Verducci myself.” Tonight. Right fucking now.

He’d made a fool of her, and she wasn’t going to let him live long enough to regret it.

Chapter 2

Rose’s sisters descended and she got ready. She chose her clothing carefully, just like she always did when meeting…Jackson. As far as he knew, she was just a woman who worked an office job she didn’t love, had a big family, and liked roses.

Rose would never be able to look at her namesake again after this.

She slammed her hair dryer down harder than she intended. He knew. That bastard knew who she was this whole time, and he played her for a fool. She had too much anger, her mother’s anger that flared hot and scalding, but she didn’t bother to control it. Not this time. Not when it would serve her so well.

Lorelei lifted her brows, meeting Rose’s gaze in the mirror. “What did that hair dryer ever do to you?”

Anya tossed her lean body onto Rose’s bed, sprawling the way she always seemed to. “She’s pissed because Mama and Papa are making her break up with the bartender.” The way she said bartender was loaded with loathing. Anya had strong opinions about Rose “slumming it with the normies.”

Lorelei’s brows winged higher. “That was fast.”

“It’s been months. That’s not fast at all.” Sasha reached around Rose to grab a tube of mascara. “This is mine, by the way.”

Lorelei snorted. “Actually, it’s mine. You borrowed it from me last week, remember?”

“I returned that one.” Sasha waved the tube. “I bought this yesterday.”

“Liar.”

“Selfish hag.”

“Bitch.”

“Take it.” Rose studied her sisters in the mirror, letting their chaotic squabbling ground her. They threw insults with a fondness that belied the words themselves. This was her life. This was normal. She never should have tried to go against it, even in temporary rebellion. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. It would be okay. Rose would fix things and she would be the only one to pay for the consequences of her actions.

She pulled on a cheap floral dress she’d bought from a box store. The woman in the mirror hardly looked like her. It was only now, when the whole charade had fallen down around her head that she had to admit the fucked-up lengths she’d gone to in keeping it afloat. She didn’t look like Rose Romanov. She looked like just another brunette who walked the streets of New York every day of her life, barely getting by, and yet the only thing she really had to stress about was the shitty dating pool.

That woman didn’t have her entire family relying on her to make the smart call, to sacrifice in order to provide for them for the next generation.

That woman was silly and foolish and a little vapid.

That woman was in love with a man who didn’t exist.

What a fucking waste.

“Rose?” From the tone of Sasha’s voice, this wasn’t the first time she’d said her sister’s name.

Rose tried for a smile. “Sorry. I was thinking of something else. What did you say?”

“Are you okay?” Sasha sat next to Lorelei. They were three years apart, but they could almost have been twins when they were next to each other. Both were pretty and curvy and totally at ease in their skins. The only real difference was that the sweetness of their expression was genuine on Sasha’s face and a carefully curated mask on Lorelei’s. Their youngest sister preferred people to underestimate her.

Sasha kept going. “I know you liked him, but don’t you think our parents are right? Can you really imagine him here with us? As part of the family?”

No, Rose never could, but that was part of the attraction to Jackson in the first place. He was different than the other people she spent time with. He liked her for her, not because of her proximity to power. Part of her had always known their time was limited, even as their relationship progressed from date nights to her leaving a few things at his place. If Jackson knew what was required of her, what lengths she would descend to, he’d run screaming into the night.

Except that man wasn’t Jackson at all.

She had a feeling Dante Verducci knew exactly what was required of a mafia family heir.

The anger she’d barely kept simmering beneath the surface threatened to explode. Not yet. She couldn’t let it leak out yet. If her sisters knew something was going on, they would insist on going with her. They’d fight, and then Anya would shadow her steps anyway. Even now, Anya watched her with narrowed eyes. She braided her long blond hair back from her face, leaving her sharp features on display. If Anya knew what was going on, she’d insist on tagging along, and Rose had to handle this herself.

Her only option was to lie to them. “I’m just a little sad. That’s all. He was a nice guy.” He was a fucking liar.

Anya rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her hand. She was wearing her customary slacks, button-down, and suspenders. All tailored within an inch of their lives, of course. Her sister might favor menswear, but she made it her own just like she did everything else in her life. Her style really was impeccable. Anya frowned. “You’re acting weird. I’m coming with.”

“No.” She managed to keep the word calm and even. “I’ve handled worse than breaking some poor guy’s heart. I’ve got this.”

Sasha nibbled at her fingernails. “We’ll go out afterward. Get your mind off things.”

She wanted to say no, but honestly what would it hurt? Her life had become so complicated in the past two hours. Letting off a little steam might be exactly what she needed once this was all done. “Sure. I just need to come back here and get ready.”

It took another hour to herd her sisters out of her room and head down to the garage. Vasily was waiting for her. They looked like so many of her parents’ people—like they could punch their way through a wall and the wall would give before they would. They were the Romanovs’ best tech person, and they favored shotguns in combat, which was why Rose didn’t take them along often if she needed to keep things quiet. They also loved sushi and playing checkers, and she and Vasily had shared more than a few meals over games when they were teenagers and involved in the business enough to know what was going on but not old enough to actually participate.

She gave them a long look. “You tattled.”

“All my reports go through Alexei. He passed it on.” They shrugged. “You’re being reckless.”

“That’s my decision to make.”

Vasily shook their head slowly. “You know better.” They refrained from lecturing her, which was just as well.

She did know. She didn’t even have an excuse for this. Rose wasn’t one who railed against her fate. Her parents were indulgent, but they’d also raised her to know exactly what was expected of her, and she thrived beneath those expectations. She looked forward to the day when she ruled the family. She’d even made her peace with her marriage being political instead of a love match.

There was no room in any of that for some civilian guy who would be a liability across the board if their relationship ever got serious. Even if Jackson were a real person, eventually she’d have to choose between telling him the truth or lying to him for the rest of their relationship. He wasn’t equipped to exist within the lifestyle. Either he’d hamstring her, or he’d get himself shot by an enemy because he didn’t take the threat seriously.

Except Jackson wasn’t a real guy.

“I take it you’re my babysitter tonight.”

Instead of answering, Vasily strode to the SUV and pulled open the back door. When it was just the two of them, she didn’t like riding in the back because it brought attention to her status. She bit back a sigh and climbed into the vehicle. It didn’t matter now if they chauffeured her around. After tonight, there would be no one to ask questions about it.

Vasily knew her well enough to not attempt conversation as they drove to Jackson’s shitty apartment. They simply parked a few blocks over and looked at her. “You have your piece.”

“Of course.” She pulled her cross-body purse over her head and patted it. It wasn’t huge, but it was more than enough room for her little handgun. She usually had more creative ways of carrying, but if she showed up dressed as Rose Romanov, he would immediately know something was wrong. The only way she’d pull this off was to catch him unawares. That meant not giving away that she knew the truth. “I won’t be long.”

“Call when you’re finished. There’s a team nearby who will handle cleanup.”

Being the princess had its perks, though she doubted most people would consider not having to personally deal with body removal a perk. Those people had never tried to fit a two-hundred-pound man into the truck of a sedan before. “Will do.”

“Rose.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know you’re not about to tell me to be careful.”

“He’s dangerous. Be careful.” They said it without a hint of irony.

“I’m dangerous, too.” She climbed out of the SUV before they could badger her some more. Vasily knew what she was capable of, but everyone got a little skittish when the heir put herself in danger. A small irritation in the grand scheme of things, but an irritation, nonetheless.

It was so hot, she could almost see the waves of it coming off the pavement. Within two blocks, her skin sported a fine sheen of sweat, and she wished she’d taken the time to braid her hair back from her face. The long, dark locks were a vanity of hers, but they sure as fuck were inconvenient at times.

She took the stairs up to Jackson’s—Dante’s—apartment. The main door’s lock was broken and had been since she met him. She’d joked about the security risk, but either he’d never reported it, or the super didn’t care enough to fix it. It didn’t matter now, not when it worked to her advantage.

Rose took a deep breath, paused to make sure her purse was open and the gun within easy reach, and knocked on the door. It was only then that she realized she hadn’t texted or called before showing up. It was too late to alter course now. If Jackson—damn it, Dante—wasn’t home, she’d just break in and wait for him to return.

A shuffling on the other side of the door had her holding her breath. It opened a moment later to reveal the man himself. His blond hair was mussed like he’d been sleeping. For a moment, longing swept over her, so strong it felt like the tide pulling at her legs, demanding she go to him like she always did when she walked through his door. She’d just seen him last night, but she missed him.

A lie.

It was all a fucking lie.

His dark eyes went wide at the sight of her. “Rose. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.” She managed a sweet smile even though it felt like her heart was shredding. Fury and pain and heartache twisted and whirled inside her, the mix so toxic, she felt sick to her stomach. None of it showed in her voice. “Sorry I didn’t call. I was in the neighborhood and, well…I got a little impulsive.”

“Well, I’m not going to turn down some time with my girl.” He stepped back and opened the door wide.

My girl.

You fucking bastard.

She barely managed to keep her smile in place as she moved into the apartment. It looked the same as the last time she’d spent the night. Ratty secondhand furniture that she’d found ridiculously charming. A massive television and gaming setup. The kitchen was falling apart but clean. The entire place was clean. She’d liked that a lot about him, that he took good care of his things, even if they weren’t necessarily valuable to anyone else. She’d liked that he taken care of her, too.

Her chest gave another sickening lurch, but she shut it down. Or she tried. Everywhere she looked, there was evidence of their time together. The container of coffee she kept here because he only drank the cheap stuff. The secondhand romance novel she’d picked up on one of their afternoon dates and had been slowing reading through when she spent time with him. The throw blanket he’d surprised her with one day because she always complained of being cold when she stayed over.

How could she have missed the truth?

Rose shook her head. She’d have years to obsess over how things had gone so wrong. Right now, she had to focus. She had to see this through.

Jackson shut the door and pulled her into his arms, so quickly, she barely managed not to tense. He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” she murmured. Their normal greeting. No matter how many stolen hours they managed, it was never enough. Rose searched his handsome features, looking for the man beneath. His facade was flawless. No one would fault her for being fooled…no one but herself. Even knowing the truth, it felt far too good to have his arms around her.

She stepped back. “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”

“It’s noon.”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” She made herself laugh, hated how carefree it sounded. “Come on, bartender. I know you have something up your sleeve.”

“For you? Always.” He released her and headed to the kitchen.

She slipped her hand into her purse the moment his back was turned. He moved easily, grabbing three bottles and a glass. How had she never thought to question that he kept top-shelf liquor? Rose had just considered it a quirk of his trade, that he’d developed good taste from working behind the bar. She should have questioned it. She should have questioned a lot of things.

“You having a rough day?”

She pulled the gun from her purse and thumbed the safety off. She’d already screwed the silencer on before arriving. Not that the people in this neighborhood would think too hard about strange sounds, but she didn’t need someone getting nosy. Enough had already gone wrong. The cherry on top would be some cops deciding to sniff around. “Something like that.”

He picked up the shaker and gave it a good shake. The move had the muscles lining his back standing out. Another thing she hadn’t questioned: how a bartender who worked full time and spent the rest of his free hours with her had a body like that. And then there were the scars, courtesy of an adventurous childhood, he’d claimed.

She was a fool.

“Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?” She didn’t mean to speak, but the words were out before she could call them back. Closure. She just needed some fucking closure. Then she could finish this.

“What are you talking about, babe?”

“I think you know, Jackson.” She sucked in a breath, her finger caressing the trigger. Now was the time to pull it, to end this, but she wanted to see his face, to have him admit what he’d done. “Or should I say Dante?”

She expected him to tense. To deny. Something.

All he did was turn around and lean against the counter, the shaker still in his hands. She stared into his face, so she saw the exact moment the mask fell away. The happy look in his dark eyes bled away, leaving only an empty coldness that had her fighting back a shiver. “So.” Even his voice changed, the easy cadence disappearing, replaced by yet more emptiness. “You figured it out.”

“Dante Verducci.” The name felt strange on her tongue. Wrong. “I don’t know what you were trying to accomplish, but it ends now.”

His gaze flicked to the gun in her hands. “You really think you’re going to shoot me? You were coming around my cock twenty-four hours ago.”

Fury nearly made her black out. Maybe she wouldn’t regret this after all. He was so fucking sure of her, of this situation, as if the gun in her hand didn’t mean a single damn thing. She’d prove him wrong. Rose steadied her stance, reaching for the one thing she could that would hurt him a fraction of as much as he’d hurt her. “I faked it.”

She pulled the trigger.

Dante moved at last moment, and the bullet took him in the shoulder instead of the middle of the chest. She cursed and spun, following his movement, and pulling the trigger again. Another circle of red blossomed on his gray T-shirt, but then he crashed through the front door and disappeared into the fall.

“Fuck!”

Rose kept her gun up in case he came back, and she fished her phone out of her purse. “Vasily! He’s on the run!”

They didn’t give her shit for fucking this up, too. They just cursed. “I’m on it.”

“I’m following—”

“Nyet. Put the gun away, collect anything from the apartment that would incriminate you, and leave the same way you came in. Take the subway a few stops and call a pickup. We’ll handle this.”

She wanted to argue, but they were right. She couldn’t chase down a bleeding man with a gun in her hands. It would do more than raise eyebrows, and they had enough trouble already. “Okay.”

“Watch your back, Rose.” They hung up.

She cursed and took a second to smooth back her hair and get her game face on. Two minutes later, she had a small bag full of any evidence of her existence at his place. Rose calmly stepped over the blood trail and through the door, pausing to shut it behind her. The blood led to the right, heading toward the emergency exit, but she made herself go left and leave the way she’d come.

Damn it, she’d fucked this up, and badly. What was it about this man that had her missing a step for the first time in her life? She should have shot him in the back, instead she let him get under her skin, and then she missed twice. Oh, not a full miss, but if he could run, she hadn’t done her job properly.

She barely registered her phone buzzing in her hand and answered without looking. “Da?”

“This isn’t over.”

She stopped short. Dante. The gall of him to call her while on the run for his life. She might be impressed if she could breathe through her fury. If the sound of his voice didn’t make her ache with the loss of a relationship that was never real to begin with. “You’re right. It’s not over until you’re dead. Come down to the street, and we’ll talk about it.”

His laugh was raspy and strange. “Rain check. I’ve got a pair of Russians on my tail.”

“I don’t know what you’re running for. They just want to talk, baby. You love to talk.” She should hang up. Nothing good came from this phone call, and Vasily was too good to let Dante get away. This would be over shortly.

I’m just distracting him.

“It’s not over,” he repeated.

Frustration bloomed and she picked up her pace. “Wrong. This was fun while it lasted, but in a few months, you’re going to be rotting in some unmarked grave, and I’ll be walking down the aisle to say ‘I do’ to Romeo Capparelli. It’s over.”

Dante was silent except for his rasping breathing. She’d hurt him, and badly. Nearly as badly as he’d hurt her. “You’ll marry him over my dead fucking body.”

“That’s the plan.”

“We’re not done, Rose Romanov. I’ll be seeing you. Soon.” He hung up before she recovered from her shock.

She still hadn’t recovered after taking the subway and calling for a pickup. The audacity of that motherfucker to say they weren’t done. She shot him. Any normal person would take that as a clear sign that things were over. If he—

She shook her head hard. No. She would not do this to herself. Everything from the last few months between them was a lie, and she would not allow him to worm around inside her head just because her heart was too foolish to know better.

Rose’s phone vibrated in her hand, and she most certainly didn’t feel a beat of disappointment when she saw it was Vasily calling. “Da?”

“We lost him.”

Chapter 3

Three months later

Rose Romanov looked good in white.

Dante studied the pictures in front of him, his hand going to touch the new scar on his shoulder from where she shot him. In the photos, she stood on a short platform in the middle of a shop, dressed in a fancy-ass wedding gown. Her long dark hair fell around her shoulders in waves, and her lips were painted a fuck-me red that made his cock twitch, but the real showstopper was the dress itself. It hugged her body, showing off her perfect tits, wide hips, and bitable ass. She looked like a pinup girl getting ready to walk down the aisle.

She hadn’t been bluffing.

She really did plan to marry that bastard Romeo Capparelli.

Romeo was a savvy fucker, and he’d seen an opportunity to press his agenda. An opportunity Dante provided. He’d been sent to New York for recon and to figure out whether or not there was a Romanov-Capparelli alliance on the horizon…with the secondary aim to disrupt it. He’d spent a month watching the Romanov family before deciding Rose was his in. If he could get close to her, he could potentially influence her against the Capparellis. But he couldn’t do it as himself.

So, Jackson Smith was born.

“Dante.”

He bit back a sigh. His uncle was still furious he’d managed to fuck this up, but the old man would get over it eventually. Dante wasn’t finished in New York. “I’m not coming home yet.”

“It’s over,” he snapped. “You made your play, and you fucked it up to the point where the Romanov bitch is marrying the Capparelli heir. Great fucking job with that. You’ve also managed to stir up Kirill and his people here. It’s your mess, and you need to come back and deal with it.”

Did Lorenzo realize how weak he sounded? What kind of leader couldn’t deal with a little skirmish on his own? Yeah, he was getting up there in age, but with each year that passed, he seemed to become more unstable. More cowardly. He wanted his big, bad attack dog back home to deal with the scary Russians.

Every time the power balance waffled, he sent in Dante to make an example of some poor fuck and scare their enemies back to their own territory. He’d gotten predictable, and it bored Dante.

He wasn’t coming home until he had what he wanted. Or, more accurately, who he wanted. “I’ll be home once I wrap up a few things here,” he finally said. “Have Matteo deal with things until I return. He’s your heir.”

“And you’re my strong left hand. It’s your job to keep these fuckers in line.”

It wasn’t anything he didn’t know. He’d been the strong left hand from the moment he turned sixteen and Lorenzo handed him a gun and told him to take care of the kneeling man at their feet. A traitor, though Dante couldn’t remember what he’d specifically done. Maybe his first kill should have meant something, but he’d felt nothing at all. It turned out he was good at it, which suited his uncle perfectly.

His gaze tracked to the photos of Rose. “If you and Matteo can’t handle a little dustup with Kirill, then my cousin won’t be holding the territory long after your death.” Matteo didn’t have a problem with cowardice, but saying as much would just give his cousin more trouble. Lorenzo lashed out when he got pissed, and Dante wasn’t close enough to direct his fury.

Lorenzo sputtered, and then his voice went low and deadly. “Listen to me, you little shit. I pulled you out of the gutter after your whore mother offed herself. I gave you our family name and raised you like my own son. You will obey me and get on the next fucking plane home.”

Dante welcomed the wash of red over his vision. His mother had died when he was fourteen, an accidental overdose. It had taken another year before Lorenzo appeared and hauled him in. None of it would have happened if Lorenzo himself didn’t throw her out when she got knocked up and ruined his plans to marry her off to secure some alliance, but he liked to keep that little bit to himself when he went on these guilt trips.

They never worked. The old man might have taught Dante plenty, but Dante had more than paid any debt, and he’d never forget where the cycle of suffering started. He hated Lorenzo, but offing the old man wasn’t his play to make.

“Lorenzo.” He didn’t bother to warm up his tone. “I’m not some naive sixteen-year-old anymore. You talk to me like that again, you bring up my mother again, and I’ll kill you myself. I said I’ll be home when I’m ready, and I will. Deal with your shit on your own for once.” He hung up.

His family’s petty feuds were understandable, if predictable. His grandfather and Romeo Capparelli—the current Romeo’s grandfather; the Capparellis liked to name their firstborn sons Romeo—used to be friends. Or so the story went. It reeked of fairy tale by this point. Each family had their own version of events, about how Romeo married off his little sister to Dante’s grandfather and she died a within the first year. Verduccis claimed accident. Capparellis claimed murder. The truth didn’t matter. The Capparellis drove Dante’s grandfather out of New York, drove them off the East Coast entirely. He went back to Italy, married another mob scion’s daughter, and took over a section of LA.

Maybe the feud should have ended there, but his people loved nothing more than to hold grudges and nurse them like they were children. It wasn’t long before the Verduccis were feuding with the LA Romanovs, too.

Dante, frankly, didn’t give a fuck.

The entire Verducci clan could rot, for all he cared, with one notable exception. His cousin, Matteo. It was Matteo who effectively held his leash, not Lorenzo. And Matteo was playing a deeper game than anyone. Eventually he’d get tired of his father wasting valuable resources and put a bullet between his eyes. Not a day too soon, from where Dante stood.

He picked up the photo of Rose again. She looked different than she had the entire time they dated. They’d both been playing their respective roles, and he’d enjoyed the fuck out of mining the truth from fiction when she shared things with him. She was so fucking clever, and her mundane persona was nearly as good as his was. She might not have realized the depths of the game they played, but she was no wide-eyed naive innocent.

Now the veil had been torn away and there was only the truth between them. Going forward there would only ever be the truth between them.

Anticipation curled through him. It had been a very long time since he’d felt anything but apathy. Things followed their planned course, and he did what was expected of him, going through the movements. He liked his life just fine. He bought what he wanted, had his pick of people to fuck, and killed anyone who got in his way. No one surprised him. Not when people were so damned predictable.

Rose surprised him when she shot him. Oh, he’d known she was capable of it. She wouldn’t have maintained her position as Romanov heir if she wasn’t willing to get her hands dirty.

But she shot him.

He’d seen her mask fall away in that moment, the regret and fury and something unknowable in her hazel eyes. Even with that regret, she hadn’t hesitated to pull the trigger. She hadn’t let her emotions dictate her actions. She’d used cold, ruthless logic and done what needed to be done.

Dante respected the fuck out of that.

He couldn’t enjoy the revelation, though. Not when she immediately turned around and put Romeo Capparelli’s engagement ring on her finger. The second she signed the contract and kissed him in a church full of their people, she was beyond Dante’s reach.

Yeah, no, that wasn’t going to happen. She was the first romantic partner to surprise him, to challenge him, and he wasn’t ready to let her go, engagement to another man or no.

He picked up his phone and typed out a text.

Get the jet ready. I’ll be coming in hot.

Dante studied the church. He didn’t get why they’d decided to hold the wedding outside of the city, but he had to admit the little building on the hill in the country looked like something out of a picture. It didn’t make sense. This was the kind of place the girl Rose had been pretending to be would want to get married in. Not the furious woman who looked him in the face when she pulled the trigger.

In the three months since she shot him, his girl had been busy wedding planning. Dante didn’t have much experience with weddings beyond showing up for the party, but it seemed like it should have taken longer. From his vantage point, he counted a dozen enforcers around the perimeter of the church, all obvious in their ill-fitting suits and tense stances. Three families of importance would be here today. Four, technically, though it had been a long time since people talked about the Sheridans in Boston without attaching the O’Malleys to their name.

There were so fucking many of them. Rose had six O’Malley aunts and uncles, and most of them had wed and bred. The Capparellis were just as bad, and the Romanovs even worse.

Ivan from Texas was here, still big and healthy-looking despite the fact he had to be in his seventies. Kirill was here with his family, too, so Dante didn’t know what his uncle had been bitching about. Even Sasha from Seattle had shown up, and he never left his territory.

Dante’s hand hovered over the gun holstered at his hip. It was a long shot, but he’d made longer. Removing Kirill Romanov would be satisfying in the extreme. Dante didn’t have the same fervor for family the way most people in this life did, but even he would sleep better with that man six feet under. Kirill was smart and brutal, and Lorenzo was rapidly losing ground to him. The old man just wasn’t good enough. That would change when Matteo took over, but if Dante could take care of the problem for his cousin…

No.

The time wasn’t right.

He had other priorities today.

Dante dropped down from the branch he’d perched on and cut through the copse of trees to the north. There weren’t enough to qualify this as a forest, but it was more than enough to provide cover. The security guards were sticking close to the buildings themselves, especially as night fell.

From the information he’d gathered, Rose would be getting ready in the little cottage-looking thing next to the church. It was like something out of another life with its charming white wooden walls and stained-glass windows. There was even a gravel drive that circled it, the easier to make a quick getaway. The whole thing was a security risk, but apparently tradition superseded security for this event. Good. He typed out a quick text to his man waiting in the car.

Be ready.

Dante switched his phone over to the surveillance device he’d planted in the bridal suite last night. It had taken some time to dodge security, but ultimately he’d done it inside an hour. Pathetic. If he’d wanted to hide in a fucking closet at that point, he could have massacred the entire bridal party this morning in one fell swoop.

Really, he expected better of both Romanov and Capparelli.

His phone gave static for a moment, but it cleared almost immediately into a flurry of women’s voices. He knew the names, knew the faces, but he had only met Rose, so could only guess at the identities of the other speakers.

“Are you sure?” The speaker had a dry tone that was just as empty as Dante’s normally. “It’s not too late for me to put a bullet between Romeo’s eyes.”

“No. I’m going through with it.” There she was. Rose. He smiled a little at how irritated she sounded. “Besides, it would make more sense to kill him after the wedding and make me a widow.”

“Except it wouldn’t make sense at all.” This one sounded sweet and innocent. A feat for a mafia princess. “Mama and Papa negotiated a decent prenup, but if one of you dies mysteriously—or violently—then the consequences are hefty.”

“Thank you, Sasha. I most definitely wouldn’t have realized that on my own.”

They devolved into squabbling, and he turned down the volume and rounded the corner. The twilight gave the area an expectant edge, or maybe that was just his anticipation coloring everything. It was almost time.

“I need a minute.”

He clued back into the conversation with interest. Rose sounded frazzled as fuck. Good. She cursed when her sisters tried to question her. “Just a fucking minute, okay. Just…I’ll be out when it’s time to walk down the aisle. I just need to get my head on straight.”

Dante grinned. Damn, she really was making this easy on him, wasn’t she? He slid behind a tree with direct view of the door in time to see a cluster of women leave. There was Anya, the likeliest owner of the cold voice, and Sasha and Lorelei, women who could have been twins, with their plump bodies and sweet faces. Next came Keira Romanov. He’d seen pictures of her when she was younger, and she used to look nearly identical to Rose with her petite frame, dark hair, and hazel eyes. Time had softened her, thickening her waistline, and smudging her sharp jawline. She was still a beauty, though.

Last came one of Rose’s aunts on her mother’s side, Carrigan O’Malley. She had to be sixty, but she still strode like she was walking on a runway. This was a woman who owned every space she strode into. A woman who was dangerous. She turned a sharp gaze on the trees, and he moved back into the shadows, holding his breath until she turned and headed for the church.

Keira motioned to the enforcer near the corner of the building. “Escort her to the church when she’s ready.” She looped her arm through her sister’s, and they disappeared into the growing darkness.

Dante waited thirty long seconds before he moved. He tossed a rock in the opposite direction. Predictably, the enforcer turned toward the sound. It was the last thing he did. Dante rushed up behind him, pressed his gun to the man’s back, and pulled the trigger twice. The silencer did its work, and the man barely got a gurgle out before he collapsed. Dante eased the body to the ground, took a moment to straighten his cuffs, and typed out a quick text to his driver.

Now.

It was time to go get his girl.

He didn’t bother to knock. He just opened the door and stepped into the suite. It was a fucking mess. Makeup and clothes were scattered across every available surface. It looked like a bomb of girly shit had gone off. And in the middle of the chaos stood Rose herself.

“I said I need—” She looked up and met his gaze in the full-length mirror in front of her. She was wearing the same dress she’d tried on three times at the fancy little shop, the one that hugged her curves and looked like someone had spilled diamonds over her body. Her dark hair was styled up, leaving her long neck exposed. She even had a fucking veil pinned.

Dante didn’t like it. No, that was too mild. He fucking loathed it.

She turned slowly to face him, and he raised his gun. “Move slowly, Rose. Don’t try to go for that gun in the drawer.”

“Seems you’re familiar with the place.” She lifted her hands slowly, which only served to show off the dress even more. Christ, she was flawless. A perfect body, a gorgeous face, and ice water running in her veins. If the circumstances were any different, he’d enjoy this moment immensely.

But Rose wasn’t dressed to perfection to walk down the aisle to him.

The thought of Romeo fucking Capparelli peeling this dress off her body had Dante seeing red. “What the fuck were you thinking choosing this one?” He motioned at the offending garment. “Do you want every man in that place to picture fucking you?”

Her brows winged up. “Half of the men in that place are related to me. But as for the rest?” She shrugged as much as she could with her arms raised. “Why stop with the men?” Her voice was perfectly even and in control, as if she faced down her exes holding guns on her every day. “I don’t know what you’re aiming to accomplish, but it won’t work. If you kill me, you’ll have the entire Romanov family, both stateside and in Mother Russia, gunning for you. Not to mention the Capparellis might decide to stop pussyfooting around and finally stamp out your clan for good.”

He made an impatient motion with the gun, and she flinched. “Turn around, Rosa. Put your hands at the small of your back.”

She considered him for a long moment. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Don’t you d—” He lunged forward as she dove for the gun hidden in the vanity drawer. She was quick, but he was quicker. Dante caught her around the waist and yanked her back against his chest. She started struggling but immediately went still when he pressed his gun to her temple.

Fuck, she smelled good.

He shook his head sharply. Not yet. Patience.

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Even now, even shaking in a way she couldn’t hide, she still managed to sound dry and unimpressed. Dante clasped her throat in a rough grip and turned them to face the mirror. She was breathing a little too fast, but she didn’t look away. He raked his gaze over the gown one last time. “I’m going to enjoy cutting this off you.”

“Do it, and you won’t live to see the dawn.”

“You had your chance to end this. It’s my turn now.”

She tensed even more. “It’s bad luck to kill a bride right before her wedding.”

Dante laughed. “I’m not going to kill you, Rosa. I’m going to claim what’s mine.”

Chapter 4

Rose needed to do something. Scream. Fight. Make enough of a ruckus that someone would come looking. Dante must have killed the muscle Mama had guarding the bridal suite. She couldn’t think about that right now, not with the man himself pressed against her back, holding a gun to her head, and bracketing her throat. Had his hands always been so large?

He didn’t look like Jackson Smith any longer. In the last three months, he’d gotten a haircut and shaved his beard. The man studying her in the mirror was every inch what she’d expect of Dante Verducci. Too handsome. Lean and dangerous. His golden hair styled back from his face.

But she didn’t scream. She didn’t fight. She blinked, her mind tumbling over itself as she tried to process his unexpected words. “I’m not yours.”

“Yeah, you really are.”

“No. I’m not. Everything we had was a lie.”

He met her gaze in the mirror, dark eyes giving away nothing. “Are you sure?”

Was she sure? What kind of question was that? As if she hadn’t tormented herself for three long months, trying to divide out what was real and what wasn’t. She couldn’t, and because she couldn’t, the only path forward was to believe everything had been a lie. “Yes, I’m sure.” She had to be.

“Don’t move.” He cast a quick glance around the room and seemed to come to some conclusion. Dante released her and stepped back.

She didn’t hesitate. Rose moved on instinct, aiming for the gun he’d correctly guessed was within the drawer of the vanity. He cursed and grabbed her hair, yanking her back. Pain shot through her scalp, but she’d lived with pain before. Rose kept fighting. Dante cursed again, and then she was airborne.

She landed on his shoulder hard enough to drive her breath from her lungs. That moment of disorientation was all he needed. He stalked to the door of the bridal suite and shoved it open.

“No,” Rose moaned. God, her stomach hurt. This was fucking ridiculous. She’d hesitated, and she been taught better than that. Papa was going to kick her ass. Fuck, Mama was going to kick her ass.

A dark car idled on the gravel driveway just a few feet away. Dante didn’t hesitate. He strode to the trunk as it popped open and dropped her into it. Rose tried to sit up, but he shoved her down, leaning over to get in her face. “It would be a real shame if you screamed and got one of your family members killed.”

She glared even as fear trilled through her. “My family can take you.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t seem too concerned. He was too close; it felt like he’d blocked out the entire sky with his gorgeous, deadly face. “But I’m a hell of a shot. There will be losses. Are you willing to risk it?” Dante smiled, the expression ice cold. “Might even be one of your sisters. Sasha and Lorelei are smart enough to stay back, stay safe. But Anya?”

He was right. Anya would charge into any fight without hesitation, especially if she thought Rose was in trouble. Rose narrowed her eyes. “If you kill one of my sisters, my father will cut off your head and send it to your family. That’s not even getting into what my mother will do before you die.”

“And yet your precious sister will still be dead.” He pressed a hand to her chest, the contact searing through her with a jolt. “Choose, Rosa. Come quietly or risk the consequences.”

“My name isn’t Rosa.” She said it mostly to buy time. Surely someone would notice the car where it wasn’t supposed to be? Except if they noticed it, Dante’s threat would become reality. She had to decide now. Was she willing to live with the consequences?

If he wanted her dead, he would have shot her in the bridal suite and left her for her family or Romeo to find. Whatever his goals, her murder wasn’t part of them. That had to be good enough.

As long as he didn’t intend to kill her, she could wait for an opportunity and finish what she started three months ago. Romeo would be pissed about the postponed wedding, but if she took a page out of her father’s book and sent him Dante’s head? She had a feeling he’d get over it.

Maybe it was the wrong call. She didn’t know. She couldn’t think with Dante touching her, with the threat of her family being harmed held over her head. This was what she’d been trained for, to be able to make quick-fire decisions under duress, but the only thing she could focus on was that some consequences were too high a price.

She’d deal with Romeo and smoothing over the situation once she got free. That could be rectified. If someone she loved died, they’d stay dead.

Rose licked her lips, achingly aware of how Dante followed the movement. Apparently he hadn’t been faking that. She could use this, couldn’t she? She’d be a fool not to. She reached up and hesitantly covered his hand with hers. “Okay. You’ll have your way. I’ll come quietly.”

He stared down at her for a long moment. “We’ll see.” Dante straightened, and she got a momentary view of the stars overhead before he slammed the trunk shut.

“Fuck,” Rose breathed. It took everything she had to stay still as the car started moving slowly, crunching along the gravel. She mapped the area in her head. They took the turn slowly that would bring them back around to the front of the church. She pressed her lips together, not sure if she wanted them to get away without a fight or for someone to question what this strange vehicle was doing.

Except that was the problem. With so many parties in play, there were a lot of strange vehicles around the church right now. No single family would be able to account for all of them, especially nondescript black town cars like this one.

Rose blinked up into the inky blackness of the trunk. “That motherfucker threw me in a trunk.” She could barely process that Dante Verducci had the balls to show up in her presence again, let alone to crash her wedding.

The car took a turn and picked up speed. They were on the highway now, but god knew where they’d end up. She felt around for the trunk release latch, only for her fingers to encounter a jagged piece where it’d been broken off. Next, she prodded the area around the taillights. It had been taped or something, so she wouldn’t be able to pop one out.

He’d planned for this.

Of course, he had. It’s not like he caught her wandering down the street in the city and nabbed her in a crime of opportunity. Dante planned this, and he’d thoroughly blocked off her exits.

He won’t kill me, she repeated to herself. Anything else, she could come back from.

Rose shifted, but her dress was too tight to get comfortable. Damn it, she couldn’t believe this had happened. It wasn’t like kidnapping was exactly unheard of in the life, but most of the time, when someone was snatched, they were either ransomed or never heard from again.

Dante wouldn’t ransom her. The Verducci family wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass to her uncle Kirill if they didn’t have plenty of resources. And if he wanted to make an example of her, killing her right before the wedding was about as big an example as she could come up with. No, he had something else in mind.

I’m going to claim what’s mine.

A shiver of unease went through her. Surely he didn’t mean what it seemed like he meant. Dante Verducci was not going to risk it all for her. He lied. He pretended to be someone he wasn’t. And she… Honestly, she did the same. She’d kept herself toned down for him, catering to the image of the woman she’d been the first night they’d met. Their relationship, fake though it was, had been so fucking normal. Not the kind of love story written in the stars. Certainly not the kind that would turn the head of a dangerous man like Dante Verducci.

Surely not enough to go to war over.

War might be the whole point, though. Maybe it had little to do with her and everything to do with her current position. By snatching her before she could marry Romeo, he’d put the Romanov-Capparelli alliance in danger. Surely they were more likely to go to war with the Verduccis though, weren’t they?

She didn’t know.

Romeo was intelligent and manipulative and proud. How he’d react to this situation could go either way. Fuck. She had to get out of here. If there was a war with the Italians, it wouldn’t matter that she’d stopped a single shoot-out at the church, because the casualties would add up quickly. She should have thought of that in the moment, but all she’d been able to focus on was how nearly every single member of her family was in that church.

Her parents. Her sisters. Her aunts and uncles and cousins. All of them.

There was a way through this. She just needed to think.

Rose settled in as best she could and focused on breathing slowly to calm her racing thoughts. Except, apparently, she calmed herself too much because the next thing she knew, she was jolted awake by the car stopping.

She blinked into the darkness, but there wasn’t any indication of how long she’d been out or where they were now. It would be ideal to be able to spring into motion the moment Dante opened the trunk, but her legs were cramped, and she was pretty sure her back would never be the same again. She’d be lucky if she could walk immediately after standing, let alone fight her way free and run.

Damn it.

She barely had time to tense when the trunk clicked and light streamed in. Dante lifted her out without a word and tossed her over his shoulder. Apparently she wouldn’t even be pretending to fight. She hung there like a sack of potatoes as pins and needles shot through her legs. Ow. Rose bit her bottom lip to keep from making a sound and tried to take in her surroundings.

She’d hoped he’d find somewhere to hole up with her. A penthouse would be ideal, but even a remote cabin would be better than all this asphalt and the distant roar of engines. The second she placed her location, she went cold.

No.

An airport. Specifically, a private hangar without a single person around.

Dante took the short stairway up to the door into the private plane and ducked down just enough to prevent her back from dragging along the top of the entrance. Inside wasn’t overly spacious, but it was plush and extravagant. The Romanovs didn’t have a private plane; they simply chartered one on the rare occasions they needed to travel. Was this owned by the Verduccis, or was it chartered? The former wouldn’t help her, but she might be able to work with the latter.

Dante dropped her onto one of the chairs and casually grasped her throat, pinning her to the back of it. He wasn’t choking her, but the threat was there all the same. He leaned down until their faces were even, his dark eyes cold. “You have a choice, Rosa.”

Hearing her name in Italian on his tongue made her stomach do strange things. She dragged in a breath, trying to focus. What was her best play right now? If she gave in too easily, he’d suspect something was going on, but if she fought him, she risked him tying her up and gagging her for the entire trip to…wherever they were headed. She couldn’t offer the pilot double what they were making with the Verduccis to turn the plane around if she were bound and gagged.

She finally settled for neutral. “I’m listening.”

He studied her expression for a long moment. She still couldn’t get over how different this man was from the one she dated. He was so cold, she honestly expected frostbite from where his palm met the sensitive skin of her throat. As if sensing her thoughts, he gave her throat a squeeze. A clear warning. “You can play nice and enjoy a comfortable plane ride.”

“Or?”

His lips curved the barest amount. “Or I will take you into the back room and tie you to the bed there.”

Fury flared, so strong, she had to close her eyes to keep it contained. “It’s beneath you to threaten that.”

“Threaten what, Rosa? Keeping my woman from harming herself?” Another squeeze. “Or from attempting to bribe the pilot to turn the plane around?”

She opened her eyes before she could control herself. “What?”

“Give me a little credit. You might have played the clueless co-ed, but you’re not a fool.” He chuckled, the sound dry and mirthless. “Choose.”

“I’m twenty-seven. Hardly a co-ed.”

“Choose,” he repeated.

Ultimately, she wasn’t doing anything that would make him decide he was justified in tying her to a bed. “I’ll be a good little captive.”

“Smart girl.” He released her and straightened. “Don’t move.” He turned and walked to the door at the front of the plane. It opened just enough for her to catch sight of a thin Black man at the controls, but they spoke too softly for her to pick up the words.

She carefully massaged her legs, easing the last of the pins-and-needles feeling. The door was still… Except no, it wasn’t still open. Even as she watched, it made an automated sound and eased closed. She was well and truly trapped.

Fuck.

She looked around the plane slowly, keeping one eye on Dante. It was posh and generic, and there wasn’t a single thing that didn’t seem to be bolted down. There certainly wasn’t a conveniently placed phone for her to call out with. Even if she’d been able to, she didn’t know where they were going or what waited for her there. Attacking Dante once they were in the air wasn’t a great plan even if she succeeded in taking him out; she didn’t know what kind of situation they’d be landing in. If he was taking her to LA, then showing up with his head bashed in was a good way to get herself shot.

No, her play had to be the good-girl route until she had more information and an exit strategy.

Dante strode back toward her as the plane jerked into motion. He had the same basic features at the man she’d dated, but it was like looking at a stranger. He wore a white button-down that somehow didn’t have a speck of dirt on it and a pair of slacks, but the difference was more than the clothes. This man moved like a predator; sure he was the most dangerous person in the room.

Fool.

She didn’t know if she meant Dante or herself. She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen for his lies, that she’d thought he was normal. She flat out couldn’t believe she’d fallen for him.

“Take it off.”

Rose started. “Excuse me?”

He dropped into the chair across from her and swept his hand in a motion that encompassed her entire body. “That fucking dress. The one you were going to wear to marry Romeo Capparelli. Take it off. Now.”

Chapter 5

A normal person would be terrified and rumpled after spending several hours in a trunk. Rose Romanov just looked as gorgeous as she had when he walked into the bridal suite. Her lipstick wasn’t even smudged. She hid her emotions well, but Dante could see the fury simmering in her hazel eyes. It was the same fury she’d worn when she shot him. Twice.

When they’d dated, they never fought. Dante had worked hard to dull all his sharp edges and not do anything to piss her off. In turn, she wasn’t one of those people who looked for an excuse to get her back up. The first time he’d seen her made was when she’d had the gun in her hand.

As a result, he had little frame of reference for how this would play out. He relished the anticipation that curled through him. Oh yeah, this was going to be good.

She pressed her hands flat to her thighs, currently encased in that fucking wedding dress. When she spoke, her words were clipped and dry. “I’m sorry, I thought you just told me to take off my dress. But that couldn’t possibly be right because you’re not a monster.”

He almost laughed. If she thought she could play to his better side, she would be sorely disappointed to learn he didn’t have a better side. “If you make me repeat myself, I’ll hold you down and cut it off you.”

Rose tensed. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” He kept his posture relaxed, easy. Just as easy as his words. He watched her closely, though. At this point, this interaction could go two ways. Either she folded or she doubled down.

They both fell silent and still as the plane picked up speed. His stomach went weightless for a brief moment as they took to the air, but all he felt was relief. They were untouchable for the moment. All hell would be waiting to break loose the moment they landed, but until then, he could focus entirely on the woman before him. “I’d hate to cut up that pretty skin on accident, but I sure as fuck wouldn’t hate to cut off your panties in the process.”

“Pig.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. Choose, Rosa.”

She pushed to her feet. Rose reached around behind her, the position making her breasts press precariously against the front of her dress. She cursed. “I can’t do it myself. It took two of my sisters to get me into this dress.”

“Why did you pick this one?”

She arched a brow and swept a hand over her body. “Look at me, Dante. Romeo Capparelli is the head of his family. If I have any hope of coming out on top of our interactions, that means playing dirty. You were partially right before. I don’t care about the other men in the room, but I sure as hell want my new husband to want to fuck me so badly, he’s not thinking straight.”

Jealousy scoured him. “Romeo will never touch you.”

“That remains to be seen.”

He would appreciate her stubbornness later, perhaps. Right now, he wanted to snarl and snap until she admitted her marriage to that bastard was dead in the water. He motioned with his fingers. “Turn around.”

“Why?”

“You said you need help with the dress.” He made a show of looking around. “I see no one else around. Do you?”

“You could just let me keep it on.”

Absolutely fucking not. He held her gaze, letting her see that she wasn’t the only one furious right now. Dante would not hesitate to hold her down and cut off that fucking dress, and she finally seemed to understand exactly how serious he was.

Rose held up both hands. “If you cut me, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Turn around,” he repeated.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she rotated to face away from him. Dante exhaled soundlessly as he took her in. The dress looked like it had no back, just a row of tiny little buttons going down her spine to the small of her back where the white fabric rose to meet it. Her ass was truly a masterpiece, round and high, and when he was playing Jackson Smith, he’d had to resist the urge to set his teeth against the tight curve. Jackson Smith liked his sex sweet and easy, and Dante had been forced to keep himself tightly leashed to maintain the role.

He wasn’t playing a role now.

He grabbed her hips, ignoring her squawk of protest, and pulled her back until she stood between his thighs. Touching her instantly eased something in him. She wasn’t walking down the aisle to Romeo Capparelli. She wasn’t putting his ring on her finger or driving him wild with lust as he worked to get her out of this masterpiece of a dress.

She was here, with Dante. “Hold perfectly still.”

“I’m going to gut you. Rough and messy. You’ll be left standing there, holding your intestines, and regretting ever meeting me. It will be lovely.” She said it so pleasantly, he grinned. Vicious little beast, wasn’t she?

He pulled his switchblade from his pocket and opened it with a near-silent swish. She heard it, though, because she tensed even more. Dante considered his options. Top to bottom, he decided. He reached up and flicked the blade against the top button. It fell to the ground, leaving the flesh-colored mesh fabric to part and reveal her actual skin beneath. He repeated the process, working his way down. He held his breath, barely resisting the urge to do anything about inch after inch of her bare skin being revealed right there in front of him.

He wanted to taste her, to touch her, to toss her to the floor and fuck her until she forgot all about marrying Romeo fucking Capparelli. Until she admitted she belonged to Dante and Dante alone.

Patience.

He didn’t have much to pull from. When he wanted something, he took it, and people fell all over themselves getting out of his way while he did. That wouldn’t work with Rose. Maybe it shouldn’t excite him to know that his identity actually made her harder to seduce, that she would fight him until he proved his dominance, but Dante liked what he liked.

Right now, he liked Rose.

He reached the end of the buttons and cut the last one free. She’d moved her hands to her chest, holding the dress in place, and he allowed it for now. The muscles on either side of her spine flexed as she shifted, shaking just a little bit. In fear? Desire? He couldn’t tell. Not without seeing her face, and even then, he couldn’t be sure.

Not when she lied just as well as he did.

He dragged the flat of his knife down her spine, mostly to see what she’d do. Other than sucking in a sharp breath, she gave no response. Interesting. He considered her another moment and then set the knife aside. The little zipper at the small of her back tried to stick, but he muscled it down, dragging it along the curve of her ass. There.

Dante took her hips again, dipping his hands beneath the now-loose fabric. “Let go.”

“Fuck off.”

“Rosa.” He put enough threat into his voice to make her tense. “Let go.”

She sighed in exasperation and her hands dropped to her sides. The dress immediately went slack, and he slid his hands down the outside of her thighs, pushing the fabric ahead of him. Beneath it, she wore only a pair of red panties, the kind that were cut high against her ass. Not quite a thong, but not full coverage, either. He dragged his hands back up to her hips and traced his thumbs over the lace. “Aren’t brides supposed to wear white?”

“I wasn’t planning on playing the virgin for my new husband, so no.”

Rage rose in a red wave to match her panties. It nearly swept him under. He inhaled slowly, letting her scent consume him. It didn’t matter what she’d planned on doing to—with—Romeo Capparelli. She was here now, with him. That motherfucker would never touch her. Unless… His grip tightened on her hips. “Did you fuck him already, Rosa?”

“Yes. Definitely. In every position. He made me come so hard, I forgot my name, and then he fucked my ass and did it again.”

He spun her to face him, catching her hips again when she nearly toppled. Having Rose’s perfect tits right at eye level nearly derailed him, but her words still rang in his ears. “You don’t like anal.”

“The co-ed you dated didn’t like anal, Jackson.” She was beautiful in her fury, eyes blazing, and skin flushed. She leaned down and gripped the top of his seat. Dante didn’t mean to retreat, but his back found the seat all the same. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he had a moment to curse the fact he was still wearing clothes before she kept speaking, her voice low and vicious. “I didn’t bother to pretend with Romeo. I sucked his cock in the back seat of his car, fucked him in the coat room of our favorite restaurant, and let him finger me whenever he fucking felt like it. He makes it so good, and I’m always wet for him. I never faked it with him.”

She was lying. She had to be.

Except he couldn’t be sure.

Dante grabbed the back of her knees and jerked, yanking her down to straddle him. Rose instantly tried to push away, but he just pulled her closer, sealing them together. “You never faked it with me. Admit it.” He might have held himself back during sex, but he’d always made it good for her. He was sure of it.

“Feeling insecure, baby?” She gave a low laugh. “Someone likes hearing me talk about fucking his enemy.” She rolled her hips, rubbing herself along his hard cock. “Poor Dante. It’s okay that you need to be told what good sex is. I’d say someday you’ll figure it out, but I’m going to kill you before you get a chance.”

She truly was glorious like this, even if every instinct he had demanded he punish her for the shit she spewed. She was lying. Dante dug one hand into her mass of dark hair and forced her down to press her forehead against his. “Let’s get two things straight, Rosa.”

“That’s not my name.”

He ignored that. “First, I don’t give a fuck if you’ve slept your way through the entirety of New York in the last three months. It’s over now.”

“The fuck it is. I—”

“Two.” He stroked his free hand up her thigh and brushed his knuckles against her lower stomach just above the line of her panties. She froze, a little tremor lighting up her body. “You held back with me every hour that we were together. Kept your sharp edges blunted and your vicious little streak well hidden. Do you honestly think it’s any different with me, right down to the way we fucked?”

She jerked back and he let her. Rose stared down at him. “What?”

“I faked it.” He took entirely too much pleasure throwing her words from three months ago back in her face. “When I fuck you next—and I will—there will be no reason to hold back. You’ll beg me for more.”

“You bastard.” She said it slowly, almost in a daze. “You gave me mediocre sex on purpose.”

“Call it what you want.” Dante dipped his thumb beneath the band of her panties. Just enough to breach that barrier, but he didn’t touch her the way he really wanted to. Not yet. “Let’s not throw stones from glass houses. You never said a single fucking word, never complained, just took what I gave you and didn’t ask for more. So, if the sex was mediocre, I’m not the only one to blame.”

“I hate you.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.” She pushed on his chest again. This time, he released her. Rose staggered to her feet and glared. “Touch me again, and I’ll make you regret it.”

He raised his brows. “Keep saying that, but I have a wet spot on my pants that makes a liar out of you.”

She turned away. “Sounds like a you problem, Dante.”

He watched her put a swing in her step as she walked away from him, disappearing through the door into the room with the bed. Only then did Dante allow himself a small smile. “Game on, Rosa.”

Chapter 6

Rose closed the door between her and Dante and stopped short. There, sitting in the middle of the bed, was a cell phone. She stared for a long moment and then moved around the bed to the bathroom. It took a few minutes to take care of business, but she had no more clarity by the time she returned.

At least Dante hadn’t followed her in.

She snorted. Of course, he hadn’t followed her in. Why would he press her when there was a neatly laid trap just sitting on the bed, waiting to be sprung? This phone was obviously left here on purpose. She stared at it, feeling like she was looking down the barrel of a gun. Rose was so fucking tired. Her thoughts felt sluggish and, at the same time, too zippy to focus properly. Dante had outplayed her at every turn, and even though she was pretty sure she’d made the right call back at the church, she couldn’t be sure.

She couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.

What motivation could he possibly have for her to call home? She was his prisoner, his captive. Better to keep her isolated until he accomplished whatever he’d set out to do. No matter what Dante said, she didn’t honestly believe he was there for her.

To disrupt her marriage with Romeo Capparelli and send both the Capparelli and Romanov families tailspinning into a war? Definitely.

Because somehow he’d seen her shooting him as foreplay? Absolutely not.

Or…

She barely dared think it, but she wouldn’t get through this by shying away from her deepest thoughts. She took a slow breath and faced the most unrealistic of the options.

That it had felt real for him, too. That maybe he’d gone and fallen for the pared down version of her the same way she’d fallen for the false version of him. How much of what they’d shared was real?

Rose shook her head. Impossible. It didn’t matter if he’d dropped tidbits from his real life during their time together. She’d dug deep into him for the last three months and his mother was dead, and he did have a truly complicated relationship with his uncle. She’d expected the truth to give her some closure, but all she had was more questions.

Better to focus on the here and now, starting with the phone.

Really, Dante had no reason to give her the opportunity to call home. On the other hand, what valid information did she have to give her family even if she called them now? She didn’t know where she was headed or what he intended. He’d no doubt taken precautions to ensure they couldn’t track the phone’s location. Really, he risked nothing by allowing her this. She still didn’t understand why.

Rose picked up the phone. She needed to tell her family that she was alive and pass on what little information she had. All she really knew was that Dante Verducci had kidnapped her.

Sharing that bit of intel would have consequences. Fuck. Everything would have consequences right now, none of them good. The Capparellis were going to be pissed. Papa and Mama would be pissed. She’d wager even her uncles Aiden and Teague would be pissed. She wasn’t as close to them as some of her family members, but she was still half O’Malley, and neither of them would take this kind of attack without wanting to strike back. Family was family, no matter how complicated.

But if she didn’t call?

Her parents would know she’d never run from the wedding on her own power. Romeo, though? She couldn’t be sure. He might accuse them of breaking faith, which would start a rock rolling down a hill that no one could stop. They had to avoid war, no matter the cost. Failing to do so would mean people she cared about ending up dead.

At least if her family and Romeo knew who took her, they could direct their fury at the Verduccis instead of each other. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. If that were true, though, why was Dante giving her a blatant invitation to call home? Surely he’d want to keep things hush-hush for as long as possible? It was in his best interest to have Romanovs and Capparellis at each other’s throats.

Rose couldn’t afford to make any assumptions at all right now.

She absolutely refused to think about how he carefully cut off her dress and then touched her like… Like she was already his and he had every right to her. The man was out of his goddamn mind if he thought he could just roll in like this after lying to her and giving her mediocre sex for months and act like they could pick up right where they left off.

Jesus, Rose. The thing you should be most furious about is the kidnapping, not the fact that he held back during sex.

She ignored that snide little voice inside her and snatched up the phone. No matter how much time she wasted looking at angles for this, the truth was that she couldn’t let her family worry. She glanced at the door leading to the rest of the plane and, after the barest consideration, dialed Lorelei.

Really, she was the only choice. Sasha, soft sweetheart that she was, would just cry if Rose called her. Anya would spend the entire conversation trying to figure out where she was so she could show up and peel Dante’s skin off while he was still alive. Her parents? They were fierce and savvy and usually able to see all the angles of any given situation, but she couldn’t guarantee that would hold true with one of their daughters in danger.

The year after Rose graduated high school, when Lorelei was a freshman, her sister had skipped school with some fool boy she’d liked. It was a relatively innocent thing; the kind of shit kids did all the time. But she’d turned off her phone.

Mama and Papa lost their damn minds. By the time Lorelei showed up hours later, a hickey on neck and a satisfied expression on her face, not only had their parents marshaled a search party bristling with guns, but they’d had Mama’s family in Boston on standby, too.

Living in a mostly peaceful time hadn’t dulled the memories of the past. Rose knew their history, of course; it was one of the first things she was taught when her parents decided she was old enough to start learning the ropes. But it wasn’t until that day with Lorelei that she realized how deep those scars went…or how badly some of them had healed.

No, she couldn’t trust her parents to be rational right now. Better they get the information secondhand.

With another suspicious glance at the door, she dialed Lorelei’s number from memory. Her sister answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“It’s me.” She spoke in Russian since she was reasonably sure Dante didn’t know the language, so even if he was listening in, it provided some secrecy.

“Rose?” She immediately lowered her voice. “Where are you? We’ve been looking everywhere—”

“Dante Verducci kidnapped me,” she cut in. Rose glanced at the door. She didn’t know how much time she had, and she needed to get the information to her sister. “He took me from the bridal suite minutes after you all left.”

Lorelei sucked in a breath. Rose waited, but her sister didn’t make her wait long. When she spoke again, she’d wrestled her shock and other messy emotions under control. Lorelei always was good in a crisis. “I see.”

Rose wanted to ask how everyone was, but first she needed a better idea of the situation. “How long have I been gone? What’s happening there?”

“A little over six hours. The situation is…tense. Our parents and Romeo organized a search party, but when that didn’t turn up anything, things devolved quickly. Aunt Carrigan had to intervene and suggest everyone take a walk to cool off, but it’s only a bandage. We need you back here, and fast.”

Rose sank to perch on the edge of the bed. It was exactly as she feared. Papa might normally be known for his cool head, but with her missing, both he and Mama would be on edge and not thinking clearly. Romeo was also normally chilled to the bone, but his pride would demand to be compensated for essentially being left at the altar. Shit. “Unfortunately, that’s not going to be an option. I’m on a plane, and I don’t know our destination.”

A beat of silence. Finally, Lorelei said slowly, “I was under the impression that if you were able to call, you’d knifed the bastard and escaped.”

The mention of knife had a phantom blade stroking down her spine the same way Dante had done it earlier. A threat. It was most certainly a threat. He surely hadn’t meant it to be seductive, and she sure as hell hadn’t felt a little tremor of desire in response. Rose sucked in a breath and tried to focus. “He left me a phone.”

“He’s that confident?” Lorelei hesitated. “That’s bad.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Rose…”

“Tell me everything.” There wasn’t much she could do from here, not at this moment, but better to know the full spectrum of the mess so she had some idea of how to fix it when she got back. Because she would be fixing it.

“It’s a mess.” Her sister sighed. “Last I heard, Romeo is threatening war for the insult of being left at the altar. I don’t think finding out that Dante Verducci kidnapped you is going to help. It might even make the situation worse. Every time Romeo makes a comment about you not fulfilling your promises, that vein in Papa’s temple pulses. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps. Weirdly, Mama is being the calmest, but I think it’s because she’s in crisis mode. And Carrigan is helping.”

Rose closed her eyes and tried to think. There was a way out of this puzzle. There had to be. The easy solution was for her to escape and get back there to marry Romeo before things truly went past the point of no return, but they’d reach that point sooner rather than later with so many tempers simmering at surface level. She couldn’t rely on her parents right now, not when so much of their concern would be with her safety and not with the greater Romanov power base.

She closed her eyes. The thing she needed most was the one thing she couldn’t guarantee. Time. “Lorelei, I need you to stall them.”

“What?”

“You have to stall. Keep our parents calm. Do something to keep Romeo occupied. Under no circumstances are we to go to war with the Italians. The cost is too high.” Once again, she couldn’t stop the rising guilt that threatened to choke her. She’d fucked up. This was her fault. If she’d fought Dante, maybe people would have gotten hurt, but at least it wouldn’t be a war. She’d been so sure she was ready to take over the family business and let her parents enjoy an actual retirement. So sure she was ready to be a good leader for their people. Look at her now.

Tricked by Dante Verducci.

Kidnapped by Dante Verducci.

Singlehandedly starting the first war in decades. Not even her father had managed that with all the bullshit he pulled with Mama’s family. Hell, even her mother’s family had avoided it despite high costs during the skirmishes between the O’Malleys, Sheridans, and Hallorans in Boston. Rose truly was a boundary breaker, but not in the way her parents had intended by having a daughter as the heir.

All the bullshit she’d fielded from Papa’s Russian cousins came rushing back. They doubted her because of her gender, and she’d been so damn certain they were just archaic assholes. Now, she couldn’t be so sure.

Truly, Rose was shaping up to be the worst heir the Romanov family had ever seen. The fact she was also the first woman who intended to take over? Even if she survived this, even if her entire family survived this, the greater Romanov family tree would have something to say about it. They might very well try to come in and do a full sweep, marrying her and her sisters off to secure alliances and establishing a man of their choice as leader. That’s what they wanted in the first place, after all.

No. Rose took a slow breath and forced her racing thoughts to still. This wasn’t over. There was still time to salvage things before everyone tumbled past the point of no return. She wouldn’t allow a war. She’d find a way through. She just needed time. “Please, Lorelei.”

Her sister was quiet for so long, she had to press her lips together to prevent herself from begging. She was Rose Romanov, and she didn’t beg, not even her sisters. Besides, Lorelei didn’t like to be rushed. Letting her consider her options before making a decision was the easiest way to get what Rose wanted.

“I might have an idea,” she finally said. She hardly sounded like herself, her voice wavering a little. “The cost is going to be high, Rose. Really high.”

She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll pay it.”

“You might not be the one paying it.” Something rustled on her end. “I’ll do what it takes to prevent a war. I promise. You do what it takes to cut off that motherfucker’s head and bring it back with you. I think Romeo would accept it as an apology. Maybe.”

Despite it all, Rose smiled. Sometimes Lorelei was even more bloodthirsty than Anya. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

“I mean it, Rose. Kill him. Anya’s about to start stabbing people, and Sasha hasn’t stopped crying since we realized you were missing. We need you back here.”

Sasha hadn’t stopped crying. Guilt swamped Rose. Her sister fainted at the sight of blood, hated guns, and wanted to be an artist for children’s picture books. If they were a family of black sheep, she was the pristine gray one that was better than the rest. Somewhere along the way, Rose, Anya, and Lorelei had decided to do whatever it took to preserve Sasha’s relative innocence. And now her little sister couldn’t stop crying because she was worried about Rose. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Good. I’ll handle things on this end.”

“Thank you.”

“Rose…” Lorelei hesitated. “Something I don’t get, though. Why hasn’t he killed you? If he wanted a war between the Romanovs and Capparellis, murdering you would accomplish a lot more than a simple kidnapping.”

She’d thought the same thing, but she couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her tone. “Thanks for that insight, Lorelei. That’s really comforting and not at all something I’m already worried about.”

“I don’t want you dead, you ass. I’m just saying if I were Dante and wanted to disrupt a Romanov-Capparelli alliance, I’d make an example of you and leave your body to be found.” She was silent for a beat. “Or maybe wait until after the wedding and kill you in your wedding bed. There’d be no coming back from that for Romeo.”

“Lorelei.” Rose glanced at the door again. Where was Dante? Even if he was listening in, it wasn’t like she’d said anything he could use. Still, better to get off the phone and start coming up with a plan. “Your attempts to be comforting are failing spectacularly.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yes, well, you can take your just saying and fuck off. If he wanted me dead, he’d have done it already, so I have at least a little advantage here. In theory. I don’t know what he wants, but I mean to find out. Before I kill him, of course.”

“Of course.” Raised voices in the background. Lorelei sighed. “I have to go. I think Papa is about to punch Romeo in the face, and that will make this entire conversation pointless. Stay safe, Rose. Be sure to tell Verducci if he touches a hair on your head, Anya and I will grind his family to dust. Even the extended cousins who have gone straight.”

“Lorelei.”

“What? You’re my big sister, and I can’t guarantee I won’t lose my mind if something happens to you. If he’s not a total fool, that will at least give him pause.”

Rose shook her head. Sometimes Lorelei was even scarier than Anya. “I’ll be sure to pass on your message.”

“Do that. Stay safe and get back here as fast as possible.” She hung up.

Rose dropped the phone on the bed and exhaled slowly. Lorelei would handle things back home. If there was a way through this, her sister would find it. She might be the youngest, but she had the twistiest mind out of the four of them. Rose might not like the solution she came up with—it was all but guaranteed at this point—but it would be better than war.

It had to be better than war.

She stared hard at the door leading to the rest of the plane. No matter how confident she acted with her sister on the phone, the truth was her options were limited. She had no weapons handy, and she didn’t think she could take Dante in a fair fight. More, even if she could, there was sure to be a welcoming party when they landed. She’d have nowhere to run, and she didn’t like her odds of being able to even get the door to the cockpit open to attempt to bribe the pilot.

No, better to play her cards close to her chest for the time being. There were only so many places he could take her, and if he was any other guy in the life, he would head straight for his family. That was the best bet in this situation, too. She didn’t relish the thought of dealing with Lorenzo Verducci, but she’d do whatever it took to get back to her people. Even if Dante didn’t want to put her in his uncle’s hands, he’d go back to LA.

If they were in a city, her options increased dramatically. She just needed to bide her time until then. It was the only logical thing to do. She certainly wasn’t making this decision because of how thrilling it had been to go toe to toe with Dante.

Rose closed her eyes. You can do better than that. She didn’t make a habit of lying to herself. She had experienced both lust and excitement when Dante cut off her wedding dress and she threw the only weapons she had at him—her words. She liked that he didn’t flinch, that he met her at the line she drew in the sand and didn’t pull his punches.

She didn’t expect special treatment, but usually people in the life who weren’t family fell into two categories. They either put her on a strange sort of pedestal that made her uncomfortable, or they thought she was just a pretty face who happened to be born first and sought to use or manipulate her. Either way, they all came to her with smiles and sweet words.

It had even been like that with Jackson, though he wasn’t supposed to know who she was. He’d treated her like spun glass. Like she was some breakable woman who would fold under any kind of harsh treatment. She’d liked it. Of course, she’d liked it. Who didn’t want to be seen as a precious treasure?

Dante? He didn’t treat her like that at all. The way he looked at her when she pushed back? It was as if every snarl and show of strength only increased his interest.

I bet sex with this man wouldn’t be mediocre in the least.

No. That wasn’t fair. She might lie to Dante, but she wouldn’t to herself. Sex with Jackson hadn’t been mediocre. And, no matter what she’d claimed, she hadn’t faked it. It had simply been…normal. There was nothing wrong with normal, but Rose couldn’t quite argue that part of her hadn’t wanted more.

The kind of more Dante seemed to be offering.

She took a breath and then another. Okay. She’d admitted her traitorous feelings. No matter what else was true, she was only human. Her feelings weren’t actions, and they didn’t mean she was about to endanger her entire family for a few hours of potentially good cock. Her feelings existed, and she couldn’t function effectively without acknowledging them, but they did not control her.

Within a few breaths, she managed to let go of the knotted feeling in her chest. There was a way out of this. She just needed the time and patience to see it. Dante didn’t seem the type to let his guard down, even if she played nice, but continuing to threaten him wouldn’t accomplish a single damn thing. She had to try to play the game, even if she didn’t quite understand the rules.

I came to claim what’s mine.

His words from before rolled through her, making her shiver. Surely not. Surely that was just another element of some mindfuck plan he had in place. She’d shot the man, for fuck’s sake. Even people who moved in the circles they did took assault with a deadly weapon as a clear indication of a lack of romantic interest.

But if he did mean it? She could work with that.

Rose ducked back into the bathroom and did her best to freshen up. She didn’t like the idea of walking around mostly naked, so she opened the closet door to see what options she had. She blinked. A dozen identical gray button-down shirts hung in a perfect line. Next to them, a dozen pairs of black slacks. She crouched down and found two pairs of the same exact shoe. Apparently Dante wasn’t a fan of variety.

She filed that piece of information away and considered the shirts. They were plenty large enough to cover her nakedness, if not enough to make her decent, but it meant wearing Dante’s clothing.

Ah well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

She grabbed the first shirt and pulled it on, quickly buttoning it up and rolling up the sleeves. Dante wasn’t an overly large man, and she wouldn’t call him curvy by any stretch of the imagination, so the shirt stretched tight across her breasts and barely covered the lower curve of her ass. She glared down at her chest and then cursed at the way her breasts made the fabric gape. “Desperate times.” Rose undid the first few buttons. It revealed a slice of her chest, but it was still better than the alternative.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. “Well, fuck.” She looked like a woman intent on seduction, the shirt parting to give a good eyeful of cleavage and her red panties flashing in the front with every move. This couldn’t be called decent by any stretch of the imagination.

“Have a good conversation with your sister?”

She bit back a curse. She’d been so focused on whether or not she should lose the shirt that she hadn’t heard Dante approach. She should have expected this. Of course, he’d want to know how she responded to his little stunt with the phone. She still didn’t know why he’d allowed it, either.

Rose took a slow breath and turned to face him. The sight of him was a kick in the chest all over again. His features were familiar to her after months of dating, but it was like looking at a stranger wearing a mask of them. His predatory body language, the coldness in his dark eyes, even the way he wore his blond hair…all of it was unfamiliar. She should—she did—fear this man, but at the same time, she couldn’t stop the heat from flushing just beneath her skin.

Best to just push forward and ignore her body’s response to him. Of course, she would feel desire for him, even after all this. Three months ago, she’d fancied herself in love with this man—or at least a version of him. Maybe that amount of time was long enough to get over someone for most people, but all the unanswered questions had plagued Rose. She had no closure.

Plenty of closure once he’s six feet underground.

She twisted a strand of hair around her finger and smiled brightly. “Yes. Just a lovely chat. She thinks I should cut off your head and give it to my groom as a wedding present.”

He didn’t respond. At least not with words. Dante was too busy drinking in the sight of her. His dark gaze flared hot as he did a slow sweep from the top of her head to her bare toes and then back up again, lingering on her legs, on where she was certain he could see her panties, on the way the shirt gaped to display the curves of her breasts, on her mouth.

He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “You look good in my shirt, Rosa.”

She might be willing to use whatever tools were available to her, but the way her thighs clenched at his low words was downright unforgivable. Rose dropped her hand, an edge creeping into her voice. “Pure coincidence. I look good in everything.”

The desire in his eyes flared hotter in response. “I know.” Dante shook his head slowly as if trying to focus. “Which sister?”

She considered ignoring the question, but ultimately, answering might prompt him to offer more information she could hopefully use to her benefit. “Lorelei.”

“Ah. The baby.”

She couldn’t even blame his knowledge on all the research he must have done into her and her family before coming to New York. Calling Lorelei the baby was something Rose did. She had talked to him about her family, though she left out any incriminating details. She looked away. “Don’t underestimate her. Don’t underestimate any of us.”

“I’m not a fool, Rosa.”

“Could have fooled me.” She glared. “You’re fucking with the Romanovs, Dante. Even if you somehow managed to take out our entirely family, Jovan would send someone from Russian to annihilate you and everyone you love.”

He snorted. “It’s a short list, so he wouldn’t have to try very hard.”

Rose’s chest gave a strange little dip, but she ignored it. Of course, her emotions were fucked up over this man. He’d duped her, and even three months later, part of her still reeled from the knowledge that she’d trusted him with things she didn’t trust other people with.

Nothing he could use against the family, of course. But smaller, more intimate secrets. Ones she didn’t share with even her sisters because she was the oldest, the heir, the one who had to be larger than life because she would lead them one day.

This man was not her ex. Not really. He was the fucking enemy. “Let me go.”

“No.”

No use pushing harder at that point. She changed gears without missing a beat. “Where are you taking me? Los Angeles?”

“No.” Dante’s eyes went flat. “My uncle would interfere, and he’s a blunt instrument. He would chop off your head and send it to your groom. It’s the kind of fun little joke he’s into, and it would piss off Romeo Capparelli, which is reason enough for him to do it.”

A sliver of true fear went through her. Ultimately, Dante was just the nephew of the head of the Verducci family, and cousin to the next. He wasn’t in charge of shit. If Lorenzo Verducci got involved, it wouldn’t matter what Dante thought of things. If his uncle wanted her dead, she was dead. Suddenly, being taken to LA didn’t sound like such a good idea, even if her father’s cousin Kirill had people there. Had he returned himself at this point? He was in New York for the wedding, but plans changed and none of her extended family would want to be gone from their home cities for long.

Rose swallowed hard. “So, if you’re not taking me home, then…”

Dante gave her a steady look. “I am taking you home.” He turned and stalked toward the bedroom door. “But only after you have my ring on your finger. Not even my uncle would dare touch you once you’re mine, Romanov or no.”

Chapter 7

When Dante realized that Rose didn’t follow him out of the bedroom, he only barely managed to fight down the desire to go back there to haul her into the main area of the plane with him. He was playing a slow game, and that required patience. If she needed time to stew after that phone call with her sister, then so be it. Rose was a smart woman. She’d quickly realize that her best bet lay in playing along with him. She had no way out.

On the other hand, she showed every evidence of being a prideful creature, and he’d undermined that pride by shoving her in a trunk. It stood to reason it would take her some time to get over it.

But how fucking long?

He was bored.

They had another hour in the air. Frankly, he’d like to fast-forward to landing, just to see what Rose would do once she had her feet on the ground again. She probably already had plans in place to run the second she got the chance. Dante smiled. His woman was in for one hell of a disappointment.

As much as he relished outplaying her, though, a part of him wondered if this would be one blow too many to her pride. She lived in the same world he did. Surely she understood they didn’t play by normal people’s rules, and that included the line of too far.

There was no such thing as too far.

Still… He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the closed bedroom door. He honestly didn’t know how she would react, and that sent a frisson of irritation through him.

Life was so much easier when he didn’t have to give a fuck about other people’s feelings. His uncle didn’t expect it of him, and so he’d never bothered. He worked better when he was cold and ruthless and Lorenzo knew it, even if it meant he hadn’t fully trusted Dante since Lorenzo brought him in as a teenager. A junkyard dog was useful in a number of situations, but there always stood the risk it would bite the hand that fed it.

Over the years, when his uncle sent him to take care of problems, Dante had started making examples of his targets. It earned him something of a reputation in the city, and it was the main reason Kirill hadn’t taken any meaningful steps to cause an all-out conflict.

It also had the happy side effect of unsettling Lorenzo. His uncle feared him, which was occasionally a challenging line to dance. Keep the old man off his back, but not threaten him so overtly that Lorenzo decided he was more trouble than he was worth.

It wouldn’t be a balance he had to worry about for long. Matteo would take care of Lorenzo soon enough. His cousin was too ambitious and too savvy to let his father run wild the way he was now. Matteo was just taking his sweet fucking time pulling the trigger. He had his reasons, but if Lorenzo tried to pull some bullshit with Rose, Dante would take the choice away from his cousin and put the old man down himself.

The door opened before he could change his mind about giving her space, and Rose stepped through it. She looked… Fuck, he didn’t have the words to describe how she looked in his shirt, her hair mussed and her tits threatening to pop a button or two despite the fact she’d obviously tried to make space for them. With every step she took toward him, she flashed a glimpse of red lace between her thighs.

He decided right then and there that he’d fuck her while she wore his shirt at some point. Not yet, not while she still wanted to rip his throat out with her teeth, but soon.

Rose stopped just out of reach. Her makeup was no longer perfect, but it only added to the just-fucked look she had going on. She narrowed her pretty hazel eyes “I’m going to ask you this once, and I want an honest answer.”

“Sure,” he lied easily.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said it so calmly, it took a moment for the words to penetrate. Rose didn’t give him a chance to respond, just continuing on in that painfully even tone that said she was seconds away from losing it. “You lied to me. You put me in a trunk. You made sure I disappeared at a specific time and place, and as a result, there’s a very real risk my family will be going to war. In what world would I ever agree to marry you?”

“In ours.”

She blinked. “There are lines, even in our world.”

“Are there?” He moved to the small cabinet bolted to the floor between the chairs they’d occupied earlier and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey. “Drink?”

“No.” The response was immediate and final. “The last thing I want right now is to share a drink with my abductor.” She really was magnificent like this. Nothing like the tame everyday girlfriend she’d played in his bed before. Oh, Rose had always been gorgeous, always been captivating, had always drawn his interest because he knew what lay beneath the mask, even if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

Now the masks were off. She wasn’t pretending any longer. Neither was he. Did she recognize him the same way he recognized her? They were alike in so many ways, were a perfect fucking match.

They were dangerous people capable of dangerous deeds.

They were predators.

Dante grabbed a glass and poured a healthy splash of whiskey into it. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, curious on how far he could push her. “How many of your aunts and uncles—and parents—had their relationships start with a little light kidnapping? More than a few.”

She dropped into the seat across from him hard enough to make her breasts bounce. He enjoyed the moment and enjoyed it even more when he finally raised his gaze to her face and found her glaring at him. She gave a delicate sneer. “This is not a little light kidnapping.”

“It’s the very definition of the word.” He smiled a little, just to see her tense in response. Dante motioned at her with his glass. “You’re unharmed and comfortable.”

“You. Put. Me. In. A. Trunk,” she gritted out.

“And you’re dodging the question, Rosa. That’s okay, I already know the answer.” He held up a finger. “James Halloran threw Carrigan O’Malley into a trunk after they fucked the first time, and now they’re married.” He held up a second. “Jude MacNamara knocked up your aunt Sloan before he ever admitted he was a hitman.”

“That’s not kidnapping,” she said mulishly.

“Close enough.” He shrugged and continued, “Your dearest Papa blackmailed your mother into essentially kidnapping herself the night they were married.”

Rose crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned back. “Stop quoting my family history at me.” She crossed one long leg over the other. “I know it better than anyone.”

“And yet we’re still arguing.” Not that he minded. At least she was talking to him. He’d half expected her to hide in the bedroom the moment she walked away the first time, perhaps to attempt to barricade herself in. But no, that’s something other Rose would have done when she’d worn her mask with him. The normal woman she’d played at being. This Rose was a Romanov, and she’d spend her entire time in his presence looking for the best angle to slip a blade between his ribs.

She was a revelation.

Rose started taking her hair out of its ridiculously complicated style. “Yes, we’re still arguing. You are not like my father or my uncles. You’re nowhere near the man they are.”

Dante shook his head slowly, watching bobby pin after bobby pin appear in a pile next to her. “You know better. I’m exactly the kind of man they are. We’re all cut from the same cloth—even you—but you have your panties in a twist because I hurt your pride, so you can’t admit it.”

She stared at him, her arms raised, half her dark hair hanging in wild waves around her face. “You’re out of your mind.”

He took a long drink of his whiskey. “It’s been said before.”

Rose leaned forward, flashing a healthy slice of her chest in the process. “You might have a stack of dossiers on me and my family, we might have done something resembling dating for several months, but you don’t know me.”

Dante drained his glass and sat back. He was determined to play this slowly, but her continued insistence that he couldn’t possibly know her worked its way under his skin. “I’ve known you plenty.”

“More sex insinuation? Cute.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ve already established that we both faked it. If that’s your basis for pulling this shit, the foundation is crumbling beneath your very feet.”

He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. The plane seats weren’t particularly roomy, so it shrank the distance between them considerably. Her bare knee was a few inches from his hand, and his fingers twitched with the need to touch her skin. Dante liked having all his fingers attached, though, so he resisted the urge. Barely.

Instead, he touched her in a different way. “Don’t pretend you lied about everything.”

“I did.” She said it so confidently, he almost believed it. Almost.

“Liar.” He shook his head. “You didn’t lie about how hard it is being the oldest, the one everyone depends on, the responsible party who has to keep your sisters in line. You didn’t lie about how hard it was being everything to everyone, or how much you appreciated that you didn’t have to do that with me.”

She went still. “Shut the fuck up, Dante.”

“I didn’t lie about everything, either.” He watched her expression closely. Was that interest? Impossible to say, so he pressed onward. “I didn’t lie about my mother, or the complicated feelings I have about her and her passing. I didn’t lie about the shit I liked to do with you, the movie marathons and finding little hole-in-the-wall bars to test out like they were a secret only we shared. I didn’t tell you the full truth, but not everything was fake.”

“Stop it,” she whispered. She looked away as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him. “You have me here. You don’t have to play pretend anymore. It’s cruel.”

He was tempted to continue, to drive the point home that no matter who they pretended to be with each other, the connection between them was real even before they ripped off each other’s masks. And after? He’d never wanted someone the way he wanted Rose. Given enough time, she’d want him, too. “Even if your argument weren’t complete bullshit, the fact remains that I’ll have plenty of time to know you after we’re married.”

“No. Absolutely not.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of her seat. “But I’m feeling gracious, so I’ll offer you a deal. Turn this plane around and return me home, and I’ll pretend this never happened.”

Her audacity had him barking out a laugh. The sound surprised him as much as it seemed to surprise her. He grinned. “The moment I take you back, if your family doesn’t snipe me on the runway, they’ll hunt me to the ends of the earth. Nice try.”

She gave him a surprisingly innocent look. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I bet you don’t.” He was good, but even he knew better than to take his chances against those odds. Back in the day, her uncle Jude MacNamara was one of the best hitmen around. Even thirty years out of the game—officially—he was one to be wary of. Technically, he was a private investigator now, choosing to find people instead of killing them, but Dante highly doubted he’d let his other skills dull. And that was just one member of the family. They all had colorful histories, and they were all deadly in their own ways. The only thing stopping Rose’s family from siccing one of their dogs on Dante was the fact he had Rose with him now.

Besides, if he killed one of her family members, it would be a setback he wasn’t sure his plan could survive. Rose and he might be similar in so many ways, but they differed on that subject. He liked his cousin and barely tolerated the rest of his family. She loved hers with a loyalty that baffled him. They were just people, and people were all motivated by selfish means, which led to them disappointing or betraying you.

He wanted to consider her naive for that belief, but history spoke for itself. The O’Malleys were insular and clannish and might fight amongst themselves on occasion but would join ranks and battle to the death the moment one of theirs was threatened. The greater Romanov family couldn’t say the same, but Dmitri Romanov had adopted at least that part of his wife’s family traits after marrying her. “This ends with my ring on your finger. Make your peace with it now.”

“Dante—”

“We’ll be landing soon.” He leaned back and motioned at her lap. “Buckle in, Rosa.”

For a moment, he thought she might argue, but she finally pulled the belt over her hips, glaring all the while. Neither of them spoke as the plane touched down. A smooth landing, but he expected nothing less from his man. Rose tensed, and he could practically see her flipping through scenarios and trying to decide the best way to turn the tables on him.

A few minutes later, the door opened with a faint sound. The pilot would stay in the cockpit while Dante and Rose left the plane; the better to provide reasonable doubt should it ever come to that. It wouldn’t, but the pilot was loyal, and Dante rewarded loyalty.

He propped his elbows on his knees. “You have—”

“Let me guess. Another of your choices.” Her gaze tracked the open door, and he waited for her to realize she couldn’t successfully make a run for it from here. It didn’t take long. She huffed out a breath and motioned an impatient hand in his direction. “Well, let’s hear it.”

“You can be a good girl and obey and enjoy a nice hot shower and decent meal when we get to our destination.” He paused. “Or you can be foolish, and I’ll lock you in a room with only a cot until you’re in a better mindset.”

“Wow, Dante. Such a difficult choice. So nuanced.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be good.”

No, she wouldn’t. She just wanted to gather as much information as possible before she made her first escape attempt. And there would be an escape attempt. He almost looked forward to it. He’d planned for every eventuality he could think of, but Rose had surprised him once before. She could very well do it again. A thrill rolled through his body at the thought. He truly didn’t know what she’d do, and he fucking loved that.

Dante stood and caught her looking at the bedroom door. “Leave the phone.”

“Why let me call in the first place?”

“Take a guess.”

She pressed her lips together and started for the door. “I can’t decide if you want the Verduccis to go to war with both Romanovs and Capparellis, or if you want us to go to war while the Verduccis laugh and watch. The latter won’t work. Even if Romeo doubts the truth of what happened, he can’t afford to ignore it just in case it is the truth. He’ll come after you.”

“I look forward to it.” If it was easier for her to believe that this was all some ruthless plan to start a war, then so be it. The only person he gave a fuck about right now was Rose, and he would have gone to even greater lengths to have her.

He chose not to admit the main reason he allowed the call was so she’d stop worrying that her family thought she was dead. He didn’t want Rose distracted. He wanted her focused on him entirely. If he told the truth about his motivations, Rose wouldn’t believe him, so he didn’t bother.

He followed her down the stairs. Dante slipped his hands into his pockets and watched Rose look around, horror slowly dawning on her pretty face. She usually had a relatively decent poker face, but it was nowhere in evidence now.

Now, she’d realize how foolish it was to continue to defy him.

They stood on a tiny runway in the middle of some cleared space with tall grass and weeds. A field, he supposed. There was space in case a landing plane couldn’t make it with the limited runway involved. It would be a rough ride when they ran out of pavement, though. He’d never personally experienced it—his people were the best—but it paid to have contingency plans. A forest bordered the field, trees thick enough to create the illusion of a green wall, lush and thick.

Rose turned to him, hazel eyes wide. “Where are we?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The space was intentionally generic, and he highly doubted Rose Romanov could identify the trees to narrow down the location. If it weren’t for potential cell tracking, he wouldn’t bother to keep the phone from her. As it was, the plane needed to get back in the air. He had several stops to make, each lingering just long enough to cloud the issue should someone—namely Cillian O’Malley—attempt to track their location.

Eventually, they’d find this place, but by the time they managed, this whole thing would be over.

Checkmate.

He watched the knowledge settle through Rose. She ran her fingers through her hair and gave a hoarse laugh. “Wow, you really went all out with this. I’d be impressed if I didn’t want to wring your neck.”

“Always violence with you, Rosa.” He jerked his chin to the east. “Let’s go.”

When they reached the edge of the asphalt, Rose balked. “Dante, I’m barefoot. You can’t honestly expect me to—what the fuck?”

He scooped her into his arms and kept going without missing a beat. She lifted her hand threateningly, and he stopped her with a glare. “A shower and a hot meal.”

“You are such a bastard.”

“Si. We’ve already covered this.”

She held herself stiff in his arms as he made his way through the field to the tree line. Behind them, the plane’s engines roared, and it shot down the runway and into the air. Right on schedule.

Dante wasn’t one to admit mistakes often, but it took all of fifteen minutes before he realized he should have chosen better shoes. And holding a tense Rose wasn’t exactly easy. If she’d just relax… He knew better than to order it, though. She might decide she wanted to run, and this area was filled with brambles and thorns. She’d rip her legs to shreds, and he’d still catch her. Better for them both to suffer through this short trip as they were.

By the time the house came into view, Dante was sweating, in pain, and fucking furious. He didn’t bother to gauge Rose’s reaction to the cabin. He just marched up to the front door, set her on her feet, and grabbed her arm. “Do. Not. Run.” When she jerked against his hold, he gave her a little shake. “I mean it, Rosa. I’m in a foul mood, and you’ll only get hurt.”

“I didn’t ask you to carry me.”

“Hush.” He maneuvered himself between her and the door and used his free hand to key in the code to unlock it. Then he shoved her in ahead of him. The first slap of air-conditioning after that hike was both painful and welcome. Dante kicked the door shut behind him, barely pausing to ensure it locked properly, and then headed for the bedroom. He registered Rose trying to dig in her heels, but it hardly made a difference. He was stronger and she had to know hat. Stubborn woman. “Shower,” he barked.

“I can walk without you dragging me behind you.”

He needed to get out of these filthy clothes and scrub himself down. Dante didn’t mind sweating, but he had no desire to linger in that state longer than strictly necessary. He wouldn’t be able to focus properly until he got cleaned up.

“Dante!”

He moved down the hall to the single bedroom and through it into the massive bathroom. The walk-in shower looked absolutely heavenly. He pushed Rose in that direction, already intent on unbuttoning his shirt before she took the first step. “Turn on the water and strip.”

“What is this? Some kind of peep show?” She moved into the shower, eyes going wide as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sweaty and tired, Rosa. Do not test me. Turn on the water.”

She muttered under her breath in Russian, but she turned on the water. There were half a dozen showerheads at varying heights, giving it the feel of a human car wash, but Dante didn’t give a fuck how ridiculous it seemed. It would do the trick. He shrugged out of his shirt and undid the front of his pants. “Take off your clothes.”

“I hate you.” But she unbuttoned the shirt with quick movements and let it drop to the floor. He waited, and with another curse, she shucked off her panties and kicked them away.

He studied her body as she stepped into the shower and moved to the trio of shower heads farthest from him. He’d had his mouth and hands all over her many times in the months they dated, and he’d spent the past three months rewriting those encounters to how they would have gone if he hadn’t been playing that asshole Jackson Smith. She looked different. He narrowed his eyes. She still had that bitable ass, but… “You lost weight,” he accused.

“It’s called stress. You’d be familiar if you weren’t a fucking asshole who didn’t care about anyone else.” She ducked beneath the spray.

Dante paused to eject the clip from his gun and toss it in a drawer before he set the gun itself on the counter. He’d secure them properly later, but he didn’t need her trying to shoot him and make a run for it. Even if she managed to get to the gun, she wouldn’t be able to load it before he got to her.

He finished stripping and stepped into the shower. The second the hot water hit his skin, he sighed in relief. Yeah, this was exactly what he needed. He grabbed the soap and scrubbed himself down quickly, erasing the gritty feeling of sweat drying against his skin. It only took a few minutes, but he could feel Rose’s attention on him the whole time. Studying for weakness? Waiting for an opportunity to attack?

Neither, apparently.

He turned to face her, letting the water pour over him, only to find her staring at his cock. The feeling of her gaze on him had his body responding, his cock hardening even as she watched. “See something you like?”

“I see something mediocre.”

“Rosa.” He injected enough censure into his tone to make her glare. “Let’s not retread this ground.”

She opened her mouth but seemed to reconsider what she’d been about to say. Finally, she shrugged. “You’ve got to be the most arrogant motherfucker I’ve ever met.”

“How so?”

“You’re in the shower with a woman who wants to do violence to you—a woman whose scars you wear.” She flicked her fingers at his shoulder and side, both sporting fresh scars from the bullet wounds. “And yet you’re naked and unconcerned. That’s arrogant by any definition of the word.”

He bit back a grin, curious to see what she’d do if he prodded her. The fact he truly didn’t know delighted him. “I’m bigger and stronger. What could you possibly do?”

“Oh, Dante.” Her lips quirked, and she moved toward him slowly. Her voice went low and seductive. “I can do so much.”

He held perfectly still and let her approach. Dante had been half-mast more or less consistently since arriving at the plane, but the moment Rose walked into the shower, his cock was so hard, he had a difficult time thinking past it.

She stopped a bare inch away and trailed her fingers over his length. His breath caught in his chest. Was it really going to be this easy? No. Surely not. But he couldn’t think properly with her touching him. “Rosa.” His voice came our raspy.

“Da.” The only warning he got was a slight tensing in her shoulders, and then she grabbed his balls in a viselike grip. His back hit the tiled wall, and she followed him, pressing her body to his even as she tightened her fingers. “Is something wrong, baby? Don’t tell me you don’t like to play rough.”

Fury surged, lust surging alongside it. He grabbed her wrist. Too hard, but it felt like she was going to rip his balls clean off his body. He hit her pressure points, forcing her hand open. It wasn’t enough, though. Not with pain beating through him with every thump of his heart. Dante used his hold to spin her around, turning in the same move to pin her against the wall, him at her back. She cursed and tried to buck, but he got a hand around her throat, holding her away from the tile so she wouldn’t bust her face open. “That’s enough.”

“Let me go.”

“No, Rosa.” He pressed against her back, letting the feeling of her slippery skin against his soothe him. “Turnabout is fair play.”

“What?”

He released her wrist and shoved his hand between her thighs to cup her pussy. He wanted nothing more than to sink two fingers into her silken heat, but Dante managed to restrain himself…mostly. He dragged his middle finger up her slit, rubbing the length against her clit. “Tell me yes, Rosa.”

Her only answer was her harsh breathing and the slightest widening of her thighs.

“Not good enough.” He made himself still his hand. A battle he quickly became in danger of losing as her desire drenched his fingers. “Tell me yes,” he repeated. “Tell me you want this. Tell me to make you come.”

She pressed her hands to the tile wall and let herself lean forward a little, resting her throat more firmly against his palm. “I won’t tell you yes, Dante. Don’t ask me to.”

He tried to think through the desire thrumming through his blood, to parse out her words. What she had said. What she hadn’t. Finally, he said, “Then tell me no, Rosa. Tell me no and I’ll stop.”

He held perfectly still as he counted off the seconds internally. Ten. Fifteen. Thirty. At sixty, she still hadn’t said a single fucking word. He smiled against her temple. You’re mine, Rosa. You know it, and I know it. “Very well.”

Chapter 8

Rose should tell him no. That’s what Dante asked for. That’s what the smart thing to do was. She hadn’t exactly had a plan when she’d hurt him, other than wanting to punish him for putting her in this position. Now, though? She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t turned on by the rough handling. She was practically panting against his hold on her throat, and no doubt he could feel evidence of her lust where his fingers gripped her pussy.

She should tell him no…

But she didn’t.

More, she didn’t want to.

Dante moved slowly. Testing her. He resumed his slow stroking, his middle finger dragging up her center and rubbing against her clit in a way that had her fighting back a moan. God, she’d missed him. She hated herself for it, but it was the truth. Even if, as Jackson, he’d never given her the rough fucking part of her craved, he had given her this. She’d forced herself to forget what it felt like to have the entirety of this man’s attention focused on her pleasure.

More, it felt right to have his hand bracketing her throat.

She spread her legs wider, giving him better access, and he rewarded her by pressing two fingers into her. They both exhaled in unison at the intrusion. He encompassed her with his body, cradling her even as he overpowered her nonexistent resistance. He explored her slowly, thoroughly, as if this were the first time all over again, finally landing on her G-spot with a muttered statement in Italian that sounded extremely satisfied. He rubbed his fingertips against it, kissing her temple when her knees went weak. The sweetness perfectly contrasted the way his other hand pulsed against her throat. Claiming her in a way she never would have allowed outside the bedroom.

His tone changed, but she still couldn’t understand the words. In the end, it didn’t matter because he released her throat and skated that hand down her stomach to stroke her clit. Having both his hands on—in—her pussy, his breathing harsh on her neck, his cock pressed against her ass…

God, she was going to come. And soon.

She couldn’t pretend she didn’t want this. He’d given her an out. Two? Three? All she had to do is say no, and she firmly believed he would have stopped.

Because apparently Dante Verducci actually planned on marrying her, and while he wasn’t above kidnapping or dragging her around like some secondhand toy, he drew the line at forcing her. She shouldn’t like that. She hadn’t chosen to be here in the house, in this shower, and yet in that moment, it was everything she could do not to beg him to fuck her.

He didn’t pick up his pace, didn’t try to rush her through her orgasm. No, he seemed perfectly content to keep finger fucking her for time unknowable, and that only made her need spike higher. So high, she almost missed that he’d switched back to English. His words were tinged with an accent for the first time since she’d met him, low and rough and somehow still musical. “Do you like that, la mia fidanzata?” He kissed her neck. “You don’t have to tell me with words. I can feel your pussy fluttering around my fingers. You’re close.”

“Dante,” she gasped.

“I like it when you say my name. My real name. No more masks between us, amata.” He edged her closer and closer to the point of no return. He was almost entirely holding her up by his hold on her pussy at this point. “I could leave you like this, Rosa. Leave you on the edge and make you beg for it.”

“Don’t!”

She felt him grin against her skin. “My stubborn girl finally tells the truth.” And then there was no more space for talking because she was too busy coming. She cried out, and Dante cursed. He didn’t stop, though. He kept her orgasm going, wave after wave, until she had to press her forehead to the tile to keep herself upright. She barely noticed him shifting one hand away from her pussy until she felt his knuckles brush her ass.

Rose tensed, but Dante wasn’t trying to fuck her. She roused herself enough to look over her shoulder as he jacked himself, his fingers slick from her coming. He picked up his pace as she watched, almost as if driven by her eyes on him.

Then he came across her ass and lower back in great spurts.

She should be pissed about that. She maybe she would be in a moment. But right now, she just stood there, leaning hard on the wall, and let him rub his come into her skin, still crooning in Italian. She dragged in a breath. “This doesn’t mean anything.” It couldn’t mean anything. She wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten to this place to begin with, how her determination to give him pain was flipped and reversed into him giving her pleasure.

“Liar.” He said it almost fondly. “It means everything.”

“No.” A word she should have said earlier. Why didn’t she say it? She couldn’t pretend he’d forced or even coerced her. She wanted this… She just didn’t want the consequences.

Rose concentrated on tensing her body—quite the trick when her bones felt like liquid—and put as much ice into her tone as she could. “Let me go.”

Dante, the bastard, chuckled. “You sure? It would be a shame if your dramatic exit was ruined by your legs giving out.”

I know he did not just say that.

This time, she didn’t have to try as hard to sound cold. “Get your hands off me. Now.”

For a moment, she thought he might ignore her. But he finally sighed as if she were the one being ridiculous and eased his hands from her body. He took a single step away and, for one horrible pause, she thought her body might make a liar out of her.

Her knees held.

Thank god.

She took thirty seconds to wash the mess off her ass and then moved past him. Every muscle in her body quivered, but she ignored the weakness as best she could. A stack of surprisingly fluffy towels sat next to the sink, and she took advantage of two of them. Twisting her hair into one and wrapping the other around her body. Behind her, the water shut off, but she ignored it just like she ignored Dante. More or less.

He might be the most interesting thing in the room to look at, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of watching him dry off. Instead, she turned and surveyed the bathroom properly for the first time.

When they’d landed on that isolated air strip and then hiked through the fucking forest to get here, she’d honestly expected a cabin out of a horror movie. Something infested with spiders and mice and possessing an inch of grime on every surface. A building that was possibly even haunted, as all murder-cabins must be.

Then this place came into view, and she’d had to readjust her expectations. It was a cabin, sure, but a rich person’s cabin. It didn’t mean it wasn’t a murder-cabin, though. That lock that appeared to function for both interior and exterior meant only Dante could come and go as he pleased. He was capable of torture and murder; she didn’t doubt that for a second. That said, she highly doubted he planned either after everything he’d said and what just happened in the shower.

Focus on something else. Literally anything else.

This bathroom was easily larger than the one she had at home, and the tiled-in shower was… Well, best not to think too hard about it now. But the whole thing screamed forest-chic, with dark-green walls, exposed beams overhead in a vaulted ceiling, and the gray tiled floors and shower. The sink was all marble and more exposed beams. It was…nice. The kind of place where she could easily imagine escaping to for a weekend to get away from city life and her responsibilities for a bit.

If only she weren’t trapped here.

She moved past Dante and out of the bathroom. The bedroom was more of the same, luxury in a vaguely cabin sort of way. The bed itself looked like heaven, but she wasn’t ready to think about that yet.

Rose had been Dante’s captive for less than twenty-four hours and she’d already come all over his hand. She didn’t like her odds of spending the night in the same bed without riding his cock. Maybe the couch would be comfortable enough?

She had to do better than this. She’d already proven she couldn’t touch him, even in violence, without him taking it as an invitation to touch her right back. It would be simpler if he dealt pain, because then she could hate him. When he gave her pleasure instead, it got her wires all crossed.

Best to put as much distance between them as possible.

The living room was honestly really nice. Big picture windows overlooked the hill down into the trees, offering a view of the path Dante had carried her up earlier. The trees were too tall to see too far, so she couldn’t gauge their actual location. Not that she’d be able to determine much even if she could see for miles.

Rose wasn’t exactly an outside girl. She preferred the city to the country, and the last time she’d let Sasha and Anya convince her to travel to Colorado to go skiing, she’d nearly broken her body on the bunny hill. She’d spent the rest of the trip at the bar, falling deeply into lust with a beautiful blond named Natalie. It was time much better spent, in her opinion.

Rose leaned down and pressed a hand to the deep, overstuffed couch. It was plenty long enough for her to lay on and stretch out. It would hardly be termed roughing it by sleeping on the couch, even though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept somewhere that wasn’t a bed. Maybe Lorelei’s twenty-first birthday last year when they’d all drank too much tequila and ended up passing out in the bathroom while Lorelei puked her guts up. Sleeping in the tub had left a spasm in Rose’s neck for a week. The couch had to be better than that. Hopefully.

She glanced at the windows. Once darkness fell, anyone outside might as well have a spotlight on her in the living room. And it would be dark, not like night in New York, where there were always lights, sounds, people moving about, no matter the hour. She shivered. She really should have reconsidered all those horror movie marathons with Anya and Lorelei.

“Rosa.”

She didn’t jump, but it was a near thing. When she got back home, she was definitely avoiding the scary movies. She dragged in a deep breath and turned to face her captor. “For the last time, that’s not my name.”

The man had no right to look so good. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, showing off his strong, lean body. He hadn’t even dried himself properly, and she couldn’t help watching a drip of water slide down the center of his chest between his pecs, down…down…down….

Rose jerked her gaze to his face. There was no relief for her there, though. Common consensus seemed to be that when people shaved off their beards, they lost a large percentage of their attractiveness. The same could not be said for Dante. Without his beard to soften his features, there was no hiding the perfection of his face. Someone looking at him from a distance might think he was too pretty, but the aura of danger that coated him like a second skin turned that pretty into a weapon to be used against the unsuspecting.

She wasn’t unsuspecting. Not after everything they’d been through. So why couldn’t she quite catch her breath?

Dante gave her a long look. “Should I use Roza instead?” He said her name with a perfect Russian inflection, just like her parents did when they were feeling particularly sentimental.

A chill went through her. “No. Not that. Never that.”

“Rosa, it is then.”

A losing battle, and one she should let go, but she felt like she’d gone eleven rounds in the ring and was reeling off the ropes. If she’d just shot him properly the first time, none of this would be happening. The fact that she had shot him, and he still insisted on using a pet name… It confused her. She didn’t like it. “You are not my family, Dante. You are not my boyfriend. You are not anything to me. You haven’t earned the right to use a nickname when you speak to me.”

“Può essere.” He shrugged. “Maybe I haven’t earned it. Yet. But don’t say I’m nothing to you. It’s a lie, and not even a good one at that.”

His sheer stubbornness must be quite the strength when it came to dealing with his uncle’s enemies, but it made her want to strangle him with her bare hands. “It’s not a lie.” It couldn’t be. Their history might confuse her heart, but her head was very clear on what needed to happen in the future.

He turned and started for the bedroom. “It gets chilly at night. You should consider clothes.” Dante looked over his shoulder. “Though you’re more than welcome to stay naked, and I’ll start a fire.”

She glanced at the giant fireplace dominating the far wall. It was made of river rock and the chimney had to be at least six feet wide. It was very beautiful, just like the rest of the house, but the logs artfully arranged in its mouth were most definitely fake. Rose narrowed her eyes. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that fireplace is electric.”

“Si.” His grin was absolutely heart-stopping. “I’ll flick that switch just for you, baby.”

She would not grin. She would absolutely not smile… But her lips curved despite her determination to remain stone-faced. “I’ll take those clothes now.”

“Pity.”

Dante turned back to the hall and kept going. Even though Rose knew it was a terrible idea to be in the same room as him and a bed, especially after things had gone so sideways in the shower, her body didn’t get the memo. One step, then another. Was this how those children in the Pied Piper fairy tale felt? Afraid and drawn, all at the same time? She couldn’t blame the tangled feeling inside her on any kind of magic, though. It was messy emotions and pure lust battling with logic and fear. She was so busy arguing with herself about the intelligence of following him at all, she walked right into the closet behind him.

Rose stopped short, her heart doing something uncomfortable in her chest at the sight that greeted her. For the first time since he walked out in a towel, she wasn’t looking at him. “Dante,” she said slowly.

“Si?”

It struck her that he was using Italian a lot more freely now. How challenging had it been for him to play the generic, all-American white guy card when he pretended to be Jackson Smith? No, best not to think about that too hard. Not when there was something more pressing staring her right in the face.

Half the closet was devoted to a woman’s wardrobe.

It had never occurred to ask if he was in a relationship. He’d been fucking her for months under the guise of his persona, and then he’d spouted off about marrying her, but ultimately that didn’t mean he didn’t have a person back home. Someone who mattered enough to have clothing in the closet of his murder-cabin. Someone he brought here when he wanted to be alone and escape.

She absently rubbed the back of her hand against her sternum as if she could rub away the awful sensation taking root there. Another lie in the long list of lies. Why was she surprised? Why did it hurt after all this time? She cleared her throat. “You can’t honestly expect me to wear your girlfriend’s clothing. I don’t want that. Surely she wouldn’t want it, either, especially not after where you’ve spent the last few months.”

Dante dropped the towel, giving her a truly stellar view of his muscular ass. “Your options remain the same.”

Naked or use these clothes.

The feeling in her chest strengthened. He hadn’t rushed to tell her that there was no other woman. Honestly, why did she care? If the mystery girlfriend existed, she wouldn’t have to worry about Dante for long, not when Rose fully intended to shove him off the nearest cliff. Really, she was doing the woman a favor. Who stood by and accepted their boyfriend going undercover to fuck someone else for months and then kidnapping that someone else and fingering them in the shower…?

This was not a productive line of thinking.

She’d lost the lede somewhere along the way. It didn’t matter if Dante had a whole house full of partners, because he wasn’t hers and she hated him. Yes, the awful sensation in her chest was hate. That was all.

Ultimately, being naked in the same house as this man was the greater of two evils. She found some loungewear tucked back in a dresser in the corner and pulled on the yoga pants and tank top. A knitted sweater and wool socks finished the ensemble. As much as she hated to admit it, Dante was right. Now that they were out of the shower, the chill of the place had started to creep in.

She turned to find him watching her. He had on a pair of lounge pants and nothing else. The new scars on his shoulder and torso stood out in the stark light of the closet. Scars from where she shot him. A couple inches to the left and she would have hit something vital and killed him.

Good.

Right?

Yes, it had to be good, because Dante was the enemy, and Rose wasn’t foolish enough or sentimental enough to become entangled with the enemy. Even if he wasn’t lying about everything between them in the past being a lie, they had no future. Rose wasn’t her sisters, who would have more freedom in who they chose to partner romantically with. She was the heir. As this mess showed, her choices had consequences that would ripple out through New York and beyond. If Dante got his way and she agreed to marry him… Coming home with his ring on her finger guaranteed war. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t.

She needed to find a way out of this trap and get home to do damage control. She did not need to be staring at the carved lines of her enemy’s abs and the dusting of hair across his chest. Dante had to die. That was all there was to it. It was the only hope they had of salvaging this situation and preventing a war with the Capparellis. Yes, it would undoubtedly spark a conflict with the Verducci family, but ultimately they were across the country from New York. Better to negate the threat in their backyard first and worry about the rest later.

She had to be the one to pull the trigger, too. Her reputation would have taken a huge hit with this kidnapping bullshit, and letting anyone else enact her revenge would make her look even weaker. Rose needed to save herself and eliminate Dante Verducci once and for all.

This time, she wouldn’t miss.

Chapter 9

Dante didn’t like the change that came over Rose’s expression. He’d been making headway, between the orgasm and nearly teasing her into a laugh despite herself. Not to mention her jealousy. He hadn’t expected that, but it delighted him all the same. If she cared enough to be jealous, then she cared. No matter how steep the odds, if there wasn’t a zero percent chance of him winning her over, he could work with it.

But whatever she was thinking about now had the shutters rising in her eyes again. She turned without a word and marched out of the closet. Dante bit back a curse. Ah well. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither would Rose Romanov be conquered in a day.

As tempting as it was to follow her, he had other priorities that needed attending to at the moment. He waited, listening to Rose’s footsteps move through the bedroom and down the hall. Only once he was certain she wouldn’t change her mind and return did he duck into the bathroom and retrieve the gun and clip. Dante returned to the closet and reached past his suit jackets to press the button cleverly hidden in the back of the closet. The panel gave with a quiet snick. He cast one last glance at the door and then ducked through the clothing and into the panic room.

Once he was closed in, he turned and surveyed the space. He wasn’t the overly paranoid type normally, but out here, anything could happen. This wasn’t his home territory, where the people in his world knew him on sight and knew better than to fuck with him. He didn’t have Lorenzo’s people around as potential backup should things go sideways. As a result, he’d taken precautions when he had this place built.

This room was one of them.

It was small and reinforced. Once inside and secured, nothing short of a tank could breach it. Not before reinforcements arrived. There were enough MREs and water stored to last a week or so, but he doubted it would ever come to that. No one knew this place existed except him and Matteo.

The trio of screens showed video from the cameras positioned around the exterior. Just a bunch of various woodland plants and creatures. He took a few minutes to key the motion sensor so if anything larger than a midsize animal approached, he’d get a ping on his watch. There were plenty of deer in the area, so it’d probably be a pain in the ass, but considering the circumstances, the early warning system was necessary.

Before he could devote all his time to seducing Rose back to his side, properly this time, there were tasks that needed to be completed. He considered his options and went with the easiest call first.

“You’re in trouble now, cugino.”

He nearly rolled his eyes at Matteo’s amusement. His cousin was a good leader, but the side he showed Dante was pure chaos. “Your father sent me to New York. What did he think was going to happen?”

“That the Romanov girl would annoy you and you’d snap her neck.”

The thought of a world without Rose Romanov in it sent a burst of repulsion through him. No matter what lengths she went to, how hard she fought, how much she snarled and snapped and fought, only one fact mattered. She was his. If it took a month or ten years, she’d admit it eventually. In the meantime, he would ensure no one else laid a finger on her. “She’s mine.”

Matteo snorted. “Yeah, I thought you might say something like that. My father doesn’t care. She was going to marry the Capparelli heir, so he wants her dead.”

“Then I’ll kill him before you have a chance to.”

All joking bled out of his cousin’s voice. “No. It’s not time.”

“Then you better keep him on a leash.” Dante was content to let his cousin play his deeper game, but only as long as Lorenzo didn’t try to follow through on the threat against Rose. He’d allow no one, not Lorenzo, not Dmitri Romanov, not the gods themselves to take his woman from him.

His cousin sighed. “You couldn’t have waited a few weeks for this? You’ve upset the balance. Kirill is back, and he’s threatening to ignite the conflict between our families again if you don’t return the woman immediately.”

“Lorenzo must be thrilled. He wants nothing more than to go out in a blaze of glory.”

“Not at the expense of our people and territory,” Matteo snapped. “You’ve endangered both.”

He glanced at the monitors. He respected the fuck out of his cousin. Matteo was probably the only person in this life he actually cared about. Well, Matteo and now Rose. He understood his cousin’s desire do right by their people, but Dante didn’t feel the same push. “This will be over shortly.”

“And then what? You can’t honestly think the Romanovs are going to be happy, even if you manage to convince her to see things your way.”

Frankly, he didn’t give a fuck what the Romanovs thought, but he knew better than to say as much. “Once things are settled with Rose, it will become a family affair between me and the New York Romanovs. Kirill will back off.” The man was getting old, and he was tired. Unlike Lorenzo who wanted to escalate things as the years passed, Kirill seemed to want to enjoy his last decade or so in this world with booze, women, and good food. He wouldn’t push things unless someone forced the issue.

“You don’t have much time.”

“Keep your father from escalating things. As long as he doesn’t push Kirill too far, it’ll settle as soon as this is sorted”

Matteo sighed. “Why not ask for the moon while you’re at it?”

“You could always kill him now and be done with it.”

“Not yet.” Ice slid into his cousin’s tone. “Some of the old guard is being resistant to the idea of change.”

“So, kill them, too.”

His cousin snorted. “I’ll think about it. Stay safe.”

“You, too.” He hung up and planted his hands on the counter. If Lorenzo fucked this up for him, Dante would ensure he suffered before Matteo finally put a bullet between his eyes. Kirill getting pissy wasn’t outside the realm of expectation. The Romanovs truly liked the fantasy that they were loyal to each other and just as clannish as the O’Malleys were. It was a lie.

Thirty years ago, Dmitri Romanov nearly got snuffed out by his own people. He’d made too many mistakes with the O’Malleys and had gone soft for the youngest sister. Marrying her initially stayed Mother Russia’s hand, and then there was a conflict in Texas that turned their gaze away from New York for a few years. By the time they circled back, Dmitri and Keira were stable and ruling a healthy territory. Above reproach, even for the likes of Jovan Romanov.

Even with all the research Dante did into the New York Romanov family, he still wasn’t sure if Dmitri realized how close he’d come to being ground to dust beneath the boot of his extended family. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Studying history made the future predictable. Which was how he could recite the next phone call almost without making it. Unfortunately, some things simply had to be done. He dug one of the burner phones out of the drawer full of them and called Dmitri Romanov.

As suspected, the man himself answered. “Romanov.” A faint Russian accent flavored the word.

“I thought we should have a discussion.”

Silence for a beat. Two. “Am I to assume I’m speaking with Dante Verducci?”

“Si.”

“You have some balls to call me after what you’ve done.”

Dante grinned. He respected the fuck out of Dmitri. He ruled his territory with an iron fist but never escalated violence unnecessarily. He was smart enough to know that making a messy example of a single enemy was more effective than all the threats in the world. Most importantly, he treated Rose well.

Or he had up until strong-arming her into the bullshit marriage with Romeo Capparelli.

Dante’s smile died. “As I told your daughter, let’s not throw stones from glass houses. When you move in the world we do, the rules are different. You terrorized the O’Malley family and ultimately blackmailed your now-wife into marrying you. How is that different from what I’ve done?”

Another of those dangerous silences. “The situation was different.”

“It’s not.”

“My daughter was engaged to Romeo Capparelli because of the stunt you pulled. Then you decide to go behind everyone’s back and take her. This is a mess that might be unsalvageable, and the blame lays squarely with you.” His voice went downright frigid. “Let me speak to my daughter.”

“No.”

“If you’ve harmed her—”

“She’s perfectly safe, if furious.” He chose not to mention anything connected to what happened in the shower. It wasn’t the kind of conversation a man had with his future father-in-law. “She’ll call you once we come to an agreement.”

“An agreement.”

“Si.”

Dante could appreciate how he loaded his silences with the threat of violence. This man wasn’t a half-cocked gun like Lorenzo. He might be furious and worried about his daughter, but none of that emotion seeped into his voice. Finally, Dmitri said, “Surely you aren’t insinuating you have intentions regarding Rose.”

“She’s mine.”

“She’s not.” A thread of heat sounded beneath the ice. “She’s the heir to the Romanov family here in New York. She’s not a pawn to be taken at will.”

Dante let some of his fury bleed into his tone. “And yet you were marrying her off to the Capparellis. Just like a pawn.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.” He barely beat back the anger that rose at the thought of her in that white dress, ready to say “I do” to Romeo. “Or is she only allowed to be a pawn when you’re the one making the moves?”

“She was only in that situation because you put her there.”

“And yet you didn’t defend her. The great Dmitri Romanov, bending over to offer up his eldest daughter to appease an Italian over a little insult.” Dante tsked. “Disappointing.”

“What is it that you want, Verducci? I assumed you called with more intention that to gloat.”

Gloat. The thought was laughable. He hadn’t won yet. Dante was sure of his victory, but only a fool ignored the possibility of unknown factors arising to complicate the situation. “I called to state my intentions. I’m going to marry Rose.”

“Nyet.” Dmitri snarled in Russian for several seconds before he dragged in a breath and regained his supposed calm. “My daughter will make herself a widow if you try.”

“We’ll see.” He had no doubt Rose was capable of it. He wore her scars, after all. But if she truly hated him as much as she pretended, she wouldn’t have come all over his hand in the shower. She wouldn’t have stared at his bare chest with heat in her hazel eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking. She felt the same way Dante did. She was just being stubborn about it. “Be sure to tell Romeo he’s destined to be disappointed.”

“I see.” Something strange in Dmitri’s tone, something off. “You’re not long for this world, Verducci. If we’re passing along messages, be sure to tell my daughter that we’re coming for her.”

“By the time you find her, she’ll be my wife.”

“Good thing Rose looks excellent in black.”

“You’re going to be fun as a father-in-law.” Dante hung up.

That went about as well as could be expected. He didn’t expect the man to thank him for throwing a wrench into his plans, but he’d come around. He obviously loved his daughter, and if something—someone—made her happy, he’d get over his personal feelings on the matter. Most likely. Either way, he’d deal with it. Dante methodically dismantled the phone. They hadn’t spoken long enough for a trace, but better to play this with an abundance of caution.

With his tasks out of the way, he checked the monitors one last time and ducked out of the closet. Dante paused to ensure it closed properly behind him and the latch was hidden once again, and then he went in search of Rose.

He’d half expected to find her in the closet waiting for him, ready to demand answers, but the space was empty. So was the bedroom and hallway leading to the main room. He moved silently, curious to what she’d gotten up to in his absence. Perhaps she’d found the food he had stocked in the fridge? It had been too long since she’d eaten, so that would be a logical next step.

He really should have known better.

Dante heard her before he saw her. Angry Russian muttered under her breath. He made a mental note to learn the language properly at some point. Maybe Rose would learn Italian, too. The thought pleased him.

She was crouched by the front door, a screwdriver in her hand and a determined look on her face. Smart girl. She’d realized she couldn’t hack the keypad and decided to take it off instead. It wouldn’t work. It’d been bolted into place when it was installed, so it’d require something heftier than a simple screwdriver to dismantle.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Why not just toss a chair through the window instead?”

“Don’t you think I tried?” She didn’t look up. He liked that she didn’t look up, that she acknowledged him but didn’t let his presence deter her from her goals. This woman really was something.

He glanced at the picture window and, sure enough, there was one of the dining room chairs laying on its side. “I’m surprised you could pick up the chair.”

“And I’m surprised that I didn’t anticipate you using reinforced glass.”

He shrugged. “Si, it’s something of a necessity in our lifestyle.”

She sighed and sat back on her heels. She looked good like this, though Rose seemed to look good in any given situation. Her hair had dried into a faint wave that he liked a lot. It made him want to sink his hands into the dark length and tug.

Not yet.

The shower was a step in the right direction, but he could be a patient hunter. He might have failed that test in the past, but he’d never had prey as vital as Rose Romanov in his sights.

Rose rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. “What’s your play, Dante?”

He’d already told her, but obviously she didn’t believe him any more than her father did. That was fine. He’d prove it with time. “Even if you managed to get out of the cabin, you’d wander lost for days. We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Not strictly the truth, but close enough for his purposes.

“Don’t lie to me. This place is nice, but it’s obviously been stocked recently, and not even you are impractical enough to have the only way in be flying or hiking. There’s a car and a road.” She narrowed her eyes. “No door to a garage, but I bet there’s one tucked around here somewhere. You wouldn’t have left yourself without an escape route.”

She was right. There was a garage a few hundred yards from the cabin. The driveway created a loop on the side of the house opposite the living room with its windows overlooking the view. As much as he wanted space between the house and the vehicles, the thought of trekking that distance on foot when delivering stuff to the cabin was out of the question. He liked that she’d divined that so quickly, but it didn’t mean he’d feed her more information than strictly necessary. “It’s irrelevant.”

“It’s really not.” She pushed slowly to her feet, the screwdriver still held in one hand. “You want to marry me, baby? Let’s go to the chapel.”

Victory surged, but logic shouted it down. Hadn’t he just admired Rose’s resourcefulness? She knew if he took her out of this place, her chances of escaping increased dramatically. Dante was good, but she’d proven she was as well. “All in good time.”

“Bastard.”

“Si.” He gave her one last look and turned for the kitchen. “You should eat something. You’re practically weaving on your feet. It’s irritating.” If she was determined not to take proper care of herself, he’d do it for her.

“God forbid I irritate you.” But she followed him into the kitchen and sat at the island as he pulled a few things out of the fridge. It was late as fuck, so sandwiches would have to do. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him line out the items. “Don’t try to slip anything extra in there to ensure good behavior.”

“You wouldn’t know good behavior if it slapped you in the face.”

“It’s welcome to try,” she snapped.

Dante set out the bread first for several sandwiches and then proceeded to layer mayo, turkey, lettuce, tomato, and mustard on. Her favorite. “I don’t like using drugs. It makes people slow even if it doesn’t knock them out, and as soon as they sober up, you’re starting from scratch. Better to use intimidation or violence.”

“Fear is just as temporary as drugs.”

He raised his brows. “Not if you do it right.”

Rose shook her head slowly. “I suppose you’d know, wouldn’t you? You’re Lorenzo Verducci’s attack dog.”

“Rosa.” He enjoyed the way she glared harder every time he said her name like that. “Are you going to play the innocent? I know how your family works. People don’t follow you because they get warm cushy feelings when they think of you.”

She didn’t look away. “We do what we have to do. Our people are taken care of.”

“Si, and if they step out of line, you or another of your family makes an example of them. That is fear used effectively.” He put one sandwich on a plate and paused. “Rectangles or triangles?” He knew the answer from so many similar conversations in his kitchen, albeit about different topics. He simply wanted to see if she’d admit this, too, was truth.

“What am I, three?” When he just stared, she sighed and looked away. “Triangles, obviously. That hasn’t changed.”

He cut the sandwich in half diagonally and pushed the plate across the island to her. “Unless I’m wrong and the great Romanov family relies on drugs to ensure good behavior.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Rose picked up half the sandwich and took a bite. She chewed for several long moments while she appeared to consider his statement. “Papa prefers a lighter touch. He can do more in a single sentence than most people can do with a tank and battalion of soldiers.”

He knew. Anyone who had even the slightest connection with crime on the East Coast had heard of Dmitri Romanov. He’d spent most of his life ruling a huge chunk of NYC with an iron fist. When people crossed him these days, he didn’t make examples. They just…disappeared. “Big shoes to fill.”

“You could say that.” She frowned down at her plate. “Both my parents are larger than life and…” Rose tensed. “You know what? No. We’re not doing this. I’m eating, and then I’m going to bed on the couch, and maybe if you’re lucky, I won’t find a way to slit your throat in your sleep.”

“No, we won’t be doing that. You’ll be in my bed next to me.” He gave her a slow smile. “And if you attempt to attack me, I’ll take it as an invitation to touch you.”

“Touch me and…”

“Si, I know.” He waved it away. “You’ll come all over my hand again.”

Rose stared. She opened her mouth like she wanted to retort but eventually just picked up her sandwich. He resumed eating as well, and he couldn’t deny the satisfaction that rose in response to feeding this woman.

Oh, they’d shared meals before, and he’d thrown together pathetic little dinners from time to time in that shitty apartment, usually sandwiches like this meal or something equally within Jackson Smith’s budget. It didn’t count. Dante had cut off large swathes of himself during those months in order to cram himself into the framework that was Jackson Smith. To be easy and charming and make her feel safe enough that she never bothered to look into him past a surface background check. He’d let some of the truth filter in because he hadn’t been able to resist, but there was so much he left out. That wasn’t Dante, the real Dante.

She would know him.

Starting now.

Chapter 10

Rose planned to argue about the sleeping arrangements. She did. But after twenty-four hours of stress, her body just kind of…gave out. She let Dante guide her back into the bedroom, brushed her teeth, and then collapsed onto the ridiculously comfortable mattress wearing only a tank top and underwear. The last thing she registered was Dante pulling the covers up higher around her shoulders.

She woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows and the faint sound of eighties’ rock. Rose sat up and shoved her hair back from her face. She’d meant to use the night to make another escape attempt or at least try to turn the tables, but…

Exhaustion would get the best of anyone in this scenario. That’s all it was. Frankly, she should be proud she lasted as long as she had without collapsing. Better to focus on that rather than the missed opportunities. She hauled herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She used the toilet and spent entirely too long brushing her teeth. Stalling. That’s what she was doing. Fucking stalling.

She used mouthwash and then stared at her reflection in the mirror. Gone was the perfectly put-together woman she’d curated for most of her life. Her hair was wild, she didn’t have a speck of makeup on her face, and there were faint circles beneath her eyes.

Getting out of here was her top priority. It had to be her top priority. She didn’t know what time it was or what time zone they were even in, but shit had most definitely hit the fan back in New York. Lorelei could only stall for so long. She needed to be there, helping to put out fires. That was fact.

It was also fact that she had no way to get out of this house. The glass was reinforced, and the door had a security panel that she couldn’t pry off, and didn’t know the passcode to. It was eight fucking digits, too, which meant there were tens of thousands of code possibilities; it would take her years to find the right one.

And that was just the first step.

Once she got out of this cabin, she had to figure out a way back to civilization. She had no true gauge for telling how close they were, and even with a road to follow, there was no guarantee she’d even reach the nearest city or town safely. No, the odds were not in Rose’s favor. No matter from which angle she looked at the situation, the fact remained that she was well and truly at Dante’s mercy.

If he was to be believed, he wanted to marry her.

Rose snorted. Yeah, like she was going to fall for that. She’d believed his feelings for her once before, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Whatever Dante’s goals, he might want her, but marrying her couldn’t possibly be the end game.

If it was…

That meant he was telling the truth about their farce of a relationship being at least as real to him as it was to her.

She pressed her hand to her chest. No. She couldn’t believe it. It didn’t make any fucking sense. Better to play out the scenarios and get the hell out of here. She and Dante had no future. Even if her foolish heart won, and she came down with a spontaneous case of Stockholm syndrome—which she was pretty sure didn’t even exist—her family would put an end to that the moment she arrived back in the city with her new husband. She’d be a widow before the day was out.

Honestly, that was probably the easiest solution. Bend instead of fighting. Let him win her over however he intended to and fast-track this process to getting back to civilization. It would be a different kind of battle of wills, but surely she could prevail… Couldn’t she?

Unless she was just twisting herself into knots in an excuse to take what she wanted from this man. She wasn’t a bad daughter, a horrible heir, if she had to seduce Dante to get free.

She shook her head. “Honesty, Rose.” Honestly, she had no way out. From her little tour of the cabin yesterday after getting dressed, there were no exits or windows that she could climb out of. The odds were stacked against her, and with time of the essence, she’d have to use every tool available. That was the truth.

But not the full truth.

The uncomfortable fact remained that while she might have thought herself in love with Jackson Smith, she’d never desired him with the ferocity she desired Dante. Things had been comfortable with Jackson. Nice. Sweet. Safe. A counter to the rest of her life, a selfish little vacation for only her every time she went to his apartment.

There was no separating Dante from her world. He was in it up to his eyeballs. She didn’t have to pretend right now, and even if he was the enemy, that truth attracted her. He wasn’t expecting her to be above reproach or be thinking of anyone but herself. Not her family, not her people. She couldn’t help being drawn to that. She didn’t have to pretend with him. Not anymore. He didn’t want her because she was Rose Romanov, heir to the Romanov empire in New York.

He only wanted her.

She followed the sound of music to the other side of the kitchen and a door she hadn’t seen last night because it was cleverly tucked into a little nook in the wall. It had been left cracked open, and she used a single finger to press it open farther. Inside was a home gym, but like everything else in this “rustic” cabin, it was the height of luxury. There was a treadmill and rowing machine tucked in the far corner and a selection of free weights set up, complete with rack and bench.

Dante was on his back on the bench, shirtless and sweaty, pressing up a truly impressive amount of weight stacked on either side of the bar. He was relatively vulnerable like this, or at least she’d assume that if she didn’t know better. No matter what he said about their theoretical future, Dante wasn’t going to let her hurt him just to make her happy. He wanted her, but he wanted her in a specific way and at a specific time. No matter how he pretended to react when she threatened him, she knew men like him.

He might not lay a finger on her, but he would use every other tool in his arsenal against her. If somehow her family found this cabin, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt them if they tried to take her from him.

She couldn’t keep playing things so harshly. Doing so put the people she loved in danger, either from the Capparelli family or from Dante himself. Rose couldn’t live with either option. Better to play along and make him think he was winning her over in some twisted version of Beauty and the Beast. The sooner he dropped his guard, the sooner she could do what needed to be done in order to free herself. And if she got what she wanted out of it in the process, too?

Well, she was only human.

No reason to think too hard about it. She was better suited to action, after all. Rose took a slow breath, squared her shoulders, and walked into the gym. Dante didn’t notice her until she was nearly beside him, and his only reaction was to raise his brows. The steady ascent and descent of the weight never changed.

Not even when she straddled him.

He did tense, though. Even that small response was enough to boost her confidence. She could do this. Rose had planned and executed raids and a number of shady operations over the years. She might not have had to play the undercover role—not when everyone in the NYC underworld knew her on sight—but surely she could pull this off.

“Have you eaten?” He didn’t even sound out of breath.

She shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”

Finally, a response from him. He stopped with the weight halfway to his chest. “You don’t take care of yourself.” The way he said it. As if he actually had her health and well-being in mind at any point of the time they’d known each other.

She didn’t know what to think of that, so she didn’t think about it at all. Rose leaned forward to put her hands on the bar inside his. “I could crush you like this.”

“Careful, Rosa, or I might start mistaking your violent threats as flirting.”

She didn’t smile at him. She couldn’t. But she did lower herself a little closer to his chest. Dante’s dark gaze lingered where her breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her tank top. The room was cold. That was the only reason her nipples were pebbled and achy. It certainly wasn’t because of the dangerous man between her thighs.

He hefted the bar up, lifting it and the small pressure she put on it to easily drop it into the rack. Dante sat up, the move sliding her down his stomach to land in his lap. He set his hands on her hips, squeezing lightly. His hard cock pressed against her, and she couldn’t help but shiver. Even that little movement made Dante’s eyes narrow. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She rocked her hips ever so slightly against him. It didn’t matter that she’d had sex with this exact man a few months ago. He felt different. She ran her hands up his chest, ignoring the temptation to linger on his new scars. Definitely ignoring the strange possessive feeling that arose when she looked at them, knowing she put them on his body. “You know I wake up needy in the morning.”

“Need your orgasms before you need your breakfast,” he murmured. In that moment, he sounded so much like Jackson, her heart twisted painfully in her chest. Dante kept staring at her as if he could divine the thoughts right out of her head. “What changed between last night and this morning?”

Damn it, he really was too smart for this to work. And she was too foolish to think she could do this without her traitorous heart getting fucked up in the process. “You don’t want to play? Fine. I’ll go take care of myself with that pulse shower head. It’ll get me there faster, anyway.” She rolled her eyes and started to stand.

He tightened his grip on her hips and jerked her back down. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.” She tried to stand again, mostly because it thrilled a dark, reckless part of her to have him holding her in place. He wasn’t overly rough, but the thought of wearing his fingerprints on her hips… She didn’t know what it said about it that she shivered at the thought and then shivered again when the little motion had her rubbing against his hard cock. “I’m angry and I’m frustrated and, while I still kind of want to kill you, my normal outlets are closed to me. I have to settle for you.” Strong words. Bold words. Her tone didn’t quite pull it off, though. She sounded needy.

“Your normal outlets,” he repeated slowly. He flexed his fingers on her hips, urging her to rock against him again, just the tiniest bit. “Tell me something, Rosa.”

“I don’t want to tell you anything.” The ridge of his cock lined up perfectly with her clit, and each stroke sent little zings of pleasure through her. What was he doing to her? They were barely touching. Even when she was more than ready to go, it usually took her a lot longer with Jackson to get to this point.

Except this wasn’t Jackson, was it? This was Dante.

Desire wound through her, thick as honey, and Rose knew her body well enough to recognize it wouldn’t take much to get her there. He hadn’t even kissed her. Hadn’t gone down on her. Hadn’t fingered her. Their movement could barely be called dry humping because it was so constrained.

He leaned forward until his lips brushed her ear. “You were so angry when I got away. Did you fuck someone to work out that rage?”

“I already told you. I fucked Romeo. Repeatedly. I went straight from shooting you to riding his cock.” Lies. All lies. Romeo hadn’t so much as touched her, and she certainly hadn’t pressed the issue. Romeo Capparelli was attractive enough from a distance, but once a person got close enough, only a fool would be convinced they saw something in his soulless eyes. Rose fully intended to do her duty and marry him to smooth over things, but she hadn’t been looking forward to consummating the relationship.

“I remember now. He fucked you everywhere, right?” He said it so casually. His tone gave her no warning. One moment he gripped her hips and the next he jerked her tighter against him and ran his hand down the center of her ass, his fingers delving between her cheeks. “Your ass.” Dante kept going until he cupped her roughly from behind. “Pussy.” He used his free hand to grip her chin and dragged his thumb over her bottom lip. “Mouth.”

“Da,” she finally managed. Rose licked her lips, her tongue sliding along his thumb and making his eyes go even darker. She was playing with fire, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop. “He made it good for me with his long, thick cock and clever fingers. And he ate my pussy for hours, until I lost count of orgasms. Nothing mediocre about it.”

Dante tightened his grip on her chin until it was just shy of painful. “Bugiarda.”

“What does that mean?” She’d fully intended to learn passable Italian at some point since the Capparellis had continued to be an issue, but Rose didn’t have the same skill with languages that Lorelei did, so she’d found reasons to put it off again and again. She wished she’d learned now.

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“Nyet.” She didn’t exactly mean to switch to Russian, but she was having trouble thinking straight with his hands on her. He held her up away from his cock and too tightly to rock against his fingers. Frustration loosened her tongue. “Ya nikogo ne trogal, krome tebya, ublyudok.” Something she didn’t mean to admit, even if he didn’t understand.

I haven’t touched anyone but you, you bastard.

Not out of any loyalty. She didn’t feel it for him. But it just hadn’t happened. Romeo didn’t push her on anything remotely sexual, and she wasn’t foolish enough to touch anyone else in the meantime, not while negotiating their pending marriage and what it would mean for both families. Rose could be reckless, but even she wasn’t that selfish.

And… There was her foolish heart to consider. It hadn’t felt right with anyone else and so it was easier to blame her pending marriage on her celibacy. Better that than admit she missed the man who’d lied to her, betrayed her. The enemy.

He stared hard. “What does that mean?”

“It means I fucked Romeo on every surface.”

“No… I don’t think so.” He tilted his head to the side, surveying her face. “If you’re going to use that mouth to lie to me, I’ll put it to better use.”

She expected him to shove her to her knees, to guide her to suck his cock, but Dante simply shifted his grip on her chin and pressed two fingers into her mouth. She was so shocked, she forgot to fight. Or that was what she told herself as he held her gaze and fucked her mouth with his fingers. Not fast. Not even hard. But so damn thoroughly that she’d never felt so owned in her life.

The rough pads of his fingers dragged through her lips and over her tongue, so deep, she gagged. Dante didn’t stop. He wasn’t touching her nose, so it wasn’t like she couldn’t breathe if she concentrated, but it was so damn hard to concentrate with him thrusting back down her tongue and giving her no time to recover.

And still, he watched her as if she were the most interesting thing in the world, a piece of art to be surveyed and purchased and owned. “I was so very careful with you, Rosa. Never too rough. Never too possessive. Safe. I let you set the pace when you sucked my cock, when we fucked. No longer.”

She tried to question him, but he gagged her again. Dante’s brows slammed down. “No, you will not lie to me anymore. I’m going to ask you a question, and you will give me the honest answer. Do you understand?” He didn’t remove his fingers, but he stopped fucking her mouth long enough for her to nod. “Bene.”

Dante eased his other hand off her pussy, reversing its journey in dragging his fingers over her ass and up to the small of her back. The rough handling had pulled her panties partly to the side, and the slick fabric of his shorts felt obscene against her throbbing center. “Let there be no misunderstanding between us. You can provoke me as much as you like, but I will not force you.” He held her gaze until she had to fight not to look away. “Do you want this cock?”

Her pride demanded she say no, but she’d already decided on this plan for reasons she couldn’t really drag into the light right now. It didn’t matter. She wanted this. Rose nodded slowly.

Dante slid his fingers from her mouth. “With your words, Rosa.” She started to wipe at her mouth, but he shook his head sharply. “No, I like you a mess. Now, stop stalling and tell me what you want.”

If she did this, there was no going back. Oh, she could change her mind later and she sincerely believed Dante would respect that choice even if he’d continue trying to seduce her. But there’d be no going back for her, and she’d have to answer some truly uncomfortable questions when she finally got back to the city.

It doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with the fallout later. I want this. I simply do.

“Da. Yes.” When he didn’t move, she gave him more. “I want your cock, Dante. Fuck me. Make me come. Please.”

He pressed a little circle to the small of her back, expression going contemplative. “If you change your mind, this stops. I will not have impatience on my part getting in the way of our future.”

They didn’t have a fucking future, but she managed to keep that to herself. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Bene.” He stood, lifting her as he did and setting her on her feet. “Sit on the bench, spread your legs, and pull your panties to the side. Now.”

Chapter 11

Dante knew a trap when he saw it, and this was most definitely a trap. Rose had come into the gym with the intention of letting this escalate, and it wasn’t simply because she wanted him too much to resist. She planned to use sex to cloud his judgment to further her end goal of escaping. A worthy plan, and it suited his purposes to allow this to play out. Sex was a double-edged sword, and he and Rose would continue to play this game of chicken until one of them faltered.

This close to having what he wanted most? It wouldn’t be him that missed a step.

But when she followed his order and sat on the bench, slowly spreading her thighs wide, and hooked the front of her panties to pull them to the side?

It took everything he had to stay on his feet and not fall to his knees before her. Best she not realize the power she had over him. She was ruthless enough that she wouldn’t hesitate to use it against him. He liked that about her, but he wasn’t going to hand her a weapon freely. He couldn’t help moving closer, though. “I fully intend to reclaim every part of you, Rosa. Starting with that aching little pussy practically begging for my tongue.”

She sucked in a breath. “Stop talking and put your money where your mouth is.”

“In a moment.” He didn’t trust himself to touch her yet. Not until they got one last order of business out of the way. “We didn’t use condoms before.” Oh, they had used them when they first started dating, but after a shared trip to the clinic to get tested, they’d forgone rubbers. He would go back to it if required, but he’d prefer to sink into Rose’s tight pussy without anything between them.

A small frown pulled her brows together. “I just got done telling you Romeo Capparelli fucked me seven ways to Sunday and you want to have sex without condoms?” Before he could answer, she charged on. “Beyond that, when we were together, you fucked me like three times a day to make up for the gaps when we couldn’t see each other, and you honestly expect me to believe you’ve gone three months without being with anyone else. Please.”

As if anyone but Rose would do once he’d decided on her. “In my defense, I did spend nearly an entire month recovering from my gunshot wounds.” He liked the way she blushed but refused to look away at that. Dante wasn’t usually one to give information freely, but she still believed it was all fake between them. If he had to continue to share the truth to combat that belief, it was a small price to pay. “Once I decided on you, it was only ever you, Rosa. No one else can compare.”

“And when was that?” She glared, but there was something almost vulnerable lingering in her eyes. “Don’t try to tell me it was when I shot you.”

It might be easier to believe than the truth. He shrugged. “It was at that art festival you dragged me to.”

She jolted. “What?”

At the time, he hadn’t been able to decide if her determination to hit all the random events that cropped up around New York were part of the mask or something she legitimately enjoyed. Dante had been half sure she was doing it to test him, to see when he’d finally put his foot down about going. She’d showed up that day with mirth in her hazel eyes and he’d known he was in for a day of being surrounded by too many people. “You had us each pick a painting.” A silly little game that he’d indulged because he was curious; would she pick as his girlfriend Rose or as Rose Romanov.

“We chose the same one,” she whispered. “I thought you were fucking with me.”

“I let you believe it.” The truth was he’d been strangely drawn to the abstract painting. It felt like violence and sex, and staring at it had made something go funny in his chest. The same something that went a little funny when he was around Rose. “It was real.”

“Stop it.”

He shook his head slowly. “We were both pretending in different ways, but that proved something to me. Down at our cores, we’re the same, Rosa.”

“Liar. Don’t try to use our shared history to manipulate me.”

“It’s the truth.” He leaned down slowly until their faces were even. “There’s only one liar in this room.”

“But—”

He pressed two fingers to her lips. Not pushing inside. Just silencing her. “But nothing. You forget, amata. I know Romeo Capparelli easily as well as you do. You weren’t dating. It was a business deal in the form of a marriage. He wouldn’t have fucked you and risked someone’s messy emotions ruining things. I bet he never even kissed you.” Dante waited, but she didn’t rush to throw more infuriating words at him. Good. “With all that said, the moment you were married, he would have claimed every part of you.” The very thought of the wedding night, of Romeo laying so much as a finger on Dante’s woman, of… “He would have wanted you pregnant as quickly as possible.”

Rose sucked in a breath. “It was in the negotiations, but that’s irrelevant.”

Unsurprising, but that didn’t make it easier to hear. Dante lowered his hand slowly. “It’s not irrelevant. Your pussy is mine, Rosa. And I’ll be reclaiming her now, so stop arguing semantics and tell me what you want. Condom or no?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“I don’t give a fuck about should or shouldn’t. Those words aren’t for us. Yes or no?”

He found himself holding his breath as she fought some internal battle. Saying yes would be a huge step in showing that, regardless of what she thought she should do, she actually trusted him. At least to keep her safe.

Finally, Rose shook her head. “We can’t.”

“What did I just say about—”

“We can’t, Dante. You didn’t snatch my birth control pills when you snatched me. It’s only been a little over twenty-four hours, I think, but it’s not worth the risk.”

For a moment, the temptation to press her on it nearly overwhelmed him. If there were a baby involved… No. Damn it, no. He hadn’t thought about kids, to be perfectly honest. It had never really occurred to him to worry about it overmuch. Breeding heirs was Matteo’s job once he finally settled down and married someone suitable. With Dante’s history, he was more suited to being a warrior rather than a caretaker. If…when…he and Rose had children, they would want for nothing and fear nothing because he would stand between them and whatever threats arose. Hell, he’d go one step further and ensure there were no threats to rise.

Apparently he did want kids.

With Rose.

But not yet.

He frowned. “Where can we get birth control pills?”

“Easy answer; take me home.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Enough talking. We’ll use rubbers.” He bent down and picked her up, ignoring her protests, and stalked out of the gym and into the main living room. He’d fuck her in the gym later. Right now, he wanted to take his time. He dumped her on the couch and moved to flick the fireplace back on. It wasn’t overly cold, but she had on next to nothing, and he didn’t want her getting chilled. “Take off your shirt, Rosa.”

“Condoms.”

“Si.” He yanked open the drawer in the center of the coffee table and grabbed a handful of them. “Good enough?”

She stared. “How long have those been in there?”

“They’re replaced monthly.”

She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t your murder-cabin, then. It’s your fuck-cabin.”

“This is my cabin, and sometimes that means I bring people here I want to fuck, si.” He dropped the condoms on the coffee table and planted his hands on either side of the pile. “Are you feeling jealous, amata? None of them compared to you.”

“I’m not jealous.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and dragged it up and over her head. Rose tossed the shirt away and leaned back a bit on her elbows. The move arched her back and put her tits on full display. They were perfect and she knew it. She lifted a brow, silently challenging him.

He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him, that she constantly provoked him because she trusted him not to cross the line. He liked it a lot. Dante moved around the coffee table so he could sit on it in front of her. Not much space separated them, giving him a front-row view of how her breasts shook with each breath, her dark-pink nipples tight and distended. “Spread your thighs, nice and wide. Let me see you.”

She obeyed slowly, her breathing picking up without him so much as touching her. Her panties, a bright-blue thong, were already wet and tangled from their early interaction, and they gaped, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her pussy. He hadn’t noted it in the shower because he’d been too focused on how good she felt clamped around his fingers; now there were no distractions. She looked different here, too. “You waxed for him.”

“Da.” She obviously meant for that to come out sharp, but she was panting too hard to pull it off.

Dante hooked two fingers around the front of her panties, tugging the damp fabric from her skin. He shifted his fingers up and down, dragging his knuckles lightly over her. He didn’t have preferences about grooming one way or another—she was Rose, and therefore, he wanted her—but knowing she waxed for another man, that she intended to let him touch her like this…

Jealous was too tame a word.

“Dante.”

“Hush, I’m thinking.” He kept up the slow movements, very aware of how she became wetter and wetter in response. Her pussy fucking bloomed for him.

Would it have bloomed for Romeo?

“You’re mine, Rosa.”

“Nyet.”

“Si.” He held her gaze and pressed two fingers into her. “This pussy, this body, that fucking brain of yours. Mine.”

“Nyet.” But she spread her legs wider and rolled her hips, urging his fingers deeper. “It’s just sex.”

“Always the lies with you.” He twisted his wrist, finding that spongey spot inside her that had her sucking in a breath. “Will you pretend you’re faking this, too? No. No more lies, Rosa. You’re going to come for me again and again until I’m satisfied, and then I’m going to fuck this pretty pussy until you forget his name.”

“It’ll never happen.”

Why did she keep fighting him even as her body took him eagerly?

Why did he like it so much?

“You make me crazed.”

“Dante.” She cupped her breasts, rolling her hips as she tried to fuck his fingers. “God, that feels good. Don’t stop.” She reached out a shaking hand. “Kiss me.”

“No.” He pressed a third finger into her, staring at her lying mouth. He wanted to taste her again more than he wanted his next breath, but he wouldn’t. “Not until you tell me truth instead of the bullshit you keep spouting.”

“But—”

“Not until you stop fucking lying.” He went to his knees in front of her and fisted the pathetic excise for panties in either hand. One good jerk and the fabric ripped down the center. Rose barely had time to gasp before he descended and kissed her pussy.

The same, but different. Everything was the same but so fucking different.

He gripped her thighs and pressed her legs up and out, spreading her obscenely. He backed enough to stare down at her pussy and ass, right there for the taking.

“Dante.” She dug her fingers into his hair and tugged. “Please.”

As much as part of him wanted to torment her as long as he could, his woman was in need, and he wouldn’t leave her hanging like this. Not when the scent of her desire nearly had him coming in his shorts. He let her guide him back to the apex of her thighs and licked her from front to back before reversing course. Even as she started shaking, her legs fighting his grip, he took his time reacquainting himself with her until he worked his way up to her clit. He exhaled against the sensitive bud, making her whimper in response.

Dante gave up all teasing at that whimper. He sealed his mouth to her pussy, working her clit in the vertical strokes she liked so much. She cried out, bucking against his hold, but he held her down and didn’t relent. Breathless Russian spilled from her lips in an increasing crescendo, and then she was coming, crying out loud enough to nearly be labeled a scream.

He didn’t stop.

He kept at her clit, bringing her over that crest again and again until her body went limp. It wasn’t enough. A few measly orgasms weren’t anywhere near enough to erase three months of absence, to blot out the fact he’d almost lost her for good to Romeo’s bed. No, not that. Never that. Even if she’d married the fucker, Dante would have killed him and taken her anyway. She was his. Once she got over her pride, she’d admit as much.

Dante moved away from her pussy, dragging his mouth along one of her thighs and then the other. She blinked down at him, clearly dazed. “Someone has something to prove.”

“That’s not what this is, Rosa.” He kissed his way up her body, maneuvering her onto her back on the couch so he could settle between her legs. “This is a new beginning.”

She reached up with a trembling hand and touched his temple, smoothing down the hair there, but she didn’t respond with words. That was okay. He had nothing but time, and she’d already paved the way for them taking their first steps into the future he wanted. Right now, with her limp and sated beneath him, all the bullshit and theatrics felt justified. This was what he wanted more than anything. Forever.

“Dante.” She reached around him to run her hands down his back and dip them beneath the band of his shorts. “Kiss me.”

“No.”

She blinked. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’ll kiss you.” He met her gaze. “When you admit that you want this and we’re endgame.”

“I already admitted I wanted this.” She smiled a little. “You have evidence of how much I wanted it all over your face.”

Maybe another man would consider that enough. She was willing, and he wanted to taste her lips again. Dante was stronger than those weak fucks. He wanted it all, and if he had to deny himself even as he denied her, so be it. “You’re so damn sly with your words, Rosa.” He returned her smile slowly. “You never cease to be a challenge.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a challenge.”

“There you go again, lying to me.” He let his weight rest more fully against her, enjoying the way she shivered in response. Dante dug one hand into her hair and tugged her head to the side so he could kiss her neck, working his way down to the spot that always made her go weak for him. It happened again. The moment he set his teeth against her skin, she gave another of those delicious whimpers and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Dante,” Rose gasped. “Dante, please.” She turned her face to press kisses along his temple, his cheek, his jaw.

He had to move away now, to flip her onto her stomach to keep control, to do something, but when her lips brushed the corner of his mouth and she arched up to rub herself along the length of his cock, his brain shorted out. That was the only explanation that made any sense, because one moment he was firmly planning Rose’s continued seduction, and the next, his mouth was on hers.

She tasted like…victory and home and everything he’d ever wanted.

Dante’s leash snapped.

Chapter 12

Rose didn’t know what she was doing. If Dante didn’t want to kiss her, she should leave it alone. The more distance between them, the better. Except she couldn’t stop. This was nothing like she expected, this man becoming a wave that swept her away entirely. Her body still sang from what he’d done with his mouth, and now his strong body pressed her back into the couch even as he plundered her mouth.

It felt the same but different. Her body knew his, knew the dips and planes, knew that he loved it when she whimpered and rubbed herself against him, too desperate to worry about her pride. But this was so much more intense than it had ever been between them.

Her desire was a bonfire flaring hotter with each touch, each word. It didn’t matter that she’d just come harder than she could have dreamed. She wanted more. She needed more.

Slow down.

Fuck that. She didn’t want to. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, that little voice continued to call out warnings, but she was too far gone. Rose gripped Dante’s ass and arched up, rubbing herself along his length even as she encouraged him to thrust against her. More, more, more. She shoved down his shorts, working the slick fabric down his hips with her legs and hands.

And then there was nothing between them at all.

Dante hitched one of her legs higher and changed his movement, dragging his length over her slowly. His kiss changed, too. The burst of frenetic energy shifted to him dominating her mouth in a way he’d never done before. He claimed her with that kiss.

And she? She didn’t have to stay partially in her head in that moment. She didn’t have to worry about toning down her responses or being too rough.

She could lie with her words, but she couldn’t lie in this moment.

He pressed her into the couch, thrusting harder in response to her digging her nails into his ass. Rose moaned against his tongue and kissed him back just as fiercely. He tasted of her desire and just pure Dante, and the mix went straight to her head.

She arched against him, rubbing her breasts against his bare chest. God, there was too much stimulation. It felt too good. She couldn’t think. All her planning and manipulating and bullshit, and it went right out the window the second she got naked with this man. This was supposed to be for a purpose, but she couldn’t focus on anything but getting him inside her.

Rose rolled her hips, and he moved back just enough that his cock notched at her entrance. They both froze. Dante nipped her bottom lip and kissed along her jaw to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “Tell me to stop.”

She had to. She had to right now. This was more than playing with fire. She was in the middle of the inferno. That should terrify her. It did terrify her but…

A part of her wanted to do it anyways.

Rose closed her eyes and inhaled, trying to think, but all she could see, smell, feel was Dante. “We can’t.”

“I know.”

He wasn’t even arguing with her. Why did she hesitate? She could not risk pregnancy, not with this man. “We really can’t.”

Dante cursed softly in Italian against her throat. “Un giorno matterò un bambino nella tua pancia, amata.” He lifted himself up enough to meet her gaze. “But not yet.”

“Dante—”

He moved back to kneel between her thighs and grabbed a condom off the table. “Have you changed your mind?”

About what? About risking too much? About having sex?

She shook her head slowly. “No.” It was the only answer. It had to be the only answer.

He rolled on the condom and gave himself a stroke, almost as if testing it. “Hold yourself open for me, amata.”

It never occurred for her to do anything but obey. She reached down and parted her pussy, holding her breath as he braced a hand by her head and guided his cock back to her entrance. This time, there was no reason to hesitate, no reason to stop. She half expected Dante to go slow. He had in the past; he was big enough that they had to be careful, and when they’d dated, he’d always been so careful to ease her into that first stroke, no matter how much foreplay they’d indulged in.

He didn’t go slow this time. Of course, he didn’t. This was Dante, not Jackson. He pushed into her as if he knew her body could take it, as if he expected it. Except…the devastating concentration on his face was the same. The cock currently splitting her in two was the same. Even after three months, her body knew his, knew the moves of this dance between them.

Is he telling the truth? Was some of it true?

His dark gaze tracked up her body with a possessiveness she should argue against, but she couldn’t find the breath or the words. Italian poured from his mouth, but she didn’t have the capacity to wonder what the fuck he was saying to her with that look on his face because he slammed the last few inches and stole everything but her need for more.

Dante kissed her again as he moved inside her. Not strokes, exactly, but pulses that had her writhing against him. It felt good, really good, but it was nowhere near enough. She tried to get leverage to move against him, but he had her pinned with his body weight and cock.

She broke the kiss enough to demand, “More.”

“All you have to do is ask, Rosa. I’ll give you anything. Everything.” He moved back again, depriving her of the delicious contact of his chest to hers, but instantly made up for it when he jerked her hips up with him.

“You want more? I’ll give you more.” Dante guided her legs over his arms, still maintaining the incline, and then he started fucking her properly. Long, seeking strokes that had him rubbing against her G-spot. The moment he found exactly the right angle and rhythm to have her eyes damn near rolling back in her head, he kept it up, driving her closer and closer to orgasm.

“Touch yourself, amata.”

She didn’t hesitate. She hadn’t hesitated since this all began. She just snaked her hand down her stomach and stroked her clit. Pleasure coiled so tightly through her, so strongly, it was almost pain. “Dante.”

“Say it again.”

She shouldn’t. She’d already yielded so much. This particular command felt even more personal than the others. It didn’t matter. He hit that spot deep inside her even as she stroked her clit, and her orgasm took her under. She cried out his name as she came around his cock.

Dante barely waited for her wave to crest before he covered her with his body and fucked her like salvation lay on the other side of his orgasm. She was so sensitized, she came again with a gasp that he kissed away. He ground into her, his expression nearly furious as he orgasmed. “Mine, Rosa.” Then he collapsed on top of her.

Holy shit. She stared at the ceiling as her heart fought to slow back to a normal pace and her body went loose and pliant from the echoes of pleasure. It had always been good with him, but this was on another level entirely. She shivered at the thought of what else he had up his sleeve when it came to sex. This whole experience was like fucking a stranger who already had your body memorized. There was no need to fumble through a first encounter because they had so much history. And yet this wasn’t the same as fucking Jackson. Not even a little bit.

She smacked his shoulder lightly. “I can’t believe you held out on me.”

He caught her mouth in a brief kiss. “I’m not the only one who held out.”

He…wasn’t wrong. “Dante…”

“I love it when you say my name like that, all sated and lazy.” He kissed her again and reached between them to hold the condom in place as he eased out of her.

She watched him walk out of the living room. A few seconds later, the water ran in the bathroom. Rose should get up, should move, should do something. Her body wouldn’t obey her sluggish mental commands, though. The best she could do was turn on her side and grab a fallen pillow from the ground to prop under her head.

Dante didn’t stay away for long. He reappeared still completely naked and eyed her. “Are you about to have regrets and cry about how this was a mistake?”

Just like that, reality slapped her in the face. What the fuck was she doing? Waiting for cuddles? Comparing having sex with Dante against their history and trying to look for evidence that he wasn’t lying when he said it was real for him, too?

She sure as hell couldn’t think about the arts festival or what he’d said. They were engaged in emotional warfare, and she was losing.

That got her moving. “I don’t cry over bullshit like fucking someone I shouldn’t.” She’d chosen this every step of the way. She could tell herself she hadn’t had another option, but it wasn’t the truth and they both knew it. Rose might lie to Dante, and happily, but she wouldn’t lie to herself.

She’d loved fucking him.

She wanted to do it again.

She…missed him.

It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. All the orgasms in the world didn’t change who Dante was or what he’d done. Or what happened next. He would die, and she would return to New York to marry Romeo Capparelli like some kind of fucked-up tragedy. In the past three months of planning and strategy meetings, Rose hadn’t paused long enough to mourn the loss her marriage represented. She wasn’t the type to worry overmuch about a love match, not when she had so many other priorities to focus on. Who cared that she needed to marry a stranger if it meant her family and their people remained safe?

She didn’t love Dante—she didn’t even know him, not really—but she couldn’t deny they shared a spark that was entirely absent between her and Romeo. She was destined for a cold marriage to someone that was truly a stranger. It was her duty, and she’d do it.

She just didn’t expect to mourn the loss of a future she’d barely let herself consider.

Dante gave her a surprisingly happy grin. “In that case, why don’t I make us something to eat, and you can put a movie on?”

The words were familiar. How many times after they’d had sex had he put forth the same offer? Dante was brilliant in the kitchen, even on what had appeared to be a low budget. He’d cook for her, slowly seducing her again with delicious smells and then amazing food. After they ate, they’d cuddle together while watching whatever random movie she’d picked from his various streaming channels. The movie never mattered, because they never made it through the whole thing before having sex again.

Her chest ached with a sudden longing that made her dizzy. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You said I’m the liar, but what the fuck are you?” Rose pushed to her feet and ran her fingers through her hair. Her body still ached with the aftermath of pleasure, a bell chiming to a tune only Dante could match. “You don’t get to manipulate me using my history with Jackson.” She had to keep them separate. She had to. Because if she had the intimacy she shared with Jackson and the brutal truths and intense sex she had with Dante… That combination scared her right down her to her bruised heart.

Dante gave her a long look. “It wasn’t all a lie.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It wasn’t,” he insisted. “Do you really think my assignment was to date you for months? To cook for you? To watch hundreds of movies and bicker about the different characters and plot choices? To tag along to all those weird ass festivals and events you managed to find?”

He had been overly invested in the morally gray characters, but so were millions of people. There was a reason those types did so well. And the festivals? It had become something of an inside joke between them, and she’d enjoyed searching out the weirdest ones within drivable distance to take him to, just to see the look of vague horror on his face and hear his low, snarky comments as they explored. It was like a secret just for the two of them.

She couldn’t have known… No. I am not going down this rabbit hole again. She shook her head. “You were playing me.”

“I lied about my identity. I edited some of my past. That’s it.”

She couldn’t deal with that, couldn’t handle what he was saying. If it wasn’t entirely a lie—Rose shook her head again, harder this time. It didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter. No matter what her traitorous heart tried to interject, Dante Verducci was a monster and the enemy. She couldn’t afford to forget that. “If we’re done here?”

“Rose.” Even though she very much didn’t want to look at him, she couldn’t resist the pull in his voice. Dante waited for her to meet his gaze to continue. “The faster you figure it out, the better for everyone. You and me? We’ll never be done.”

Dante gave her space the rest of the day—after insisting that she eat something and cooking breakfast for her—but it wasn’t as if there was much space to be had in this cabin. Every time she turned around, he was there, finishing his workout in the gym, reading in the living room, showering in the bathroom. She wasn’t even certain he was doing it on purpose. The cabin just wasn’t big enough to avoid him completely.

Rose finally gave up and changed into some workout clothing and ran a few miles on the treadmill in the gym in an attempt to keep herself from climbing the walls.

She had to focus on getting free, but all she could do was go ’round and ’round again comparing Jackson and Dante. He might not have had to date her, but she shot him. Apparently that had only made her more interesting to him.

The man was unhinged.

She stopped at five miles, not wanting to overdo it. Even so, it had been weeks since she kept up a regular fitness schedule, and her legs were shaking as she stepped off the treadmill. “Damn it.” She really wouldn’t stand a chance if she somehow got free. She’d wager Dante’s stamina outdid hers, so he’d just run her into the ground if she somehow managed to get through the door.

That didn’t stop her from checking the high windows in the gym to see if they opened.

They didn’t.

She walked back to the door and braced herself. Dante might have allowed her distance for the last few hours, but it wouldn’t last. He’d brought her here for a reason, and that reason did not involve her avoiding him for days on end.

More than that, she couldn’t afford to avoid him for days on end. Not if she wanted to get home before the powder keg of a situation exploded and got someone killed.

She stepped out of the gym and inhaled sharply at the delicious scent that assaulted her. Dante stood at the kitchen island, wearing only a pair of lounge pants, and chopping vegetables. Behind him, a pot of water boiled, and he had some kind of tomato-based sauce simmering next to it. She took in the other ingredients, so familiar from how many times he’d cooked the meal for her before.

Spaghetti with rosa carbonara.

Her favorite.

“My mother taught me how to make this. Did I ever tell you that?”

She froze, her feet seeming to grow roots on the spot. Dante had never talked much about his mother. She knew the woman had raised him alone, away from the family, and that she’d died when he was a teenager, which was when his uncle took him in. But though he’d been full of stories of his asshole uncle or his chaotic cousin, he rarely shared anything about the woman who birthed him. “Oh?” Rose finally managed.

“Si.” He tossed the vegetables into a bowl of romaine lettuce and turned to lean against the counter. “She didn’t have many good days, but that was one of them. I think I was thirteen, or somewhere close to it.”

She should walk away from this conversation. Nothing good could come of it. “I couldn’t find any information about your mother. It’s as if she never existed.” She’d looked, of course. After she realized Dante played her, she’d spent far too long following the perverse need to know everything she could find about him. The paper trail only started when he was fourteen. Other than his mother being Lorenzo Verducci’s little sister, nothing else was known about his life before that point. The mystery bothered her.

“Lorenzo isn’t forgiving of those who step out of line.” He shrugged. “She got pregnant and wouldn’t name the father and wouldn’t let him marry her off to one of his men to cover it up. So, he threw her out.”

It wasn’t an uncommon story, especially among some of the other families. Even the Romanovs weren’t above reproach when it came to that sort of thing, though Papa would cut off his own hand before he cut off one of his daughters from their family. “Why did you go back?”

“She overdosed.” He said it without any inflection at all, almost as if reciting the weather. “In hindsight, I don’t think it was on purpose, but the drugs fucked her up, and she kept chasing that escape.”

Oh, Dante.

Rose’s throat threatened to close. She inhaled slowly, doing her best not to picture him at fourteen with a dead mother and nowhere to go. He didn’t have the market cornered on fucked-up childhoods, but she still couldn’t help the sympathy that flowed through her. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Not hers either.” Another shrug, though a line of tension had appeared in his shoulders. “Lorenzo will pay for his sins before too long, even if it won’t be my hand that finally ends him.”

“Dante…”

“It’s fine.” He moved to the stove. “I didn’t tell you so you’d pity me.”

She didn’t pity him. Not exactly. But Rose’s heart hurt at the thought of losing her mother so early. Mama was such a larger-than-life part of growing up, she couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to have a gaping hole in place of all those warm memories. Even when they clashed when Rose was a teenager, her mother had always been a safe space for her.

Rose cleared her throat. “So, she taught you to make this.”

“Si. I think we made four batches that day before she was satisfied.” He finally looked back at her. “Don’t argue with me about the couch tonight, amata. We’ll share a bed.”

She should say no. It was the right call to make. But Rose found herself nodding slowly. “Okay. I’ll share the bed with you.”

She hoped like hell she hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

Chapter 13

Three days later, Rose hadn’t made any progress. She didn’t know the code to the exterior door. She hadn’t found a single window to open or a phone to call home.

She had however, watched approximately twelve movies with Dante and eaten enough Italian food to put herself into a food coma. And they talked. Sometimes, it was her threatening him and him taking it as foreplay. Sometimes, he’d manage to coax little tidbits from her about her sisters. And sometimes, the times she craved more than she had a right to, he’d share tidbits about his life and history. About those years with his mother when she was alive. About some of the wild shit he’d gotten up to with his cousin Matteo when they were teenagers.

Some of the stories she’d heard before. The new context of knowing the truth of him gave her a framework that made a lot more sense why Dante and Matteo had never ended up in jail for some of the shit they’d gotten into.

And in between all that, they had sex. So much sex that her body felt permanently, deliciously sore.

She’d started to lose touch with reality. It felt like they were in a different world, like nothing existed beyond these four walls. A dangerous thought, but Rose could feel it sinking in each time she came around Dante’s cock. Every time he put a plate in front her with a forbidding look on his face as if her forgetting to eat when she was stressed was a personal affront to him.

She shifted between the sheets, feeling lazy and relaxed… At least until Dante moved behind her and his mouth trailed down her spine. He loved to wake her up like this, kissing and stroking until he coaxed her from sleep.

“Dante,” she sighed.

“I like it when you say my name like that.” He palmed her ass as he licked the small of her back. He set his teeth against the upper curve and chuckled when she jumped. “So fucking bitable.”

She huffed out a laugh. “You keep doing that. I’m going to be wearing your teeth marks for days.”

“Good.” Another careful bite. “Lift your hips.”

“Wait.”

He hesitated. “Si? You have something on your mind?”

Didn’t she always? Right now, it was guilt that the only thing she wanted was for him to continue his path and eat her pussy from behind until she came all over his face. But this had to stop, and it had to stop now. “Dante, you have to let me go,” she whispered.

“No.”

Rose started to push herself up, but he planted a hand in the middle of her back and kept her facedown on the mattress. “No,” he repeated. “You know the condition on us leaving this cabin. Until you’re ready to say yes to me, I’m more than happy to stay here with you and see how many different ways I can make you come.”

Until she was ready to say yes to him, to marry him.

She cursed, her relaxed mood popping like a soap bubble. “I’m marrying Romeo. I don’t know how to get it through your head that it’s happening. Sex is sex, and no matter what I do with you, it changes nothing.”

“Mmmm.” He plunged two fingers into her pussy, making her moan even as she fisted the sheets. Rose couldn’t decide if she wanted to fight him or arch her back to offer him better access. It was always like this with them now. Her instincts were all messed up over this man. Dante fucked her slowly with his fingers, spreading her growing wetness over her folds and clit in between each stroke. “It’s not Romeo’s fingers inside you right now.”

“It could be if you hadn’t interfered.” She didn’t know why she kept baiting him like this. No, that was a lie. Damn it. She knew exactly why she did it. For his responses. Nothing snapped Dante’s control like her dangling Romeo in front of him, and she craved that breaking of control with a ferocity that worried her.

Case in point.

He gripped the spot where her ass met thighs and dug his fingers in, parting her pussy even as he lifted her hips higher. “If you’re going to insist on baiting me—”

“You’ll do what exactly?”

The broad head of his cock brushed her entrance, and her breath caught in her lungs. A threat and a promise, and she was pretty sure she was dripping at this point from how much she wanted him to follow through on it. He’d done this before, had teased them both with the one thing they should absolutely not do.

This time, though… This time, he didn’t retreat. He spoke softly, almost as if to himself. “I have let you guide things. I haven’t put pressure on you.”

She might laugh if she could draw breath. “You kidnapped me.”

“Did I force you to take my cock, Rosa?” he snarled.

No. She couldn’t even pretend he had. She was the one who’d made the first move that first time, but he checked in with her every time before things escalated. For consent, sure, but she suspected he loved hearing her beg him to make her come on his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

“No,” he answered when it became clear she refused to. “No, I have only given you exactly what you ask for, and when you whimper and writhe and rub that wet pussy all over my cock, teasing me at your entrance even as you tell me we shouldn’t, I have been the one to hold the line.”

He was right, but she didn’t care. She didn’t seem to care about anything when he had his hands on her. God, she was such a fucking mess, and she’d worry about it later. Right now, the insistent pressure of his cock against her entrance threatened to drive her mad. “Do you want a cookie for your restraint?”

“No.” He released her ass with one hand, and then he was dragging the head of his cock through her folds. Slowly, so fucking slowly. He rubbed over her clit and then went back up to press against her entrance. “I am no saint, amata.”

It was as if Rose’s brain skipped. One moment she was telling herself to say the words get a condom. The next, she shifted back. Dante could have stopped her. He still had a hold of her ass with one hand. He was stronger. He could have held her back. But, as he said, he was no saint.

The head of his cock breached her entrance.

They both froze.

His hand trembled where his fingers dug into her flesh. Rationally, this shouldn’t feel that different than sex with a condom, but it wasn’t about rational. It was the fact they shouldn’t be doing this. They both knew they shouldn’t be doing this. And that knowledge only made her want it more.

Just as suddenly as he entered her, he was gone. She didn’t mean to cry out in protest, but Rose didn’t mean to do a lot of stuff when it came to this man. He hooked her around the hips, and the room spun as he dropped back onto the bed with her straddling his hips.

“Why—”

He shook his head. “You do this, you don’t get to say I pushed you. You don’t get to press your face to the sheets and pretend you had no choice.” He grabbed her hips and rubbed her down the length of his cock where it was now trapped between their bodies. “You choose this, you own that decision.”

This was the moment she should stop everything. Should get up and go take a cold shower. Should revisit all the exit strategies she’d come up with and discarded as impossible.

Rose didn’t.

She leaned down to kiss him, loving the way his bare skin felt against hers. This moment hardly felt real. It was simply another battle of wills between them. Who would break first? She kissed Dante’s strong jaw and kept working herself against his cock. “Do you like the way I feel, d’yavol?” She nipped his bottom lip. “All wet and needy for your cock.”

“You’re provoking me.” His hands tightened on her hips before he seemed to make himself relax his grip. “It won’t work. Not this time.”

“Da, it will.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrists and brought his hands up to cup her breasts. Rose liked the way his hands looked on her body. She liked it far too much. Even better, she liked how the width of his cock spread her pussy folds, how he got harder when she looked at him, how needy they both looked in this moment. “I’ve soaked your cock, d’yavol. I think I could come just from this.”

His brows drew together. “What does that mean? D’yavol?” He repeated the word in almost perfect Russian. It sent a thrill through her she most certainly should not have felt.

Rose tilted her hips so his cock notched at her entrance again. A threat and a promise. God, she wanted it. She didn’t care anymore. She’d deal with the consequences later. When she answered, she whispered the words against Dante’s lips. “It means devil.”

“Am I the devil to you, amata?” He smoothed his hands down her sides and over her ass, urging her to tilt so he pressed more insistently against her. His eyes seared her as she swiveled her hips, teasing them both.

“Da.”

“Then the devil I’ll be.” He held her gaze as he exerted the smallest pressure on her ass. Not nearly enough to do more than hint at where he wanted her to go. She couldn’t blame that tiny contact on her sinking onto his bare cock.

No, she only one she had to blame was herself.

She wanted this, even if it damned her.

At this point, being damned was all but a guarantee.

Chapter 14

This might be a mistake that came back to haunt him, but with Rose’s tight pussy clamping around his bare cock, Dante couldn’t bring himself to care. No matter what he said aloud, he knew the truth. Rose wasn’t his. Not yet. Not until she chose him the way he chose her. Fucking her bare when her birth control was fucked up would either drive a wedge between them or seal them together for good. The odds weren’t in his favor, though.

He didn’t care.

It felt too good to stop.

This woman short-circuited something in his brain. The taste of her, the scent of her, the vision she created as she planted her hands on his chest and started riding his cock. There were faint marks on her body from the past three days. Bruises from his fingertips on her hips. A love bite on the curve of her left breast. Beard burn on her thighs and throat. All would fade with time. He hated that.

“You feel so good, d’yavol.”

D’yavol. Devil.

An apt name, though he should probably argue it. No one married the devil. Or, rather, no one normal did. Rose wasn’t normal, though. She was playing on an entirely different field than most people. She wasn’t a civilian who’d wandered into the life on accident. She was born and raised in blood and violence, same as him. A woman like Rose? She understood the value of having the devil at her side.

“Touch me, Dante.”

He was touching her, but he knew exactly what she meant. Dante shifted one hand around her hip so he could give her clit the friction she needed to get off. She was wet and slippery against his thumb, and he stared at the spot where their bodies joined and… Fuck. Watching his cock disappear into her pussy gave him a better hit than any drug on this planet. Mine.

He meant to stop when she came. He truly did. Dante would not see the path forward with Rose turn to scorched earth before he’d taken more than a few steps. Intentions didn’t mean shit when it came down to it, though.

She came with the sweetest cry and ground down on his cock, her pussy clamping around him. Between one breath and the next, he lost control. Pleasure overtook him, and he cursed as he came. Inside her.

Rose slumped down against his chest. It was the most natural thing in the world to wrap his arms around her and hold her as their breathing eased back to a more normal cadence. She was the type of woman who was larger than life when she moved and spoke, but right now, she felt all too human. All too breakable.

He would never do it. But others? Dante knew better. The sooner she agreed to be his and they made it public, the sooner he could ensure she was properly protected.

Rose stirred and pushed off his chest. It made him ache to release her, but he did it anyway. He had the long game in mind, and that meant holding her with a lighter hand right now. She blinked down at him, those hazel eyes holding things he didn’t fully understand. “Dante…we have to go to a pharmacy.”

Even though part of him knew she was right, a stronger, uglier voice took control. “Did you fuck me without a condom as a way out of this cabin?”

She jerked back as if he’d struck her. “You are such an asshole.” Rose scrambled off him. She was unsteady on her feet but quick, and she dodged his attempt to grab her wrist easily. “Do not touch me right now. I mean it.”

He flopped back onto the bed and watched her stride away from him. He knew better than to say some ridiculous shit like that. She wouldn’t put herself in danger simply to get free; not even Rose was that ruthless. But doubt had sown its seeds and he couldn’t entirely rule it out. One of the things he loved about this woman was the lengths she’d go. She fucking shot him. Twice. Risking pregnancy when there were so many options available was entirely within the realm of possibilities.

He’d fucked up.

If he kept her here and ignored her need to go to a pharmacy, he’d lose her for good. She wouldn’t let something like an unintended pregnancy derail her plans, and she sure as fuck wouldn’t marry him in some outdated belief that it was the right choice to make. She was like his mother in that, and he respected her for it even as he cursed himself for letting them get into this situation.

Losing her was an unacceptable consequence, so he sat up. He could hear the shower running, and her muttering to herself in Russian in the bathroom, so he ducked into the closet and made quick work of the latch into the safe room. If they were going back to civilization before planned, he needed to know what he was walking into.

He glanced at the cameras, but as expected, they were clear. The only person who knew the location of this cabin was Matteo, and his cousin wouldn’t betray him. He’d hidden it under half a dozen shell companies, none of them even remotely connected with the Verducci family. There was no reason to worry, but Dante hadn’t lived this long by ignoring his instincts.

Something felt…off. Not simply because of what had just happened.

He dialed his cousin, waiting impatiently while the line rang. Just when he thought it would go to voicemail, Matteo answered in Italian. “You have shit timing, cugino.” In the background, someone moaned.

Dante shook his head but wasted no time getting to the point. “Change of plans. We’re coming back.”

“She folded that fast?”

“No. We’re at an impasse, but the situation has become more complicated.”

“Hold on.” Matteo’s voice went muffled as he murmured to whoever he was in the middle of fucking. When he came back on the line, he sounded more focused. “Tell me.”

“There’s a chance she might be pregnant.” It didn’t happen that fast. He wasn’t a doctor, but even he knew that. Still, time was of the essence if they wanted to avoid that particular fate. Oh, there were still other options available, but better to do…whatever it was that Plan B did. Flush out the system? Dante honestly wasn’t sure.

All he knew was that when Rose was finally pregnant with his child, it would be because she chose it, because she chose him, and so the moment would be filled with joy and not this sick dread in his stomach at the thought that he was in danger of losing her for good.

Matteo laughed. “Good. Fuck her a few more times to be sure.”

His cousin’s attempt to be supportive fell significantly short of the mark. “It’s not that easy.”

“You always complicate things. Women are emotional creatures. If you’ve been fucking the past few days, she’s already half in love with you. She’ll come around. Just hold your ground.”

Matteo was brilliant in a number of ways, but romantic relationships didn’t number among them. “I’ll take advice from you when you’ve dated someone longer than a few months.”

“Si, si, you’re very superior.” Matteo laughed. “Look, my father is still fuming, so I wouldn’t come back here until you’ve married her. Take her back to the cabin after your little errand. It’s the safest place for both of you. He’s not the only thing you have to worry about right now, anyway.”

Dante tensed at the strange note in his brother’s voice. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Our people reported Romanovs sniffing around the small towns in your area. Two sets of them, actually. Your girl’s family is better than you expected because they’re already close.”

He’d expected it, but not this quickly. They should have been chasing red herrings of those other pit stops for at least another week. But that wasn’t the most concerning part. Two sets of Romanovs? “I’m surprised Kirill’s stirred himself to offer even this much help.”

“They’re not his people. I don’t know these Russians. None of the usual suspects, they don’t seem to be cooperating with the New York Romanovs, and Kirill’s gone awfully quiet since they showed up.”

None of that was good news. He didn’t like the implications of the greater Russian branch of the Romanovs becoming involved in this. Dmitri Romanov would not have asked Jovan Romanov for help, not when doing so would give the old man an excuse to fuck with Dmitri’s territory and family. He’d been successfully fending off Jovan’s meddling for years, and Dante didn’t see that changing now. More, if Kirill was laying low in response to their presence, even though they were half a state away from LA, then…

It didn’t matter. No one was finding the cabin anytime soon. They just had to get into a pharmacy, get Rose the meds, and get out again without anyone seeing them. Considering how many options they had for towns around this area, it should be child’s play to avoid anyone seeing us for that duration.

Should.

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“I could always send someone your way with the shit you need.”

Tempting, but he’d rather keep the information of their location between him and his cousin. Their people were mostly good and loyal, but all it took was a high enough price or long enough under the gentle care of one of their enemies’ wet workers and that information would be up for grabs. “No.”

“Suit yourself.” Matteo’s tone had gone distracted. “If that’s all?”

“Si, go back to having fun with your guest.”

“Oh, I plan on it. Stay safe, cugino.” His cousin hung up.

Dante checked the feeds one last time and ducked back out into the closet just as the water of the shower shut off. The smart thing to do would be to leave Rose here and retrieve the meds himself. He was reasonably certain she couldn’t escape in his absence, but the thought of her alone and essentially defenseless…

Maybe it was irrational. He couldn’t think his way around the problem. His fucking emotions were in the way for the first time in his life. He wanted her at his side, and he couldn’t figure out if it was truly the most logical solution or if he was compromising everything just because he didn’t want her out of his sight.

He practically threw open the door to the bathroom, making Rose jump. “Get dressed. We’re going.” When all she did was stare, he cursed. “Time is of the essence, right? More time equals less chance of it working.”

“Da,” she said slowly.

“Then get dressed, Rosa. If you want these meds, we’ll get them for you.”

She tucked the towel more tightly around herself and gave him a wary look. “Why are you suddenly being so supportive?”

Frustration bloomed, but he fought it back down. He would not, under any circumstances, give her more ammunition to use against him. They’d made progress the past couple days, even though she’d deny it if he pointed it out. He forced himself to slow down, to cut all emotion from his tone. “My uncle tried to use an unplanned pregnancy to control my mother. I will do many unforgivable things, amata, but not that. Never that.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

“When you get pregnant with my child, it will be because we plan it.”

Rose blinked. Blinked again. The surprise faded from her face, replaced by indignation. “You’re really out of your goddamn mind. Do you know that?”

“You’ve said it before.” He preferred to think he was a man who knew what he wanted and wouldn’t be dissuaded from his path. It didn’t make him mad just because not everyone involved was on the same page. “Get dressed before I change my mind.”

This time, she didn’t argue. She scrambled past him and into the closet. He followed and pulled on a pair of jeans and T-shirt. Not his preferred clothing, but something inconspicuous. Whether or not Rose had the same thought, she ended up in dark jeans that hugged her like a second skin and a tank top that was simple enough but put her generous breasts on full display. A knitted cardigan did nothing to cover her up properly. She caught him staring. “What?”

“You’re going to cause a traffic accident dressed like that.”

She glanced down at her body and then up, amusement lighting up her eyes. “Dante, this is hardly cutting-edge fashion.”

It looked it on her, but he doubted he’d be happy taking her in public in anything she chose. Not while she still refused a future together. It was just one trip, though. It would be fine. Still, he’d take precautions.

Dante led her to the front door and pulled out the hood he’d stuffed in his pocket. Rose took one look at it and snarled. “Absolutely not.”

“You want to leave, you put on the hood.”

She cursed long and hard, violence seeping into every word of Russian. Finally, she switched back to English. “So help me, but if you put me in the trunk again, I will—”

“Kill me. Yes, we’ve gone over this.”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you put me in the trunk again, I will never forgive you.”

It was such a softer threat, but it hit harder than any of her others to date. It wasn’t that Dante didn’t believe Rose capable of murder. He knew for a fact she was. She would have killed him three months ago if his reflexes were any slower.

But this? By saying this, she’d all but stated that he hadn’t crossed the line of unforgivable actions to date. If he wanted Rose, he had to stay on the correct side of that line. He considered the hood in his hand. What did it really matter if Rose knew where they were? The door with the code was the main thing keeping her in place. Not to mention allowing her to see just how isolated they were might be beneficial.

With a shrug, he tossed the hood onto the couch. “Turn around.”

Rose considered him for a long moment but finally obeyed. He kept one eye on her and tapped in the code really quick. The door gave with a quiet snick sound. “Come on.” He held it open for her. “The quicker we get this done, the better.”

Chapter 15

Rose understood why Dante relented so easily within ten steps of the cabin. She’d expected nature to be quiet. It certainly looked peaceful when she sat on the couch in the early morning with her coffee and looked out over the view. Now that she was outside, all she could hear were strange sounds. The buzzing of insects. The trees shifting in the breeze. Something moving deeper in the woods just out of sight.

She inched closer to Dante. Not intentionally, of course, but this strange world was not her world. She didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t even know where they were. Did they have mountain lions in this area? When Sasha was younger, she’d gone through a big-cats phase, and as a result, Rose knew far more that was comfortable about one of the few big cats native to North America than she’d like. Sasha, sweet girl that she was, had several books about how to survive a cougar attack, and they were all filled with stories about hikers or joggers or campers being stalked and attacked by the cats.

“What are you doing?”

Rose stopped searching the branches above them, instantly feeling foolish. “Are there cougars around here?”

Dante gave her a long look. “Sometimes. They don’t usually come too close to the cabin, though.”

She expected him to laugh at her. In his place, she would have. Silly city girl, afraid of the woods. He just offered his hand. She shouldn’t take it. He’d look into the gesture and see it as a sign of her capitulating to his theoretical future.

Rose slipped her hand into his.

He led the way down a dirt path that was barely wide enough for him to walk, let alone both of them side by side. She told herself not to be foolish, but she couldn’t help continuing her search of the trees… At least until the space opened and she saw their destination. “I knew there was a car around here.”

“Si. Traveling by plane is quick but not convenient at times.”

“I suppose.” She followed him to the garage. It looked like a smaller version of the cabin, albeit with fewer windows. Rustic, but in the unique way only the ridiculously wealthy seemed to accomplish. She reluctantly turned away when Dante keyed in the code, straining her ears as he typed it in. Six digits instead of eight, but they weren’t tonal like so many devices, so she had no idea what the number combination was. Oh well. It wouldn’t matter soon enough.

She had absolutely no intention of letting him bring her back to the cabin.

Rose wished she could say the sex was all part of the plan, down to needing Plan B, but she’d be lying if she claimed that. She hadn’t been thinking about anything in that moment but getting as close to Dante as possible, with nothing between them, and how hot we shouldn’t was. The potential consequences only slapped her in the face after the high from her orgasm wore off.

There were times over the past three days when she forgot she was supposed to be looking for a way to escape.

He opened the door, stirring her from her thoughts, and stepped aside for her to precede him into the dark garage. Rose stepped in perhaps a little too willingly, but having all that nature at her back gave her the heebie-jeebies.

Inside, there was a spotless black SUV and nothing else. She eyed the empty walls. It made logical sense not to have a bunch of shit in here, especially when so many tools and outdoors type equipment could be used as weapons, but… “This really is a sex cabin, isn’t it?”

Dante pulled open the passenger door and looked at her expectantly. It wasn’t until she’d climbed in, and he went around to the driver’s seat that he answered. “How you feel about the trees? We’re of the same mind. I prefer the city to the country.”

She relaxed back into her seat and watched the garage door rise. “Then why have a cabin in the woods?”

“Sometimes the quiet is nice.”

She supposed she could see that, even if the tunnel of green they started down made her skin crawl. Getting to the cabin would be the stuff of nightmares, but she supposed the actual cabin itself was nice enough. “We don’t have anything like this back home. My grandparents on my mother’s side have a house out in Connecticut, but I’ve only been there a few times. My mother isn’t close to them, and my father hates them.” She frowned. “Though it’s definitely mutual.”

“Your grandparents are cut from the same cloth my uncle is.”

“Da.” No use denying it. There was a reason they weren’t overly close with any of her aunts and uncles, and it had to do with how her grandfather attempted to move them around like chess pieces on a board only he had control of. Once her uncle Aiden took over the family business, things shifted, but no one forgot the bad old days. They didn’t seem overly inclined to forgive, either. She couldn’t blame them for that. “Not my parents though.”

“Aren’t they?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Dante, they’re not. And if you quote the marriage to Romeo at me, I might throw myself from the moving vehicle. All leaders make sacrifices. I’m not special in that regard. I went into the choice with eyes wide open.”

“Would you have had to make the same choice if you were a man?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s a valid fucking point, and you know it.” He picked up speed until they were bouncing along the dirt road leading from the cabin.

She’d planned on taking careful note of their surroundings in the event that the worst-case scenario played out and she ended up back here, but Rose quickly got bored of the unrelenting green. The dirt road turned to gravel and then pavement, and still the green persisted.

She hoped things were going okay back home. It had only been…four days? Less than a week for things to change so drastically. Except they hadn’t changed at all. Dante was still the enemy. She would still marry Romeo when she finally got back to New York. They would still have…

“Why would Jovan Romanov’s people be joining in the search for you? Is that something your father would have coordinated?”

Dante’s question jarred her out of her dark thoughts. “What?” She twisted to face him. “Why are you asking about Jovan Romanov?” He was another cousin of her father’s, though more distantly, and now the patriarch of the greater Romanov family. They all paid allegiance back to Russia, but those ties had spun out over the last generation. Something Jovan wasn’t too pleased about.

“Answer the question.”

A sliver of alarm went through her. She spent a moment debating continuing to push for answers but finally said, “No, Papa wouldn’t have called them in, even if it was an emergency. Especially not in this situation involving me. My father has done several things over the years that pisses them off, including naming me his heir instead of marrying me off to one of his men so they can lead the family. They would be only too happy to use this as proof I’m not suitable.” Her parents had always supported her as heir and trained her as such from the time she was a teenager. Jovan was like Dante’s uncle, like Rose’s grandparents, in how he viewed anyone who wasn’t a man. As in, they weren’t suitable to lead.

Dante drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “They are not allies, then.”

“They’re family.”

He shot her a look. “You’re not naive enough to think blood ties will protect you if they decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

No, she wasn’t. She’d played a very careful game for her entire adult life. Entertaining her “cousins” from Russia when they came to visit with obvious agendas while never agreeing to anything. She’d gotten very good at dancing on the knife-edge between too strong to fuck with versus being too much a pain in the ass to be allowed to live. Her family in Russia was always hungry for more. More power, more territory, more money. It aggravated them to no end that her father eventually settled into something resembling peace with the scattering of other families in NYC and the surrounding area instead of crushing them beneath his heel in a bloody war.

Somehow, in all of this, she hadn’t considered that they’d get involved.

Foolish. So fucking foolish.

She let her head drop back against the seat. “Damn it, I didn’t expect them to move so fast.” It wouldn’t matter that she’d made the right call—and she was certain she’d made the right call—the day of the wedding by getting in that trunk. It wouldn’t even matter if she’d made no calls at all and Dante had overpowered her. She’d disappeared with the enemy, put their alliance with the Capparellis in jeopardy, and had been missing for days. Of course, they would use that opportunity to their advantage. “Fuck.”

The trees opened up the tiniest bit as they came to a stop sign at what appeared to be a highway. Dante looked at her. “Are they a danger to you?”

“Da.” No reason to lie. She’d be gone before it mattered, and even if she didn’t manage to escape, he’d figure it out eventually. “They aren’t my biggest fans, and if in the course of this whole clusterfuck, I somehow died and Sasha became the next heir, they’d have a better chance of convincing my parents to marry her off to someone of their choosing.” Sasha wasn’t built like Rose and their other sisters. She was softer. A brutal husband would break something fragile inside her that she might never recover from. Anya and Lorelei would make sure he never had a chance to do it again, but that wouldn’t save Sasha after the fact.

“Rose.” From the way he said her name, it wasn’t the first time. Dante waited patiently for her to drag herself out of her dark thoughts and look at him. “They won’t touch you.”

“I wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for you.” Not the truth, not really. If not this, then something else would have happened to give them the excuse to go after her. She just thought she had more time, more space to build up the walls to keep herself and the people she cared about safe.

“They won’t touch you,” he repeated.

She had no business feeling warmth from his assertion. Even if the fairy tale in this man’s head came to reality, even if he was as formidable as his reputation, in the end, Dante was only one man. He couldn’t protect her from the full might of the Russian Romanovs if they decided to take advantage of her being outside the relative safety of New York. “Do they know where we are?”

She half expected him to brush off her question like he had in the past. Instead, Dante pulled onto the highway. “Si. Not our specific location, but they’re in the area.”

Her breath whooshed out. “Dante, you have to let me go. If your uncle wants me dead and they’re sniffing around… You’re outmanned and outgunned. Eventually they’ll find you—find us—and then it’s all over. They’ll kill both of us and make it look like it’s your fault and…” And then the people she loved would pay the price.

What was the fucking point of all this power if all it did was paint a target on her forehead? Her parents claimed it served to keep their family safe, but if she were a civilian, she wouldn’t have to deal with shit like this. Rose didn’t spend much time worrying about what her life would have been like if she were born into a different family because, ultimately, it didn’t matter. Her circumstances were what they were, and she mostly loved her life.

Just not when it seemed like everyone and their dog was gunning for her.

Dante didn’t look at her, but his body had gone tense at her statement. “All the more reason for you to agree to my terms.”

“That’s not possible and you know it. You are one man, Dante. No matter how good you are, they’re better. Marrying you would just make it worse.”

“That’s not a no.”

She opened her mouth to tell him no but couldn’t make her lips form the word. Dante was not for her. He couldn’t be for her. It didn’t matter that she was starting to believe him about their connection being real even before they were honest with each other. It didn’t matter if he fucked like a dream and seemed to enjoy her at her most monstrous. It didn’t matter that he’d most likely burn the entire world down for her if she set that as her condition for marrying him.

It didn’t matter what she wanted.

She closed her eyes. Okay, fine, she wanted Dante. She even liked the way they circled each other, neither willing to pull their punches. She liked that he was the perfect combination of Jackson Smith and Dante Verducci. She liked how they fit in so many ways.

But he wasn’t for her. He couldn’t be. Even if they could get the situation figured out with the Russian Romanovs, her family would never accept Dante. The Capparellis would never accept her marrying a Verducci, either. The implications for following what her heart may or may not want…

No. The cost was too high.

“It’s a no, Dante,” she said softly. “It has to be.”

He didn’t say anything the rest of the drive. It wasn’t an angry silence, though. His body language remained loose and easy and his expression contemplative. It made her want to push him, to poke and poke and poke until he snapped. To ask him if he was actually that easily dissuaded, even though the act of asking would give away far more than she could afford. This was what she had to want, after all. Him to back off.

She watched the road signs but couldn’t dredge up any happiness when she realized they were in California. What did it matter now? This had to end, and end immediately.

The town Dante drove them to was barely large enough to have a Walgreens. He parked at the back of the lot and turned to look at her. “I need you to stay in here.”

“But—”

“Rose.” Rose. Not Rosa. Not amata. That, more than anything, made her stop protesting and look at him. He held her gaze. “I will go and get the meds for you. The Russians were spotted in the next town over, so they might not be here, but we can’t risk it.” He paused. “If you run, I can’t protect you.”

“I wouldn’t need protection if you hadn’t interfered!”

“Si.” He shrugged. “But it happened and now we deal with the consequences. There is nothing stopping them from gunning you down in the street if you try to run. Stay in the car. Please.”

He could be lying. He probably was. If that were the case, why bring her at all? He could have kept her locked up in the cabin and returned with the medication. Yes, it would mean a few more hours before she could get the dose, but ultimately it wasn’t Dante paying the price of their recklessness.

She nodded slowly. “I’ll stay.” Even Rose couldn’t tell if she was lying or not.

For a moment, it seemed like Dante might change his mind, but he turned off the car. “Lock up behind me.” Then he was gone, striding toward the building.

She watched him disappear through the doors. A not-insignificant part of her wanted to stay right there in the car. She could tell herself she had no choice because she needed Plan B, and then she’d have no choice but to go back to the cabin, and then she’d have no choice to keep fucking Dante and hiding from all the problems waiting for her.

That was the thing, though.

She did have a choice.

She couldn’t let her selfishness hurt any of the people she cared about. It still took more determination than she could have anticipated to pull the door handle and step out of the SUV. Late-afternoon heat made her cardigan almost unnecessary, and she looked around, temporarily disorientated. Rose’s gaze landed on an old Latina lady pushing her cart, and she hurried over. “Ma’am? Do you have a phone I could use?”

The woman flinched but then peered at Rose. “I haven’t seen you around here before. You in trouble?”

No reason to pussyfoot around it. “Yes.”

“Don’t steal my phone.” She dug it out of a truly massive purse and handed it over.

Rose stared at it for a long moment. It was one of those flip phones that had been designed to look like the old ones from the mid-2000s. She held her breath and dialed her sister. Not Lorelei this time. She needed Anya.

“Romanov here,” her sister barked into the phone.

“Anya?”

Instantly, her sister went on high alert. “Rose? Is that you? Where are you?”

“I’m at a Walgreens in…” She held the phone away from her face and looked at the old woman, who was watching her suspiciously. “Ma’am, what town is this?”

“Cedarville.”

The name meant nothing to her, but when she repeated it to her sister, Anya cursed. “They were just through there yesterday. Hold on.” She didn’t bother to hold the phone away as she started issuing commands. “Call Uncle Jude. She’s in Cedarville.” A few seconds later, she came back on the line. “Can you stay where you are for fifteen minutes or so? Grady is on his way.”

She had a dozen questions about what their extended family was doing in the area, but it would have to wait. “No, I can’t stay here that long, and I have to give this phone back.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Her voice went muffled. “Give me your fucking phone, Vasily. No, I don’t have time to argue. Give it here.” A pause. “Okay, if you go to the street the Walgreens is on and head north, there’s a bunch of shops and shit. Go to secondhand motherhood store or whatever the fuck Moms and Me is and hide there. Grady will be there in ten.”

“Okay.” She ignored the guilt threatening to swallow her whole and hung up. This was the only way. Honestly, this was preferable, because if she set things to right, maybe she could divert her family from a quest for vengeance and calling for Dante’s head. He wouldn’t thank her for it, but it was better than the alternative.

“Thanks for letting me borrow the phone.” She looked up and froze. The old woman wasn’t looking at Rose. She was looking at something over Rose’s left shoulder, her expression terrified. Fuck, Dante must be back already. She handed the phone back and started to turn. “I can explain…”

Rose trailed off.

It wasn’t Dante standing behind her, violence written across his face. It was a man she’d only seen in pictures, one of the people her father had warned her about as active threats to her existence. He was a lean, dark-haired guy with a remarkably normal face considering his reputation. Just handsome enough to be utterly forgettable, at least until a person looked into his empty gray eyes. She numbly passed the phone back to the old woman and stood there as she rushed into her car and practically left half her tires on the pavement peeling out of the parking spot.

I thought he’d be taller. She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep the words inside.

“You know who I am.” His thick Russian accent should have felt familiar, but she couldn’t see past the threat.

“Da,” she answered in Russian. “I know who you are. The Mad Wolf.” The one their Russian extended family sent when the situation had gotten messy and they wanted to make an example of the offending parties.

Casimir Romanov.

Chapter 16

Dante made it in and out of the store in record time, the small box with the Plan B tucked safely into his jacket. The few people in the aisles had all seemed remarkably normal, but that didn’t stop him from keeping his head on a swivel. His odds of finding Rose still sitting in the SUV were about fifty-fifty. She seemed to take the stakes seriously, and she would want these damn pills, but she was also resourceful and loyal to her family. She might put herself at risk to try to escape.

He didn’t run back to the vehicle, but he moved quickly, scanning the parking lot all the while. Dante was a few cars away when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Too fast to be a normal shopper. He pivoted and headed in that direction, following the instincts that had kept him alive more than once.

Then he heard the quiet Russian cursing and started to run.

He veered around a box truck in time to see a dark-haired white man grab Rose by the throat and slam her into the ground. Dante crossed the space between them in the blink of an eye, moving so fast, he barely registered the decision to take the first step before he had his gun pressed to the stranger’s temple. “Release my woman. Now.”

“Ah, the Italian.” The accent confirmed what Dante already expected. This was one of the Russian Romanovs. The man didn’t look at him. He just kept gripping Rose’s throat like he wanted nothing more than to crush her. He could do it. He could easily do it before Dante pulled the trigger.

True fear licked through Dante, but he forced any trace of it out of his voice. “Take your hand off her neck. Next time I ask, it won’t be so nicely.”

The Russian seemed to consider that for a moment and slowly eased his hands off Rose. He didn’t move from where he had her pinned to the ground. She coughed, the sound raspy and painful. The sensitive skin of her neck was bright red; it would bruise later. But she was alive, and that was all that mattered. Rose didn’t rub her throat. She just glared at both of them. “Dante Verducci, meet Casimir Romanov.”

Fury washed through him, overwhelming his fear. He’d heard of the Mad Wolf. Who hadn’t? He was the fucking boogeyman of the underworld, the man mafia parents scared their children with before putting them to bed. He was the reason Lorenzo had never tried to fully remove Kirill Romanov and his family from LA. The Russian Romanovs might be distant cousins, but they took that sort of thing seriously. The last family that tried had been wiped off the face of the earth.

The fact he was here, going after Rose instead of Dante, was a bad sign. It meant her suspicions were correct and Jovan’s people were only too happy to use this as an excuse to remove the thorn in their side and teach Dmitri Romanov a lesson in one blow. “I don’t give a fuck who he is. I’m going to take great joy in skinning him alive before I crush his throat like he tried to do to you.”

Casimir gave a dry chuckle that sounded like someone had already done damage to his vocal cords. “You will try.” He shrugged, apparently unconcerned about the threat of Dante blowing his brains out. “You will fail.”

Dante didn’t dare look away, even to check to see if they were drawing attention. “Up.”

Casimir rose slowly. He was a few inches shorter than Dante and built leaner. Much like Dante himself, he was dressed in a nondescript pair of jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Nothing to mark him out of place the way an expensive suit would. Nothing to draw attention to him at all… Except for the fact he was attempting to murder Rose in the parking lot of a fucking Walgreens.

If Dante shot him here, there would be questions. The Russians didn’t give a fuck about that because they would catch the next flight out of California and never return to this area. They didn’t need local connections to smooth things over or money to grease palms. Dante did. More than that, he only had connections in LA. They wouldn’t extend to this little town in Northern California.

They had to make this go away, but they needed to do it quietly. He spared Rose a glance as she struggled to her feet. “Your head?”

She touched it gingerly and winced. “I’m fine.”

She sure as fuck wasn’t fine, but he wouldn’t be able to tell the extent of the damage until they were alone and he could check her over. “The SUV, Rose. Now.”

“Okay.” She nodded slowly and started limping in that direction. Fucking limping.

Dante grabbed Casimir by his throat and drove him back several steps to slam him against a nearby box van. “You have bad luck, friend. You should have stayed in Russia, but now you’re destined for an unmarked grave on foreign soil.”

The man’s lips curled, just a little, and something feral lit up his gray eyes. “Nyet, I do not think so, Dante Verducci.” His gaze flicked over Dante’s shoulder and even though he damn well knew better, he twisted to look.

A black sedan flew down the main street, going far too fast, and slammed on their brakes in the middle of the street. He caught sight of a large dark-haired white man behind the wheel, and then Casimir punched him in the stomach and Dante had to focus on the danger closest to him. The Russian moved too fucking quickly, slamming into him and bearing them both to the ground. The gun went flying beneath a nearby car. Damn it.

Dante tried to flip them, but for being a relatively small guy, Casimir managed to keep him pinned. And then he started punching, methodically wailing on Dante’s face and head. Dante got his arms up as best he could, but his head rang. The stranger in the car had better be one of Rose’s many relatives because if it was another Russian Romanov, they were in deep shit.

He was in deep shit regardless.

Between one punch and the next…the blows stopped. He slowly lowered his arms to see Rose standing behind Casimir, looking like an avenging angel with her dark hair whipping around her face and a gun in her hands. Where the fuck had she found that?

She snarled something in Russian, and Casimir responded in kind. Through it all, his expression never changed from the vaguely bored one he’d worn since Dante first saw him. Another man stepped up next to Rose, a gun held down by his side. He, Dante recognized from his files on Rose’s legion of family members. Grady MacNamara. Her cousin by way of her mother’s sister, Sloan.

Casimir rose slowly and stepped off Dante. He glanced down, eyes holding no emotion whatsoever, before turning his attention back to Rose. “A delay. This changes nothing.”

“Mozhet byt, mozhet I net.” She shrugged. “You won’t be around to worry about it either way.”

“Rose.” Grady’s deep voice cut through the tension. “You can’t shoot him.”

“He’s a threat.”

“We are in the middle of a public parking lot with no fewer than three cameras catching at least part of this. You shoot him, things get messy.”

Her finger hovered on the trigger, and Casimir tensed, the tiniest reaction. Finally, she cursed and took a step back. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Dante held his breath as the Russian considered her, him, and then Grady. Finally, he shrugged. “Now or later. Makes no difference to me. This only ends one way.” He turned and walked away without another word.

Dante started to get up, but Rose turned the gun on him. “Nyet. Stay where you are.”

The betrayal seared through him with more violence than the actual bullets she shot him with three months ago. She’d told him over and over again that she wanted him dead. Of course, the last four days wouldn’t change anything, not for her.

But she didn’t shoot him.

She passed the gun to her cousin and took the zip tie he produced from somewhere. Grady kept his gun carefully pointed near Dante’s head as Rose knelt next to him. She grabbed his hands and fastened the zip tie around them in a practiced move.

“Rosa—”

She leaned down, nearly close enough to kiss. “This is your get-out-of-jail-free card, Dante. Stay in California. Find someone else to fuck around with. Get married and have those babies you want so desperately. If you come after me again, I will kill you.” She lowered her voice. “I won’t have a choice.”

He might laugh if he weren’t so fucking frustrated. “You’re it for me, amata. There’s no one else.”

“Find someone else,” she repeated. She rose to her feet, only slightly unsteady. “If you’re smart, you’ll find your way out of the zip tie before the Mad Wolf circles back. Goodbye, Dante.” She turned and walked away.

Grady glanced at her retreating back and then crouched next to Dante. “You have five families between Boston and New York howling for your blood because of that stunt you pulled with Dmitri and Keira’s little princess. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen to my cousin.” He pushed back to his feet. “If you step foot in New York or Boston, you’re dead.”

He was turned away and strode to Rose, tossing an arm around her shoulder as he guided her to the sedan he’d arrived in. Within seconds, they were gone.

Dante took a slow inhale and then jerked his wrists apart, snapping the zip tie. He climbed to his feet, head spinning a little, stopped to dig his gun out from beneath the car it’d landed under, and made his way back to his SUV. Casimir Romanov was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well.

As he pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street, a single cop car careened into the parking lot, lights flashing. Typical. Too little, too late. He kept himself chained to the speed limit as he headed south, leaving the town behind. After fifteen minutes, when no one pursued, he dialed Matteo.

“Si?”

“I’m headed back, but I’m not staying long.”

His cousin snorted. “So, things either just blew up in your face, or you’re bringing back a bride. Cute.”

“Something like that.” He touched his jacket. The Plan B box was still there. Fuck. In the chaos, he hadn’t thought to hand it over. Not that Rose would have taken it while she was zip tying his fucking wrists together. Despite himself, he smiled a little. Three months ago, she would have shot him in the parking lot and to hell with the consequences. The fact that she didn’t, the fact she warned him away from New York?

Yes, his woman had feelings for him.

She should know better than to wave a red flag in front of a bull while telling it not to charge. Likely, she meant every word, but Dante had never been closer to what he wanted. He wouldn’t be deterred now.

“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.

Some large families managed to coexist, like the O’Malleys. Six adult siblings, and while some had married into other families like Mama did, there was no jockeying for power or backstabbing. No one really wanted to lead except Uncle Aiden, and everyone had their place and were mostly happy in it. Such wasn’t the case with the Romanovs.

Rose’s great-great grandparents had five sons, and from the way the story went, it quickly became apparent that if they all stayed in Russia would mean only one of them would survive. So, they kept the oldest son and sent the other four to the US with the instructions to carve out a piece of territory for themselves. Kind of a fucked-up American dream, but they managed it. Their descendants got along well enough because of the distance involved, but all continued to answer to the branch of the family who remained in Russia.

In her grandfather’s generation, they mostly kept their hands off their American cousins. They had their own shit they were dealing with at the time, and the freedom benefited the Romanovs on this side of the world. Then Vladimir Romanov died, and his son Jovan took over.

And things changed.

Jovan and his two brothers weren’t like the Russian Romanovs of the past. They functioned as a unit. Jovan in charge of everything. Artem, the muscle, who enjoyed getting his hands dirty. Jacek, the money man, who’d turned their finances into something truly outstanding—or at least that was the rumor. Even their now-adult children—like Casimir—kept in line. They might be Romanovs, but they were not allies to their American cousins.

Ever since Jovan took over, he’d been looking for an excuse to bring the American Romanovs back into the fold…and dip his hands into the deep pockets of money Papa and the others had earned over the years.

An excuse she’d unwittingly given them when Dante kidnapped her. Though, if it hadn’t been this, it would have been something else. They were too old-school to appreciate her as heir. No matter what else was true, eventually they would have found a reason to come calling, weapons in hand.

Which meant she needed the alliance with the Capparellis and anyone else she could find. Rose’s family and territory was strong, but she didn’t know if it was strong enough to hold against her Russian family. No, that was a lie. She knew for a fact they weren’t strong enough. Not alone.

All this added up to any future with Dante being entirely out of the question. And not simply because her family would shoot him on sight.

Neither Grady nor Jude would answer her questions, and she eventually fell into a light sleep, only to jar awake as the plane touched down. Jude shut his laptop and shoved it into a bag. “Your parents are waiting.”

Rose didn’t expect the sudden nerves tightening her shoulders. She’d done everything she could to escape, hadn’t she? She’d put the family first and ensured no one was hurt during her kidnapping…

She didn’t have an excuse for sleeping with Dante, though.

Grady rose with her, so tall, he had to duck a little to avoid beaming his head on the roof of the plane. His gaze landed on her throat. “I’m glad you’re okay, Rose.”

That was just like Grady. He was kind of a dick and abrupt to the point of rudeness, but when push came to shove, he would show up every time. She managed a smile. “Thanks for coming for me.”

“Yeah. Always.”

Rose wanted to stop in the bathroom to put herself together, but it wouldn’t matter. She’d seen the bruise darkening her throat, could hear evidence of it in the rasp of her voice. Frankly, she looked like shit, and no amount of sprucing would fix it. She took a deep breath that burned and followed her cousin and uncle out of the door and down the steps to where her parents waited.

Mama and Papa stood next to a black town car, appearing as perfectly put together as always…at least until she took a second look. The lines around Papa’s eyes and mouth were deeper than normal, and there were faint smudges beneath Mama’s eyes that not even her expertly applied makeup could effectively cover.

Papa raked his gaze over her like he hadn’t quite believed she was on the plane. Relief flickered through his eyes for a moment before he masked it and nodded to Jude. “Spasibo, Jude.”

“There were complications. Rose will fill you in with the details.” He jerked his chin at Grady. “Let’s go.”

“See you around.” He gave her parents a respectful nod and followed his father to the truck parked a short distance away. Within seconds, they were inside and roaring away from the plane. No doubt headed back to Boston and away from all this trouble. She couldn’t fault them for it. They chose to stay as far from the sketchy shit as possible, and even if they hadn’t… Ultimately her Boston family had their own battles to fight. If the situation became truly desperate, she could call on them for help, but it would look weak to do it now. She couldn’t afford to look weak. Not with so many unfriendly eyes on her.

“Roza.” Mama dragged Rose into her arms and held her tightly, and then Papa wrapped his arms around both of them. Rose closed her eyes and let her parents comfort her for several long seconds. In that moment, she was a child again and there were no battles her parents couldn’t win to keep her safe.

She wasn’t a child any longer, though. She was an adult. More, she was heir. She had to fight her own battles instead of hiding behind her parents and letting them do it for her. That started now, with the rough conversation they needed to have. She counted slowly to ten…and then did it again. It wasn’t enough, would never be enough, but she still managed to step back. “We need to talk.”

“Da.” Papa looked around as if expecting an attack from any angle, and then ushered them into the car. She caught sight of Vasily behind the wheel and they spared her a brief smile of relief. Papa settled into the seat across from her, and Mama took the seat next to her. His gaze lingered on her throat. “Now, tell us.”

“Casimir Romanov tried to kill me.”

Papa startled. “What?”

“Da. This?” She touched her throat. “His handiwork.”

Her parents exchanged a look, and Mama hissed out a breath. “I told you so.”

“That’s not—”

“No, Dima. I told you they wouldn’t just lie back and allow Rose to stand on her own. They still see gender as a defining characteristic.”

Rose sighed. “I’m sitting right here.”

“Keira, moya koroleva.” He reached over and covered her mother’s hand with one of his. “They won’t risk such pointed attacks now that she’s back in our territory.”

“You can’t be sure.” She flicked her hand at Rose. “Look at our daughter. They never should have dared lay a hand on her.”

“Still sitting right here.” Most of the time, her parents were good about including her in any and all major conversations about the territory and the family business, but sometimes they’d do this kind of bullshit. They got so caught up in each other that they seemed to forget there was anyone else in the room. Namely, their very uncomfortable eldest daughter.

“Da.” He squeezed her mother’s hand and sat back, finally focusing on Rose. “We need the full story, Roza.”

Apparently they wouldn’t be answering her questions until they had her side of things. So be it. She honestly couldn’t expect much different, not with so much hanging in the balance. Rose strove for calm and relayed the events since her kidnapping in as much detail as she could remember. She left out sleeping with Dante. It wasn’t her parent’s business. More importantly, she didn’t have good reason for doing it, no matter what she’d told herself in the moment.

She’d wanted him—had missed him—so she spun the fiction necessary to justify taking him. She still wanted Dante if she were perfectly honest with herself. It didn’t matter. She’d told him the truth when she said they weren’t meant for each other. The barriers were too high, too strong. The best she could hope for was that he took her at her word and stayed out of New York. At least that way, he’d stay alive.

When she finished, her parents were silent for a long moment. Finally, Mama said, “You did the best you could, given the circumstances and the knowledge you had at the time.”

It wasn’t a condemnation, but it sure as fuck felt like one. “Was I supposed to risk someone getting hurt when I had a chance to find a solution for myself?”

“No.” Mama sighed. “But your disappearing…complicated things.”

Once again, frustration choked her more effectively than the Mad Wolf ever could. “I’ll make nice with Romeo and beg a little to assuage his pride. It will be enough. Even with a little pie on his face, he’s too smart to go to war over something like this. There’s a way around it, even if it means we shift the marriage contract to be more in his favor.” A concession she didn’t like, but with the situation spinning so out of control? Better to bend than to break.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, her father wouldn’t quite meet her gaze. “A marriage with you and Romeo Capparelli is no longer on the table.”

“Excuse me?” She extracted her hand from Mama’s and sat up straight. “What do you mean it’s no longer on the table? It’s understandable that Romeo’s pissed, but even he has to see that it’s in everyone’s best interest if this alliance remains intact. War is only profitable for our enemies. It will bleed our respective families dry.”

Papa sighed. “Romeo is aware of that.”

She looked between her parents. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Apparently someone suggested that Lorelei should smooth things over as best she could.” Mama’s sigh mirrored Papa’s. “She married Romeo.”

“What?” Rose shot forward so fast, her seat belt tried to strangle her. “The fuck she did. No. Absolutely not. Not even Lorelei would be that reckless.” But even as she said it, she heard the strange note in her sister’s voice. “Why would she offer herself up as a sacrificial lamb in my place?” Had Dante known about this? Even as the thought crossed her mind, she discarded it. His jealousy whenever she mentioned Romeo was too pointed. If he’d known her sister had stepped into her place, he would have taunted her with the information. She was sure of it.

“It’s done.” Papa sounded so tired. “The contract was adjusted, and the vows were spoken. She moved in with him the day after the wedding—the day after you were taken.”

The world took a sickening spin around Rose. It was so vivid, she looked out the window to ensure they were still right side up. The outcome she’d wanted to avoid was reality. Her baby sister, married to Romeo Capparelli. Sacrificing everything to take Rose’s place, when Rose should have been the one to make those sacrifices. She was the heir. The one to shoulder the majority of the burdens that came with being a Romanov. Her sisters were supposed to have more freedom. They were supposed to marry for love if they decided to marry at all.

They weren’t supposed to share her fate. “It should have been me.”

“There’s no room for ‘should have been.’” Mama crossed her legs and twisted to look at Rose. “It’s done. The alliance is secured, and not a moment too soon, if Jovan’s turned his attention this way.”

Casimir might have been the one to show up, but he wouldn’t have done it without his uncle’s direction. Only one person held the Mad Wolf’s leash, and they all knew it.

“I’d hoped to avoid this.” Papa scrubbed his hand over his face.

“It’s time to close ranks,” Mama said flatly. “Ivan and the others will want to know about this…if they don’t already.”

They started discussing which of their American cousins were most likely to stand against Jovan’s people and which were in danger of folding, but Rose’s mind kept skipping no matter how she tried to focus. Lorelei had married Romeo in her place. The alliance was secured without Rose’s participation. Talk about bittersweet. She hadn’t been particularly eager to marry Romeo, but she sure as fuck wasn’t willing to put one of her sisters on the chopping block as a result.

It should have been Rose.

Chapter 18

“I want her dead.”

Dante watched his uncle pace back and forth across the office. The old man looked like shit. He’d obviously been at the bottle again, and his skin was flushed and bloated from the effects. His bloodshot eyes roamed around the room, barely touching on Dante before he was off again.

For his part, Dante didn’t move. Didn’t fidget. Didn’t say a single fucking word. He just sat there and stared as Lorenzo ranted. The longer he stared, the more intense the rant became. Lorenzo would never admit it, but he was scared shitless of his nephew, and Dante used it to his advantage whenever the opportunity presented itself.

His uncle turned and slammed his hands on the desk. “Fucking say something, you ungrateful little shit.”

“Let me get this straight.” Dante leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “You want me to go back to New York City and kill Lorelei Romanov.”

“She’s not a Romanov anymore. She’s a Capparelli.”

He highly doubted she’d taken her new husband’s last name, but he chose not to comment on it. “Semantics.”

“It has to look like Romeo did it. Drive a wedge between that fucking alliance, and do it properly this time. No months of bullshit and fucking around. We need to send a clear message. Do this for me, nephew. You owe this family everything, and we ask so little of you. Take care of it.”

Funny how his uncle liked to remind him of what he owed the family while also skipping right over the fact that he wouldn’t have needed saving if Lorenzo had done right by Dante’s mother. He owed it to Matteo to let his cousin be the one to finally put the old man out of his misery. Doing anything else would potentially undermine his cousin’s bid for power. Matteo had never fucked Dante over, so the least he could do was practice a little patience waiting for his uncle’s murder.

Easy enough when Lorenzo was giving him exactly what he wanted. He pushed to his feet. “Sure. I’ll be on the next flight out to New York.”

Lorenzo flinched and tried to cover it up with bluster. “Good. Go.”

Dante went. He was still chewing on all the new information when he walked into his bedroom and found his cousin sitting on his bed. No one looking at the two of them would mistake them for anything other than family. They shared the trademark Verducci blond hair and strong jawline, though life hadn’t run rampant over their bodies the way it had over Lorenzo’s.

Dante shut the door and leaned against it. “Move up your timetable. He’s a liability.”

“Is he the liability?” Matteo stood with a frown. “You’ve got your head spun all the way around with this bi—this chick. The old man’s nuts, but he’s not wrong that a Romanov-Capparelli alliance is bad news.”

Dante shrugged. The Romanov-Capparelli alliance was a nonissue from where he stood. If anything, Rose’s little sister marrying that bastard Romeo was a benefit. It cleared the path for him. “We have bigger problems.”

Matteo tried to stare him down but finally gave up and dropped back onto the bed. “The Russian Romanovs.”

“Si. You think they’re going to start fucking with the families stateside without trying to smash us beneath their boot? You know better.”

“Even if I did, that just proves that I need you here instead of in New York.”

“Matteo.” He waited for his cousin to look over. “I’m going—I was always going—and it’s not to kill my woman’s little sister.”

“When you talk like that, it sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

He gave Matteo a long look. “Make your move and do it soon. If he fucks up my chances with Rose, I’ll raze this fucking territory to the ground.”

His cousin lifted his hands and dropped them. “She’s just a woman, cugino. We’re family.”

Family. The very idea was laughable. Family hadn’t saved his mother from being tossed out the moment she stepped out of line. It hadn’t stopped Lorenzo from threatening Dante with the same fate so many times, the threat finally lost its teeth. Family wasn’t worth the blood spilled to claim it.

His cousin wasn’t the same, though. He owned Matteo at least some explanation even if he didn’t fully understand his connection with Rose. Dante’s life would be significantly easier if he’d chosen literally any other person to pursue. It didn’t matter. He didn’t want to pursue anyone but her. She felt the connection, too. She wouldn’t have melted beneath his touch if she didn’t. She definitely would have killed him in that parking lot. “She’s mine.” As complicated and as simple as that.

“Fuck, Dante, but you don’t make things easy, do you?”

“Never.” He dropped onto the bed next to Matteo. “I know what they say about me.”

“Who?”

“Everyone.” He shrugged. “I’m a liability, and you know it. There’s a reason Lorenzo up and decided we needed to fuck with the Capparellis after decades of mostly ignoring each other. There’s a reason he sent me after the New York Romanovs in particular. It’s not because he wanted me to succeed.”

Matteo clenched his jaw. “You don’t know that.”

Yeah, he actually did. Dante wasn’t one to take an order without question, especially from his uncle. He’d done his own research before agreeing to the task and decided to go for his own reasons. “A junkyard dog is all well and good, until it bites the hand that feeds it. Lorenzo afraid of me.” Dante glanced at his cousin. “Our men are afraid of me.”

“Yeah, because you’re nuts and violent and don’t care about the hierarchy.”

His cousin joked, but they both knew it was truth. “Exactly.” He nodded. “That’s not going to change. Take care of the old man and cut me loose.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” He cared about his cousin, but he didn’t really give a fuck about the petty rivalries and ground wars they constantly engaged in. They were a side effect of the things Dante actually wanted to do, but he didn’t have that core-deep belief in them that Matteo did. If he hadn’t met Rose, maybe he’d have been content to coast along playing the part of his cousin’s junkyard dog the same way he’d played the part for his uncle. It was too late to go back. He had met her, had recognized her on a fundamental level that went beyond knowing.

Rose was his, and he’d do whatever it took to ensure she chose him.

Matteo stared at him a long time and finally sighed. “You won’t be dissuaded.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know if she wants you. If she doesn’t kill you, her family will.”

“Può essere.” He shrugged. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“You’re out of your damn mind.”

“She says the same thing.”

Matteo shook his head. “I can move my timeline up, but it won’t be immediate. I need a week to get things into place. You can’t do anything to raise suspicion in the meantime.”

“Fine.” He wouldn’t do anything to tip the old man off to what his cousin was up to. “I was heading to New York anyway.” It would mean playing the part, at least in sight, but that could work in his favor. Plenty had changed in the two weeks since he took Rose. He needed to get the lay of the land before acting.

“Good. I’ll keep you in the loop.” Matteo stood and walked out of the room without looking back.

Only then did Dante let himself fully process the information he’d had circling his brain since Lorenzo gave the order to kill Lorelei Romanov. Lorelei Romanov, who’d married Romeo Capparelli. Not Rose. Her little sister had stepped in to secure the alliance, and it freed Rose up in the process.

The way to her was hardly clear, not with their history and her family and her fucking pride, but her sister’s misfortune had been a boon to Dante. He didn’t have to dance around the Capparellis or kill Romeo, because he’d effectively been removed from the playing field.

“I’m coming for you, amata.”

“I can’t believe you let this happen.”

Anya and Sasha sat on Rose’s bed, watching her pace back and forth. Sasha twisted her fingers in her lap, looking sick to her stomach. “We didn’t have a choice. We didn’t even know what she planned until they ushered us back into the church, and then it was too late. Interrupting it would have caused a scene.”

“More of a scene than when you disappeared.” Anya crossed one long leg over the other. Today she wore tailored cigarette pants and a white button-up shirt she’d left half undone. “It’s too late, anyway. There’s nothing to be done. Lorelei chose this. I tried to get her out the next day, but she wouldn’t come with me.”

“What?” Sasha twisted to face her. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“It wasn’t relevant.” Anya examined her fingernails. “She chose. We have to respect that.”

Rose understood that on a rational level, but she couldn’t let it go. “I have to see her.”

“Nyet.” Anya shook her head. “Romeo was very clear that he didn’t want to see your face for a while. Let him cool off. Otherwise, you’re putting Lorelei and the alliance in danger because you feel guilty that you’re relieved she took your place. Knock it off.”

Rose flinched. She hated it when Anya did this, used cold logic to dive right into the heart of things Rose would rather not say. Her sister was right. She did feel relieved that she wouldn’t be required to marry Romeo, sleep with him, and eventually have his kids. She would have done her duty without complaint, but now that it’d been taken off her plate?

Guilt wrapped around her throat harsher than Casimir’s hands had. “I should have been here.”

“Eh. You aren’t the only one shouldering that burden. No one expected Dante Verducci to be that arrogant. We should have put more security on you or not left you alone.” Her dark eyes glinted dangerously. “If I’d been there, things would have gone differently, and that’s on me.”

If Anya had been there, someone would have ended up dead. Rose fought down a shiver. “I don’t give a fuck about letting Romeo cool off. He will not keep me from my sister.”

“Rose.” Sasha twisted her fingers harder, hard enough that it looked actually painful. “If Casimir Romanov is after you, you have bigger things to worry about than Lorelei.”

“Da, she can handle Romeo. She might be the baby, but she’s a badass.” Anya ran her hand over her long blond hair. “The Mad Wolf is a problem, but the bigger problem is what his presence indicates.”

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know.” In the days since she’d been home, she’d sat through meeting after meeting with her parents and their people as they reached out to allies and battened down the hatches. Not noticeably, of course. Someone looking in from the outside wouldn’t have seen anything at all worth noting. Appearing as if they were preparing for war automatically put them in a position of weakness, which Papa would never allow. It made her head hurt, even if she understood his reasoning. Normally, the political movements and chess match they played with their enemies gave her an energy boost like none other.

Not now.

Not with Lorelei taking her place and their Russian extended family circling. Someone could die. Someone would die.

She had to make sure it wasn’t someone she cared about. “If Casimir is coming after me, it means they’ve decided against Papa. Or, more accurately, against me.”

“He’s not going to make you marry one of them, is he?” Sasha’s complexion went a bit green. “I know that’s what they wanted a few years ago, but I thought Papa decided against it.”

“We decided against it.” Rose would eventually be the head of this family, and that couldn’t happen if Jovan sent one of his people to try and wrest control from her via marriage. Every day would be a battle, and it exhausted her to think about. At least with Romeo, they had an understanding. She wouldn’t fuck with his family, and he wouldn’t fuck with theirs. They’d even negotiated heirs. Eldest to rule the Capparelli family. Second eldest to rule the Romanovs. It would have created lasting peace while also protecting their respective power.

No use worrying about what should have been.

She had to deal with facts.

“Papa took his stand. He won’t change his mind.” She wouldn’t let him.

“Oh,” Sasha said faintly. “Good. But what happens now?”

“Now we wait.” She hated the inaction, but it was the only course. Casimir had showed his hand by attacking her. She didn’t understand why he’d gone about it that way. If they wanted to remove Rose, a sniper would have been more effective. Most likely it was a crime of opportunity. He’d seen her and gone for it. “Papa sent a demand for an explanation, but we can’t do much until they respond.” One way or another, either with an actual explanation or with an attack.

There was no way the Mad Wolf was wandering around Northern California without orders, but it was always possible they’d try to play it that way. She’d asked Papa what would happen if they claimed innocence, and he got a pinched look on his face that worried her. Rose cleared her throat. “Until then, we act like normal.”

“Normal.” Anya raised her brows. “Normally, we go out for drinks on Friday nights.”

“Da.”

Sasha pressed her hand to her mouth. “You can’t honestly expect us to leave the house. What if something happens?”

“It’ll be fine.” Anya waved that away. “We’ll go to Red’s. It’s one of ours, and we own every single person in that place. If anyone so much as looks at us sideways, they’re dead.”

Rose wished she had her sister’s confidence, but her reality had been rocked and then rocked again in the past week. She couldn’t take anything for granted. Still, her father had requested this, and she agreed with his reasoning. “Anya’s right. It’s nearly as safe as being home.”

Sasha didn’t look convinced, but she finally nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“We don’t have a choice.” The conflict with Jovan’s people had already started, and the fucked-up thing was that perception played into the power structure. If the first thing Rose did upon being attacked was hide away, no one would believe she could be a strong leader. She had to keep up appearances, to move as if she were untouchable even though she still wore the marks from Casimir’s hands on her throat. They’d faded to a sickening green and yellow, and it made her ill to look at them in the mirror.

He’d almost killed her.

If Dante hadn’t shown up when he did…

But no, she couldn’t afford to think about Dante. Not now. Not ever. If he had a drop of sense, he’d stay in LA, where it was relatively safe. And she’d stay here in NYC, engaged in the beginnings of a battle that could mean the death of everyone she cared about. They might have the home court advantage, but Jovan had the people and the kind of experience that would give even an experienced combatant pause. If they went to war, Rose’s family might win, but it wouldn’t be without great loss.

Distractions could get the people she loved killed, and Dante was nothing but a giant distraction. She’d never see him again, and that was a good thing.

Maybe one day she’d even believe it.

Chapter 19

Rose looked good. Really fucking good. She wore a golden dress that hugged her curves, leaving little to the imagination for all that it covered her from neck to wrists and down to mid-thigh. The subtle textured pattern caught the light with every move, and Dante clenched his hands with the need to run his palms over it.

Not yet.

He finished his drink, paid for it, and moved down the back hall toward the bathrooms. The bar owners obviously knew their clientele, and so there were four of them, each single occupancy. An extravagant addition, and it suited his purposes perfectly.

Dante considered his options, eyed the camera perched above the back door, and ducked into the alcove tucked next to the bathrooms. It had a phone, and he picked it up, holding it to his ear as he leaned back a bit so he could see the hall.

He heard Rose’s laugh trail in his direction and ducked back into the alcove. A few seconds later, heels clipped in her familiar stride as she moved down the hall. He counted her steps, and when she turned into the bathroom, he replaced the phone in the cradle and followed her in, pushing her ahead of him and shutting and locking the door behind them in a smooth move.

“What the fuck?”

He pressed his hand over her mouth. “Shhh, amata. We need to have a conversation.”

Her hazel eye went wide, but she let him back her against the counter and pin her there with his body. Being pressed against her again went straight to his head. Mine. He knew better than to say it aloud, especially in this moment. “I have one question for you.”

She blinked slowly and finally nodded against his palm. He cautiously lowered his hand, ready to cover her mouth again if she started screaming. She didn’t. Dante exhaled slowly. “Did you get the Plan B?”

She froze. “What?”

“A simple question, Rosa. I didn’t get it to you last week. Did you acquire it?”

Her gaze flew to his face. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Answer the question.”

She shook her head slowly. “No. I didn’t get it. I…forgot.”

He stared down at her, hope and something dark rising in him. “Liar.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Liar,” he repeated. “You knew the risk. You could have insisted your cousin stop along the way to the airport. A small stop once you were out of the immediate area. Simple. Easy. You chose not to.”

She parted her lips, painted fuck-me red, and then hesitated. “It would be incredibly reckless if I put myself at risk for being pregnant with your child because of some strange emotional blip. It would make me a fool.”

“No.” He leaned down and pressed his face to her neck, inhaling harshly. “No, not a fool. You feel it, too. You want this, too.”

“Dante, we can’t. The stakes are too high.”

He slid his hands over her hips and down to the hem of her dress. “Tell me no, amata. Tell me you never want to see me again, and I’ll be gone.” He didn’t know if he was lying or not. He couldn’t fucking tell. He wanted Rose so much, he couldn’t think properly, but part of wanting her was needing her to be right there with him. “Just say the word.”

“Dante… D’yavol.” She shivered. “This is a terrible idea.”

“That won’t work. Not this time. Use your words. Tell me yes or tell me no, Rosa.”

She pressed her lips together and shot a glance at the door. “We don’t have a future. We can’t.”

He didn’t repeat himself. He just waited, counting the beats of their racing hearts that seemed to sync up the longer they stood pressed together. He was so fucking hard, he could barely string two thoughts together, but he wanted her to choose this.

To choose him.

She ran her hands up his chest slowly. “It will never work.” She toyed with the buttons at the front of his shirt. “My family wants you dead. Your family wants me dead. We need every weapon we can come up with right now, and I can’t risk alienating our alliances because I want you.” She reversed her movement, reaching down to hook her fingers in the waistband of his pants. “I shouldn’t care about you at all. You’re my enemy.”

“Everything else is true enough.” He held perfectly still, refusing to let her incite him into closing the last little bit of distance between them. If she chose this, she chose this. There would be no pretending he pushed the issue. “But not that last. I’m not your enemy, amata.”

Her brows drew together. “If you’re not my enemy, Dante Verducci, then what are you?”

“Yours.”

She made a pained sound. “You can’t just say shit like that. It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, Rosa, it is. I’m yours and you’re mine. Tell me you don’t feel it.”

She shook her head helplessly. “We can’t.”

Dante made himself take a step back even though every part of him demanded he stay as close to her as possible. “So be it.”

He took another step back when she moved. Rose grabbed the band of his slacks and jerked him to her. Her expression went fierce. “I want you. It can’t work, but I don’t care. I…care about you.”

Not a full capitulation but enough. Or maybe Dante was simply looking for an excuse to take her mouth. To push her back and then lift her onto the counter and step between her bare thighs. “It will work.”

“We can’t be sure.” But she didn’t stop. And neither did he. He let her undo the front of his pants and reach in to wrap her hand around his cock. Rose gave him a rough stroke. “Now, d’yavol. I need you now.”

He should hold out, but it was never going to happen. Not when his woman needed him. Dante shoved up her dress to press two fingers into her. Rose gasped and glanced at the door. He followed her gaze as he worked her, readying her. “Someone will come looking for you shortly.”

“I don’t care.”

“Bene.”

She stroked him roughly. “I started birth control again. You don’t need to use a condom.” She guided him to her entrance.

He hesitated, searching her face. “Be sure, amata. We do this, there’s no going back.” He lightly covered her mouth with his hand when she started to speak. “You already said it’s impossible. I don’t give a fuck about impossible.”

“Don’t stop,” she whispered against his palm.

“I won’t.” He held her gaze as he pushed into her. There was no slow easing into it, not with the overwhelming desire to mark her as his, to get as close to her as possible. It had been a little over a week since he was inside her last, but it felt like a lifetime. Dante’s hips met Rose’s, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “Mine.”

“Stop that. I belong to myself.” She tangled her fingers in his hair and tilted her face up for a kiss. “Make me come, d’yavol. Make me feel good.”

“Always.” He jerked her forward, until she was barely perched on the edge of the counter, and started fucking her in short, slow thrusts. The angle was perfect. She started shaking almost immediately. It was too good. He had to slow down farther, to focus on getting her there first, or he was going to blow. Dante buried his face in her throat, driving her pleasure higher even as he fought his own. The only sound in the bathroom was their ragged breathing and the soft sounds of fucking.

A knock on the door.

He froze, and Rose’s hands tightened in his hair. She dragged in a rough inhale. “Da?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there a long time.”

Her sister. He wasn’t sure which one. Dante started to lean back, but she ran her hands down his back and grabbed his ass, driving him deeper inside. “It’s like that?” he murmured in her ear. “So be it.”

“I’m fine.” She didn’t sound fine, though. She sounded like she was seconds from coming apart.

Apparently her sister wasn’t convinced. “Rose. What’s going on?”

“Get out of here, Sasha!” She snarled something in Russian that made his balls tighten. His woman never sounded sexier than when she gave commands. There was a beat of silence, and then her sister said something that sounded shocked, but her footsteps moved away from the door a moment later. Rose dug her nails into Dante’s ass through his pants. “Hurry. We don’t have time.”

He guided her to lean back on her hands on the sink and ran his hands up her legs, spreading them wide. “Look at us, amata.” His cock was soaked with her need, and watching her body spread to take him nearly had him losing control right then and there. He gritted his teeth and kept going. “Look how sweetly you take me.”

“Dante. God, you feel so good.” She gasped and clenched around him. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He fought himself to maintain the rhythm she needed even as she shook and whimpered. When she came, it was with a strangled cry that went straight to his cock. Only then did Dante drive deep, chasing his own pleasure. “One day. When you’re mine in truth.” He wrapped her hair around a fist and kissed her roughly. “I’m going to come inside you, Rosa. Fill you up with me.”

“Do it.” She moaned.

“No.” At the last moment he pulled out of her and jacked himself roughly. He came hard, the orgasm only strengthened by watching his speed spray her pussy and upper thighs. Dante kept fucking coming, until his knees actually buckled. He caught himself on the counter and wiped his cock on her thigh. “When you’re mine, Rosa. Only. Then.”

She looked down at the mess he’d made and shivered. “Are you going to tell me to leave it like this?”

That was exactly what he wanted to do, but he knew better. She wanted something to push back against. He wouldn’t give it to her. Not in this moment. “You’re a big girl. You can make your own decisions.”

Rose searched his face. “You really mean it, don’t you? You don’t care about the optics or what the consequences will be. You just want me.”

He pulled out his wallet to grab the spare hotel key he’d requested and pressed it into her hand. “Room 402.”

She stared. “You can’t be serious. All I’d have to do with that information is give it to my parents and you’d be dead before dawn.”

“Si.” Dante shrugged. “But you’re not going to, and we both know it.” He glanced at the door. It wouldn’t be long before her sister returned, likely with muscle this time. “Come to me tonight.”

She drew in a breath and glanced down at her bare pussy. “I could be pregnant, you know. It’s even likely. I missed those three days, and even if I restarted birth control, it might not make a difference.”

The thought made his chest ache, but as much as he wanted that with this woman eventually, now wasn’t the time for it. He could recognize that, even if part of him wanted to howl at the moon at the thought. “And if you are?”

She pressed her lips together. “I can’t keep it, Dante. Not like this. Not with everything going on and a war on the horizon. My family needs me.”

He framed her face with his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. “It’s your body, amata. I want my ring on your finger and my child in your belly, but on our timeline. When it’s safe.”

“What if it’s never safe?” The words came out in a whisper. It was the first time he’d heard her sound afraid, and the ache in his chest ramped up several notches.

Dante grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser and carefully cleaned her up. He didn’t speak until he’d helped her off the counter and tugged her dress back into place. “It will be safe. Eventually. It will just take time.”

“I’m not so sure.” She looked up at him, her hazel eyes seeming overlarge in her face. “I don’t know how this ends. There are no guarantees. The last time my family had a conflict like this, my uncle died. And they didn’t even make it to an actual war that time. It was just a skirmish.”

There were no guarantees in their world. The benefits were extreme, but so was the potential price to be paid. “We’ll get through it. There will be peace.” It just would take time… and potentially eliminating an entire branch of the Romanov family.

“Dante…” She trailed off as someone knocked on the door. Except it was more like pounding. Rose sighed. “That’s Anya. I have to go.”

He wasn’t ready to let her go, but Dante knew better than to say as much. She’d shown him vulnerability, and the timing wasn’t right. Not yet. He nodded at the hotel key in her hand. “Come to me tonight.”

She curled her fingers around the card and pressed it to her chest. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Rosa.” She had to come to him. Because otherwise he’d be scaling the walls of the Romanov home, and Dante wasn’t too keen on being shot. Again.

She gave a small little smile. “Okay, d’yavol. I’ll come to you tonight.”

Chapter 20

Rose barely made it out of the restaurant without her sisters rioting, but only because she promised to tell them the truth once they got in the car. Anya drove, and Sasha hovered in the back seat, once again twisting her fingers fiercely enough to make Rose wince.

Anya stopped at a light and looked at her. “Talk fast. If I don’t like what I hear, I’m going straight to Mama.”

She flinched. “Really, Anya. Pulling out our mother as a threat?” It was something she hadn’t done since they were little kids.

“Papa would hunt down that man you were just having bathroom sex with and kill him, so yes, Mama.” The light turned green, and she pressed too hard on the gas, throwing Rose and Sasha back against their seats. “You know what’s at stake. You were just fucking kidnapped, for god’s sake. I realize the security at Red’s is good, but this is reckless, even for you. Especially for you.”

She wasn’t wrong, but Rose couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She didn’t know what it said about her that she’d just had sex with the man who’d kidnapped her literally last week, but there was no denying she’d chosen it.

No denying she would sneak out of her house later tonight and meet him at his hotel room.

She couldn’t tell her sisters the truth. Not yet. They’d tell Mama and Papa, and she’d be under lock and key, heir or no. “It was an ex.”

“Which one.”

“Rick.”

Anya shot her an incredulous look. “You’re shitting me.”

“Not at all,” Rose lied. “You know how I am. I needed to work out some tension, and I saw him, and the opportunity presented itself.” She reached back and covered her sister’s hands with hers “Stop, Sasha. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Stop?” Her sister gave a choked laugh that was almost a sob. “Rose, what are you doing? Sneaking off to the bathroom to have sex with your ex? Someone could have snatched you. The Mad Wolf is after you. He wouldn’t even bother to snatch you. He’d just shoot you dead.”

She fought down a shiver at the memory of his hands around her throat, his cold gray eyes staring down at her. “I’m well aware of the risks.”

“Are you? Because you’ve been acting weird ever since you got home.”

Rose twisted in her seat. “Are you serious right now? Two weeks ago, I was supposed to marry Romeo Capparelli, only to be abducted at my own wedding and held hostage for days on end.” Saying it felt weirdly like a betrayal. For all that Dante had kidnapped her, it wasn’t as if he’d hurt her. Or forced her. Or done anything except keep her in the cabin and give her entirely too many orgasms.

He wanted to marry her.

She hadn’t believed him before.

She believed him now.

“We’re worried about you,” Anya said quietly as she turned onto their block, heading for the garage entrance. “And now Lorelei is married to Romeo instead and…”

She still couldn’t believe it. “I need to talk to her.”

“Good luck. He’s whisked her away to the other side of town, and she’s dodging our calls.” Anya glared out the windshield. “Probably because she knows I’m going to kick her ass the first opportunity I get.”

“Probably.” Rose barely waited for Anya to park in the row of SUVs in the garage before she climbed out of the passenger seat and headed for the door. She loved her family, but she needed space from them right now to think. For once, her sisters took a hint and didn’t follow her up to her room. She took a long shower that did nothing to calm her down and started pacing back and forth across her room.

She had lost her mind. It was the only explanation for her actions in the past couple hours. No, she couldn’t even say that. Her actions since learning the man she was dating was Dante Verducci had been off.

Had she pulled her shot?

Up until this moment, she would have sworn under oath that she didn’t. That she’d truly intended to kill him for the position he put her in. That their months of dating, of falling for him, hadn’t softened her heart to the man she’d discovered was the enemy.

Now? Now she wasn’t so sure. She was a fucking crack shot, especially at that range. Even with him moving quickly, she should have anticipated it and auto-corrected. She certainly had in the past.

She couldn’t talk to her mother about this. No matter how Mama and Papa’s relationship started, they wouldn’t be understanding. There was too much on the line for Rose to do something as reckless as fall for Dante Verducci. They would only see the cost. It didn’t matter that Papa terrorized Mama’s family for years before their marriage. It was all ancient history now.

She stopped short. No, Mama wouldn’t understand… But maybe Aunt Carrigan would. Rose grabbed her phone and dialed before she could second-guess herself. Of all her many aunts and uncles, she was closest to Carrigan. From a young age, she’d admired her gorgeous aunt and how effortlessly she shared power with her husband…and how unwilling she was to bend to others’ will.

Carrigan answered on the second ring. “I hear you’re right at the center of a brewing war. How very Helen of Troy of you.”

Rose perched on the edge of her bed and gave a wan smile. “I don’t know about that comparison. Seems like Helen got a raw deal with that war.”

“And you’re certainly not one to let others do your fighting.” She paused. “How are you, Rose? I hope that father of yours isn’t pulling some bullshit again. The shock at the wedding was enough for a few decades.”

The wedding where Lorelei walked down the aisle instead of Rose. Guilt swamped her again, threatening to choke her. “I need some advice.”

“Then you’ve called the right aunt. I have it in spades.” Cloth rustled through the line, and Rose could perfectly picture her aunt settling back in one of the grand chairs in her office and giving the phone her full attention. “Tell me.”

Rose took a long breath. Once she admitted this aloud, there was no going back. The thought almost made her laugh. There’d been no going back from the moment she slept with Dante after knowing his true identity. “When Uncle James kidnapped you… How did you get past that? How did the family get past that?” Because obviously they did. It was one of the O’Malley family legends at this point, how he’d hauled her out of the club and taken her home to be a sacrificial lamb for his vengeful father. How he let her escape, and months later they fell in love and fucked up my father’s plans to marry her.

Carrigan was quiet for so long, Rose found herself holding her breath. Finally, she said, “It’s a hard road, Rose. I wouldn’t choose it for you.”

Rose stared at her wall, her chest aching. She should hang up now before she said something she couldn’t take back, but the knowledge bubbled up inside her, needing an outlet. “It’s too late.”

“Ah.” Carrigan sighed, a wealth of experience in that single sound. “Sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants, no matter the consequences. I had a little more freedom than you do because I wasn’t heir.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Back then, women couldn’t be heirs. Even if I were born first, I would have been passed over for Aiden. It made me so angry, but it was a blessing in its way because a pawn is a pawn, regardless of what board you’re playing on. Even though it pissed off…well, your father…I secured an alliance with the Hallorans and stopped that brewing war.” Another bitter laugh. “There were always wars brewing in those days.”

“There’s one brewing right now.”

“That’s what I hear.” She sounded tired. “I can’t tell you what to do, love. I made my choice and decided the risk was worth the reward. No one can make that call except you.”

Rose swallowed hard. “If my family can’t get past this, they might remove me as heir.”

“Yes.” Carrigan didn’t soften the word at all. “That is one of the risks. You have to be the one to decide if you can bear the cost.”

If Rose were passed over, that would put Sasha squarely in the crosshairs. Her sweet, nervous sister would falter, which would mean the entire family would falter. But cutting Dante loose meant another political marriage in Rose’s future, this time likely to someone even more questionable than Romeo Capparelli. She’d long ago resigned herself to a marriage for power instead of for love, but…

Surely she didn’t love Dante Verducci.

The very idea was ludicrous. They’d had several months of lying to each other while they dated, a shooting, a kidnapping, and a week’s worth of fucking. That equation didn’t add up to a happily ever after. It only resulted in a mess.

Even if not everything about their time dating had been a lie….and part of her recognized him on a soul-deep level.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

“Look, Rose, I’ll be frank.”

That dragged a laugh from her. “Since when are you not frank?”

“Hush.” But she could hear the smile in her aunt’s voice. “You’re a smart girl and you’ve more than earned your place as heir. Right now, you’re reeling from an influx of a lot of shifting components. Take a step back, put that strategic mind of yours to work, and find a way through.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Another laugh. “Honey, you didn’t call me for answers. You called me to confirm what you’d already decided. Yes, you can come back from falling in love with the enemy, and yes, eventually you can bring your family around to seeing things your way with the right set of circumstances. It’s not impossible, it’s just not the easiest path.”

She released a slow exhale. Not impossible. Those weren’t good odds, but they were better than expected. “Thanks, Aunt Carrigan.”

“Don’t thank me, love. I’ve been waiting thirty-odd years for Dmitri Romanov to get his karma. It’s going to be fun watching him squirm.”

“Carrigan!”

“All was forgiven long ago.” Her voice went evil. “But karma is karma, Rose. He’s going to get his fair share with you girls. I almost feel bad for him.” She laughed. “Now, be sure to call and update me when you make things official. Bye, now.”

She wasn’t sure what to think of Carrigan assuming this was a guaranteed thing. Rose hadn’t even decided yet. Not really. Ultimately, her feelings had no bearing on the situation. She might have strong emotions brewing for him, but if he remained an active threat to her family, there was no way she could justify sacrificing everything for him. There had to be another way.

She still needed to talk to Dante. Really talk to him. No threats, no seduction and lies clouding the issue. Just the simple truth between them. Until they had that, there was no point in projecting because they had no future.

No one came looking for her as the night grew late and the sounds around the house went quiet. Both her parents were night owls, but even they had limits. When she slipped from her room and padded down the hallway to the stairs, everything was dark and silent.

At least until she made it to the main floor and caught sight of a large form standing against the door the garage. Rose jumped and barely managed to keep a sound of surprise internal. “What are you doing here?”

Vasily raised their eyebrows. “I heard what happened when you went out to drinks.”

Of course they had. Even though Anya had driven, she would have passed on the info to Vasily since they were Rose’s security detail. Damn her sister. Rose straightened and lifted her chin. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is if you’re leaving the house.” They didn’t move. Rose might be more than capable of moving them if push came to shove, but that meant potentially hurting them, and she’d never do that. Vasily crossed their arms over their chest. “I’m not your keeper, Rose. I’m no Romanov.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Vasily might be on the payroll, but they were her friend. She’d just never had to pull rank before…or had them do it for her.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do.” They stared down at her. “But if you’re leaving this house, you’re not doing it alone.”

Something went tight and thick in her chest. “You can’t report this to my parents, Vasily. If you can’t promise me to keep silent until I come clean, then you’re staying behind.”

They shook their head. “The only reason they found out before you did about Dante Verducci was because Alexei saw the file and reported it. I would have come to you first and you know it. We’ve already talked about this.”

It was the truth. She couldn’t hold a grudge. Vasily was hers but most of the muscle answered to her parents first and her second. She couldn’t be angry about that fact because it was fact. When she took over this branch of the Romanov family, she’d need that unquestioning loyalty, not to have her people allying themselves with her sisters or something.

Rose rubbed her temples. “Let’s go.”

Vasily turned and opened the door, holding it open for her. They took the same SUV Anya had driven earlier, and she climbed up into the passenger seat instead of taking the back. Rose rattled off the address for the hotel where Dante was staying, and Vasily didn’t so much as raise their eyebrows as they headed in that direction. Good. Because if they questioned her at this point, she might lose it.

At this point, she was hanging on to reason by her fingernails. It didn’t make sense to do this. She was likely walking right into a trap and being kidnapped a second time. But every time reason and logic tried to take hold, she thought about the look in Dante’s eyes as he’d said, We’ll get through it. There will be peace. It hadn’t been soft—she wasn’t sure if that man was capable of being soft—but it truly had felt like he meant it, like he was comforting her in his own way.

Maybe she was a fool to crave comfort from this man. Anyone else in her life would call her such, and she couldn’t really argue with them. Nothing about this was logical.

She wasn’t familiar with the hotel Vasily parked near, but that didn’t mean anything. There were thousands of hotels in the city, and usually when they had visitors they didn’t want in the house, they picked between two nearby.

Vasily turned to look at her. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell them to stay here, but that was too reckless even for her. “Let’s go.”

The pair crossed the street and walked into the hotel lobby. It was luxurious in that generic way so many hotels had. She watched Vasily clock the area and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they could tell her where all the emergency exits were off that single sweep.

Nerves kicked in as she and Vasily stepped into the elevator and took it up. Was she really doing this? Really considering risking it all for this man? Tonight would be the turning point, one way or another. The only way to find out where she landed was to talk to Dante. Really talk to him.

Rose took a deep breath and opened the door to his room.

Chapter 21

For all his confidence in the moment, Dante honestly hadn’t been 100 percent sure Rose would show up. Nothing about that woman was a sure thing, and if he could appreciate that fact, it still made for a frustrating back-and-forth at times. He was in the middle of pacing the living room of the suite for the twentieth time when the door opened, and Rose walked in.

She’d changed out of the gold dress and now wore a pair of jeans and a sweater. It was the way she used to dress when they were pretending to be other people. Even knowing how he felt about her, he wasn’t prepared for the sheer longing that went through him. He wanted that casual intimacy with her again, the soft times to go with the hard edges he craved. He had appreciated that about his time with her as Jackson Smith. He wanted it again.

His gaze landed on the faded bruises around her throat. “I’ll kill the Mad Wolf for touching you.”

Rose closed the door and leaned against it. “You’re going to have to get in line, because the next time I see him, I’m shooting him.”

“Amata, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re not nearly as good a shot as you like to think.”

She smiled slightly. “Haven’t you figured it out, d’yavol? I pulled my shot.”

He’d wondered, but there were too many factors in place to determine shit. He grinned. “Lucky me. Less lucky Casimir Romanov.”

“Da.” She pushed off the door. “Vasily is in the hallway. If something happens to them because of you, I’ll skin you alive.”

Jealousy flared, even as he relished her threat. It likely said something fucked up about him that he liked it when violent words came out of that pretty mouth, but it was also the least fucked up thing about Dante. When one had as much blood on their hands as he did, violence stopped being something to flinch away from. It simply was. “Have you ever done it, amata?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Done what?”

“Any of the things you threaten me with. The more creative killings.”

Rose held his gaze for a moment and then looked away. “There’s a price for power. You know that, even if you’re not the heir to the Verducci family.” She pushed off the door and started for him. “I’ve never actually skinned someone, though.”

“I’ll be your first. I truly am a lucky man.”

Her lips pulled up but fell before he could fully appreciate her smile. “This will never work.”

He expected this. He’d even prepared for it. “And yet here you are. You came even with all the reasonable shit in your head telling you it’s a bad idea. Why?”

“You know why.”

He hoped. Fuck, Dante wasn’t one for hope, but he hoped when it came to Rose. He didn’t move other than to rotate slowly as she meandered around the room, nerves in every line of her body. “Tell me anyway.”

Rose stopped with her back to him. A fine tremor worked through her shoulders, and it took everything Dante had not to go to her there and now. He couldn’t. They needed to have a fucking conversation and the only way that would happen was if they stayed on the other side of the room from each other. If he touched her, they’d be ripping each other’s clothes off in short order. It didn’t sound so bad from where he stood, but Dante had the long game in mind. The more time passed before they settled into something official, the harder it would be to convince her he wanted more than her body.

“You are a Verducci.” She spoke softly. “You come from a family on the other side of the country who’s also the enemy of the Capparelli family, who are our allies here. If I were to choose you, I would be fighting both my family and my allies to do it, which would be challenging enough to navigate, but we have a bigger threat looming. We can’t afford to be divided right now, not with Jovan and his people circling. They already have a target painted on my chest, Dante. If—”

“You have done everything right.”

She stopped short and turned to face him. “What?”

“You have done everything right,” he repeated slowly. “You have been the model heir. Your people love you. Even the Capparellis were willing to work with you instead of starting a conflict when the shit happened three months ago. They’re still willing to work with you, because Romeo married your sister instead of setting something on fire when the wedding didn’t go as planned.”

She made a face. “I’m pretty sure he all but jumped at the opportunity, honestly. He wanted Lorelei initially. I’m the one who offered myself up instead.” She sighed. “For all the good it did. He got what he wanted in the end.”

Dante had done his research on all the Romanov women during the time he spent in New York. Lorelei might be the youngest, but he had a feeling she could hold her own against Romeo. Anya would have been an even better choice, but she was a lesbian, and with her knife skills and cold ruthlessness, no one was interested in forcing her to do anything. If he misjudged Lorelei and being with Romeo damaged her, he’d cut the motherfucker down. No one hurt Rose, not even by proxy. Not any longer. “The fact remains, if you were a man, this conflict with Jovan wouldn’t be happening.”

She blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

“You know it. I know it. They’ve had a problem with you from the moment your father decided not to marry you off to one of your cousins.”

“Dante.” Rose rolled her eyes. “They’re like third cousin five times removed or something at this point. We’re hardly related. You make it sound incestuous.”

“My point is that your father chose to let you stand on your own instead of bringing in another Romanov to marry you and appease Jovan. This was always going to happen. They were just waiting for a moment to remove you and send a message.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “That moment came when you kidnapped me.”

“That moment came when you decided to marry an Italian.”

She jerked. “What? You can’t know that.”

Dante shrugged. “The Mad Wolf booked his plane ticket for the day before your wedding. It’s just coincidence that I got to you first.” Matteo had passed on that little tidbit before Dante got on the plane back here. It was surprisingly but also confirmed what he’d suspected from his and Rose’s many conversations. Jovan was never going to let her live, not without someone forcing him.

Her mouth worked, but no words emerged. Rose stumbled back a step and sank onto the couch. “You’re lying.”

“I have no reason to lie, and it’s easily verifiable.”

She shook her head slowly as if trying to clear a ringing in her ears. “Did you know? On the day of the wedding, did you know?”

If he said he did, if he told her that he’d taken her to save her life, it would rewrite everything that happened between them in a soft light. He’d be the hero who swept in and saved her from certain death. He’d also be a fucking liar.

“No.” No lies between them. No masks. Never again. “You’re mine, Rose, and I wasn’t about to let you marry that motherfucker.”

Her smile was faint but present. “That’s weirdly reassuring. I’d hate to have been wrong about you.”

“I’m not a good man. No one in this life is. If they tell you that, they’re lying, and that I won’t do. We’re starting fresh, and that means only honesty between us, no matter how fucked up.” He finally gave in to the pull of her presence and crossed to sit on the couch next to her. “I will kill the Mad Wolf for you.”

“I’m afraid that will only make things worse.” She slouched and laid her head on his shoulder. Dante’s heart gave a strange little lurch, and he froze. Rose continued, oblivious. “We have to make ourselves too strong to fuck with.”

“You’re the heir to one of the most stable dynasties in the States. How do you make that stronger?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed, settling in more firmly against him. “I just don’t fucking know.”

There was one last element of business to take care of before he could ask her the question that had lingered since she didn’t shoot him in the parking lot last week. Dante leaned back against the couch, taking Rose with him, and wrapped an arm around her. “My father ordered me to kill your youngest sister.”

“What?” She started to jump up, but he tightened his grip on her, holding her in place. Rose elbowed him in the stomach. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Is this why I’m here?”

“Use your fucking head.”

She stopped fighting, though only so she could twist and glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“What strategic value would I have in telling you if that was what I planned?” When she just glared harder, he resisted the urge to give her a shake. “Think, amata. If I’m the enemy you’ve painted me, I have no fucking reason to tell you. Not a single one.”

She pressed her lips together and finally cursed. “Okay, that makes sense, but why drop it on me like this?” She shook her head again, harder this time. “I still don’t understand why your uncle sent you here to begin with. There’s no strategic value in you fucking with me and my family. It’s not like the Verduccis are going to make the jump to expanding territory over here, and we don’t even deal in the same areas of influence.”

Irritation rose, but not at her. They were all logical questions, but logic and his uncle weren’t on the same page. They were hardly in the same universe. “He wanted to kill two birds with one stone.”

“I understand holding a grudge, but it’s still strange that he chose to target us instead of the Capparellis.”

Dante stroked his fingers over her bare shoulder, part of him thrilled that she allowed the casual touch. She even leaned into it. “You weren’t supposed to find out who I was. I’m sure he had some kind of plan for once things had progressed past a certain point.” Likely to order Dante to kill Rose and frame the Capparellis. “I would have died tragically in the fallout, of course. I’m good, but not even I can take on both Romanovs and Capparellis without support.”

“He’s not going to be happy you’re disobeying orders,” she finally said. “Or you still being alive when this is all finished.”

He shrugged. “He’s going to have bigger things to worry about before too long.” When she shot him a curious look, he allowed himself a smile. “My cousin is an ambitious man. War with the Romanovs isn’t profitable. It’s better to pursue peace in the face of combined interests.”

“You’re still a Verducci, Dante. Neither of us can change that.” She searched his face. “If I choose you, I put my sister in danger. I put my family in danger.”

“Rose. Amata.” He caught her chin and tilted her face up. “Do you trust me?”

“I shouldn’t. I have absolutely no reason to.”

She wasn’t wrong and yet… “That’s not an answer.”

Rose closed her eyes. “Yes. Damn you to hell, but yes, I trust you.”

“Marry me.”

She gave a choked laugh. “Just like that?”

“Marry me and I’ll fix this.”

At that, she opened her eyes and gave him an arch look. “You mean you’ll fix the thing you broke to begin with?” She pulled away and he released her. Rose smoothed her hair back. “And don’t come at me with that shit about the threat from Jovan. That might have existed outside of you, but the fault for escalating things with the Capperellis, and the marriage to Romeo lands squarely at your feet.”

“Si.” He shrugged. “I make no apologies for it. Not when I got you in the bargain.”

“Dante, you don’t have me.”

That was about enough of that. “Don’t I?” He caught her around her waist and lifted her to straddle him. She immediately scooted forward to close the last little bit of distance between them, pressing against his hardening cock. “You’re here, at my mercy. I could do anything I want to you.”

“Mmm.” Rose ran her hands up his chest. “It’s my security standing outside the door right. One word and Vasily will break down the door.” She leaned down and ran her mouth along his throat. “But I don’t need Vasily to fight my battles. I can take care of you myself.”

Dante caught her hips. Fuck, she was sexy like this, playful and sweet. Then again, he had yet to see a side of Rose that wasn’t sexy. “Very well, amata. You have me at your mercy. What will you do with me?”

“I have a few ideas.” She brushed a light, teasing kiss to his lips, retreating before he could deepen it. Rose moved, slipping off his lap and down to the floor to settle between his thighs.

Dante’s mouth went dry as she undid the button and dragged down the zipper. He lifted his hips so she could work the pants down his hips. She licked her lips at the sight of his cock, and Dante nearly lost it right then and there. “Amata.”

She wrapped a fist around his cock and gave him a slow pump. “Amata.” Rose repeated it back with a nearly flawless accent. “What does it mean?”

His breath, his words, his fucking soul, caught in his chest as she descended to take his cock into her mouth. They’d done this before, of course, but it felt different. Everything about this felt different. Rose took him slowly, teasing and licking down his length until her lips sealed around his base. In this moment, he could deny her nothing. The truth slipped free. “Beloved. Amata means beloved.”

Rose moaned and sucked him harder, moving nearly off his cock before descending again. Dante sank his hands into her hair, but he wasn’t interested in guiding her movements. She’d chosen this. She would maintain control… For a little while, at least.

It didn’t take long before his balls tightened and he had to fight the rising surge of need. “Amata,” he said sharply. A warning.

Rose opened her eyes and held his gaze as she descended on his cock again. The challenge in those hazel depths… Fuck, it undid him. Dante tightened his grip on her hair and lost it. He came hard, cursing as he did. Rose drank him down with little moans and whimpers, but she didn’t stop, sucking at him as he went soft. “Rosa.” He dragged her off him gently and pulled her up his body to kiss her deeply. Dante nipped her bottom lip. “Take off your pants before I rip them to pieces.”

“Promises, promises.” But she was already slipping out of his grasp to shimmy out of her jeans. She didn’t stop there, thank fuck, skimming off her panties and top. Her bra followed, leaving her gloriously naked.

Dante yanked off his shirt and slid off the couch to the floor. “Come here.” He guided her to stand over him and put one knee on the couch. She was so wet, he could see it, and he parted her pussy with two fingers as he looked up her body to her face. “I’ll take care of you, amata.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Si,” he agreed easily. “All the same, I will also be taking care of you.”

Her lips curved. “I suppose you mean to start with orgasms.”

“Everything should start with orgasms.”

She laughed. It was the first time he’d heard her sound so free. He liked it. He craved it. Dante decided right then and there that he’d do whatever it took to make a life with this woman where she laughed like that on the daily.

Even if he had to bring three crime families to their knees to do it.

Chapter 22

There were a thousand reasons this wouldn’t work. It wasn’t as if Dante had declared his undying love, even if he called Rose beloved. She wasn’t sure a man like him was capable of love at all. But as he leaned forward and licked her clit, she decided that it didn’t fucking matter. She’d never felt for another person the way she felt for Dante Verducci.

This would undoubtedly blow up in her face, but everything was already exploding. Why not light another match?

He bit her thigh. “You’re thinking too hard.”

“Do something about it, then.”

Something flickered through his dark eyes, something like wonder, and he dragged her down to straddle him, dug his hands into her hair, and claimed her mouth. All her thoughts and worries were swept away in an avalanche of lust. She ground down against him, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough with Dante. He was a fire in her blood, consuming everything. Maybe she should worry about that, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, not with him pressing against her entrance.

“Amata—”

But it was too late. She was already working herself onto his cock. The blow job had turned her on, and his tongue had only heightened her pleasure, but she still wasn’t quite ready for his size. She didn’t care. If anything, the near-painful stretch just grounded her further in the moment. Rose braced her hands on Dante’s shoulders and swiveled her hips, sinking another inch. “Do I feel good, d’yavol? Tight and wet and made just for you?”

His grip spasmed on her hips, but he didn’t drag her the rest of the way down his cock like she expected. “You are made just for me.” His low voice made her pussy tighten, and she moaned. He didn’t stop there, though. “Beautiful. Cunning. Brutal. Violent. You’re my match, Rosa Romanov. You’re mine.” He surged forward and dragged his mouth over her throat and up to her ear. “And I’m yours.”

She couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t sure she even needed to with his words buoying her. “You’re madder than the Mad Wolf.”

“Si.” He thrust up a little, spearing her another few inches. “You know that for the asset it is.”

She did. Dear god, she did. He would never balk at doing what needed to be done. She’d never have to explain her reasonings or justify the lengths she’d go to protect her family and her people. Rose slammed the rest of the way onto him, moaning at the feeling of them being sealed together fully. “We do this, there’s no going back, Dante. No changing your mind. No betraying me.”

“Never.” He used his hold on her hair to bend her back and lavish her breasts with rough kisses. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Rose was terrified that she had as well.

She slid a hand between them to stroke her clit, and Dante growled against her skin and set his teeth against the underside of her right breast. “I fucking love when you do that.” He looped an arm around her lower back and held her tight to him as he bore her to the floor.

She expected… She wasn’t sure what she expected because he kissed her and slowed them down, fucking her with a ruthless gentleness that had her toes curling. It didn’t matter how much she squirmed or tried to move, she was helpless to do more than take what he gave her. Slow, pleasurable waves that edged her closer and closer to orgasm. Every stroke had her clit grinding against him, a steady beat… “Don’t stop, d’yavol.”

“Never.” He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. “You’re mine, amata. I’ll always give you what you need.”

A promise she had no business believing, and yet she couldn’t stop the surge in her chest in response to it. “Give me what I need now.”

He didn’t pick up his pace, didn’t change his stroke, just kept fucking her in exactly the way she needed. Rose tried to hold out, but her body was too primed for him, and he was hitting all her spots too perfectly. She clutched his back and buried her face in his neck as she orgasmed.

Dante shifted back just enough to claim her mouth, to swallow her sobs and moans, and he got rougher, chasing his own pleasure. He broke the kiss with a gasp. “In or out, Rose?”

No misunderstanding his meaning. This, too, was symbolic in its own way. “Come in me, d’yavol. Fill me up.”

“Ti amo così fottutamente tanto, amata.” He kissed her, making her head spin even as his thrusts lost their rhythm and he ground into her, coming hard. “I love you, Rose Romanov.”

I love you, too.

She couldn’t say it aloud. Not yet. It felt like promising something she wasn’t sure she should promise. Admitting she’d fallen for Dante even harder than she’d fallen for Jackson wasn’t the same as agreeing to marry him, but it wasn’t far off, either.

They lay there, entangled in the most perfect way possible, as the sweat on their bodies cooled and their heartbeats returned to normal. Rose turned her head and pressed a kiss to Dante’s jaw. “Let me up. I need to shower before I go home.” The longer she stayed here, the harder it would be to leave.

“Stay.”

“I can’t.” If her family woke up and she was gone, there’d be hell to pay. She needed to play things correctly, to break this news to her parents in the most favorable way possible, and it wouldn’t be by sneaking around, acting like a foolish teenager.

Dante eased off her and took her hand, tugging her to her feet. “I am not spending the next few months sneaking around while you work up the courage to tell your family. You have a week.”

She blinked. “You don’t get to decide that timeline.”

“Rosa.” He held her gaze. “Either you choose this, or you don’t. If you do, then straddling the line only gives your enemies longer to prepare and catch you unawares. Decisive action is required.”

Her stomach dropped out. He wasn’t wrong, but… “Easy for you to say. You’ve already made your choice. When your cousin takes over, he’ll give you carte blanche to do whatever the fuck you want. You don’t have the same responsibilities that I do.”

Dante didn’t move. “Do you think that would make a single fucking difference to me if I did?”

She opened her mouth to say yes but couldn’t quite get the answer out. He was so single-minded when it came to her. Even if he’d been heir instead of the muscle, would that have changed any of the events that led them here? “I’m not like you. Not when it comes to my family.”

“Si.” He finally released her from his intense look and headed into the bathroom, leaving her to trail behind. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you know attempting to avoid what comes next will only make it worse.”

He was right, and she hated that he was right. “We need to figure out a way around Romeo Capparelli. That’s the biggest hurdle right now, aside from your uncle.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She stared up into his face and waited for doubt to come. This thing between them wasn’t rational. It wasn’t a good idea from the outside looking in. Anyone from their respective lives would agree… “What does your cousin think of all this?”

“He’s not happy with me.” Dante turned on the shower and held his hand under the spray, testing the temperature. “He’ll get over it.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

He shrugged. “When I marry you, I get excommunicated from the family on all official channels.”

Rose jolted. “What? Dante, they’re your family. You can’t do that. Not for me.”

“I’m more than capable of making those decisions and weighing the cost on my own, amata.” He grabbed her hand and stepped into the shower, tugging her after him. “My relationship with my cousin is separate from family business.”

“I don’t understand that,” she said faintly. “How can you separate family and Family?” She loved her various aunts and uncles and cousins. But she never stopped being aware that while they were connected by blood and marriage, there was a marked difference between Romanov and O’Malley and Sheridan. A part of her always watched what she said around extended family.

And her parents? Her sisters? No matter the bonds that held them, it was understood that their first responsibility was to their power base and territory. Toward the greater good, as it related to their goals. It was why her parents had laid out exactly one option once they discovered her boyfriend was actually Dante Verducci. It was why she hadn’t flinched at marrying a man who was basically an enemy. It was why Lorelei hadn’t hesitated to do whatever it took to prevent their peace talks from being derailed—even marrying the man Rose was supposed to.

If the choice came down to her family or literally anything else, she would choose family.

“No one’s asking you to make that choice.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and stepped away to start soaping himself up. “The Verducci family kicked my mother out when she needed them the most because they didn’t want their reputation tarnished. I have exactly as much loyalty as my history with them requires.”

“But—”

“You don’t have to understand it. Matteo and I do. It’s enough.”

She wanted to press, but the truth was that he was right. She didn’t have to understand it, not if she trusted Dante. And she did. Her mind could think of hundreds of reasons trusting him was a terrible idea, but her gut, her heart? They believed this man entirely. “What if Romeo kills you?”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

He gave a brief smile and ducked under the spray, rinsing quickly. “Si, amata, I do. Romeo is too smart to throw away a potential tool. It’s simply a matter of convincing him I’m useful.”

“How—”

He gave her another quick kiss. “Trust me.”

She wanted a full explanation on what he planned, but the fact was she didn’t have time. Rose washed off quickly and followed him out of the shower to dry off. They dressed in silence, which was just as well because her mind whirled into dead end after dead end of how she was going to pull this off. Her parents wanted Dante dead. Anya wanted Dante dead, which was even more worrisome. Pitching this to them had to be done carefully, or they’d just override her and rush off to put a bullet between his beautiful eyes.

After braiding her wet hair away from her face, she turned to Dante. “Don’t die, d’yavol. I’m not done with you yet.”

He gave her a wolfish grin. “Not even hell could keep me from you, amata.” Dante kissed her, hard and brief. “Now go. Before I change my mind and drag you into bed.”

As tempting as that was, she needed to go home. They had to play this right if they wanted even the smallest chance of succeeding, and that meant being in her own bed when the rest of the Romanov house woke up. “Be safe.”

“You, too.”

Rose left the hotel room with her heart in her throat. Vasily waited out in the hallway, their hands clasped behind their back. They raised their eyebrows at her. “Getting late.”

“I know. Let’s hurry.”

They made it back home just as dawn had begun to break up the darkness of the sky. Late, but also far too early. She was in for a rough day after not sleeping, but she didn’t care. It was worth it. Now all she needed to do was figure out how to present to her parents that Dante could be an asset. He was on an individual level, of course. No one could argue that. But his connections and family made it complicated and mostly outweighed the good.

They’d find a way through.

What a novel thought. She wasn’t sure exactly when she started thinking of them as a team, and the very idea felt a little strange in her head, but she couldn’t deny how right it felt.

The first indication that something was wrong was the light on in the kitchen. She barely had time to brace herself when her father stepped out from the doorway. Rose glanced at Vasily, and they nodded and headed back into the garage. This was a family affair.

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “Were you waiting in a dark doorway to step dramatically out into the light, Papa? Such theatrics are beneath you.”

He didn’t smile. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A bluff and not even a good one.

Papa nodded at the kitchen island. “Sit down.”

She didn’t know if it was a good thing that he hadn’t hauled her to his office for a lecture, but this felt worse somehow. She tried to tell herself she was a grown woman who didn’t have to answer to her father about where she’d been, but the defense rang flat and false. This wasn’t a normal situation, and Rose wasn’t a normal woman.

She sat.

He moved to the stove and put the kettle on. Maybe in other families this kind of conversation would call for a drink, but Mama had a history of alcoholism. It didn’t bother her anymore when people drank around her, but Papa still had a rule against having alcohol in the house to save her from having to deal with it. As a result, when things were about to get serious, he made tea.

She sat in silence while he pulled two mugs down and got to work making their tea. Peppermint for her. Ginger-turmeric for him. He took the seat next to her and blew gently on the steam curling up from his mug. “Your entire life, you have always put the family first, Roza. You’ve been a worthy heir.”

She couldn’t help a bitter laugh. “That hasn’t saved me from Jovan putting a target on my forehead.”

“There was always the chance it would come to this.” He didn’t look at her. “It’s going to get ugly. We might lose people. We need every ally in our corner we can manage, and that means bringing the other Romanov branches over to our side.”

She knew he was right, but she couldn’t help arguing. “They’re in Texas, California, and Washington. They might as well be in Russia for all they can help.”

“And yet Russia is where the threat lies.” He picked up his mug. “If they offer Jovan’s people a stateside base of operations, it will make a difference, Roza. It might make the difference. We cannot afford to alienate any of them now.” He finally looked at her. “What you are doing with Dante Verducci will alienate Kirill. It might be enough for him to do more than be a passive spectator in the coming conflict. We cannot afford to have that happen.”

“Papa—”

“I’m not finished.” He didn’t raise his voice, but ice frosted his tone. “In addition to potentially causing problems with our American extended family, there is also your sister and the Capparelli family to consider. If Romeo discovers where you were tonight, who you were with, he may very well go forward with a war declaration. Should that happen, Lorelei will bear the cost.”

The thought made her sick to her stomach. Lorelei was already bearing the cost, but Papa was right; if they went to war, there would be nothing protecting her from her new husband. They’d have no recourse if he harmed her—if he…killed her.

In the face of that, Dante’s reassurances that they would find a way through felt flat. How could they, when so much was stacked against them? She cupped her hands around her mug, letting the heat battle the chill taking root in her chest. “There has to be a way.”

“Roza…” Papa sighed. “I can understand the draw. He’s dangerous and obviously focused intensely on you. There’s a thrill that comes from being on the same level as someone who is your match.”

Like Papa and Mama.

She stared down at her tea, the feeling in her chest getting worse. “It doesn’t really matter if I’m drawn to him or not, does it? Because the circumstances won’t allow for us to be together. You won’t allow us to be together.”

“I’m sorry.” He actually sounded like he meant it. Papa clasped her shoulder. “We talk about the sacrifices one makes for family with a sense of glamor, but it doesn’t mean they’re a pleasant experience.”

She wanted to yell at him, to rail about how unfair this was. Papa had broken all the rules time and time again in his pursuit of Mama when they were younger. He hadn’t given a fuck if he entered into a war with everyone in his path because he wanted her and meant to have her.

Things were different back then, though. There was only one Romanov in New York, so he had little to lose beyond his life. Now, if there were a war, the casualty list could be their entire family. Her parents. Her sisters. Her people.

She closed her eyes. “I understand.”

Rose left her father drinking tea in the kitchen and retreated to her bedroom. There was no solace to be found within those four walls. She paced back and forth, her father’s word warring with her aunt’s.

The smart thing to do was to cut things off with Dante. When she laid the facts down and took emotions out of the picture, the only rational way forward was without him. That was the problem, though. There was nothing rational about her connection with this man. There hadn’t been from the start.

An hour later, she had no more answers. She kept going around and around, treading water until it felt like she might drown. Rose closed her eyes. She owed him a conversation, at least. Even if it was only to say goodbye.

Chapter 23

Dante was almost asleep when his phone rang. He picked it up and stared a long moment at the familiar number on the screen. Rose. There was no good reason for her to be calling now, and a whole list of bad ones. He finally answered. “Si?”

“My father knows.”

He closed his eyes and lay back on the bed. She wasn’t the easiest to read in person and over the phone her blank tone could mean anything and nothing. “Are you calling to cut things off, amata?”

“I should.” Her voice wavered a little. “It’s beyond selfish to continue to pursue things with you. My family will be the ones to pay the cost.”

Dante rubbed his temple, thinking fast. Dmitri would have laid out irrefutable facts and he would have struck right to the heart of his daughter’s fears. “Tell me what he said.”

She drew in shuddering breath. “We need all the allies we can get. Choosing you means alienating Romeo, which will put my sister in direct danger. It also means alienating Kirill, which could lead to him allowing Jovan’s people a foothold in the states. We can’t afford to be divided right now. Jovan will slaughter us if we are.”

“Matteo will take care of Kirill.”

“You can’t know that.”

He stared to argue, but the truth was that she didn’t know his cousin. She only had his word things would be resolved. His word should be good enough, but with the stakes so high, he couldn’t blame her for the doubt. There was only one way to alleviate it. “I’ll return to LA and deal with Kirill.”

“Dante.”

He muscled down his irritation at the sharp way she said his name. “I’m not going to kill him, Rosa. He’s a pain in the ass and he’s committed plenty of acts against my people, but I will pursue a peaceful arrangement. For you.”

She gave a sad little laugh. “Kirill hates the Verduccis. You can’t—”

“Rose.” He sat up. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. I’ll burn this entire fucking world to the ground, Kirill, Romeo, and Jovan with it, if it means being with you. There are no lengths I won’t go to, and that includes making peace with that old bastard. Do you understand me?”

“Just like that.”

“Si, just like that.” She wanted him to find a way. She wouldn’t be calling like this if she didn’t. “Give me time.”

She was silent for a very long time, but Dante would wait for days if that was what it took. He hadn’t come this far to be deterred by a few road bumps, no matter how extreme Rose found them. Finally, she said, “Is there anything that would make you turn away from me, Dante?”

“No.”

“Such a quick answer.”

He shrugged even though she couldn’t see it. “There’s nothing to consider. You’re mine. I’m yours. No one else will do, amata. I’ve told you that from the beginning.”

She inhaled slowly. “Yeah, I guess you have.” Rustling on her end. When she spoke, her voice sounded firmer, more resolute. “Go back to LA and secure peace with Kirill and your family. I’ll deal with Romeo.”

A shot of pure adrenaline bolted through him. “No.”

“Da. We don’t have time for you to deal with both, and frankly, I have a better chance of bringing Romeo around to seeing things our way than you do.”

How? What lengths will you go to?

He didn’t ask. If she was willing to trust him in this, he could only do the same. Still… “If he lays one finger on you, I’ll take a page out of your book and skin him alive.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice warmed and he could almost see her smile. “Stay safe, d’yavol.”

“You too, amata. I’ll see you in a few days.” He paused. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She hung up before he fully registered that she’d returned the words.

Dante played them back in his head several times. Close. They were so close to the future he wanted. He wouldn’t allow anything to get in his way. He dialed his cousin.

“Si.” For once, Matteo sounded cold and serious.

“Change of plans. I’m coming back. We need Kirill.”

“I’ll set up a meeting.”

Dante paused. That had been easy. Too easy. “What about Lorenzo?”

“My father is no longer in the picture.”

Thank fuck. Another sentiment he kept internal. Matteo’s relationship with his father was none of Dante’s fucking business, but he imagined it must have been difficult to kill the old man. “Condolences.”

Matteo snorted. “Don’t go getting soft on me now, Dante. I have a meeting with Kirill tomorrow morning. If you can get back by then, you can attend.”

“I’ll be there.” He was already moving as he hung up, tossing his stuff back into his suitcase. It took five minutes to book a flight and another two to schedule a ride. He met the car at the curb and started the long journey back to the West Coast.

Through it all, Dante thought about Rose and Romeo. The Capparelli wouldn’t harm her. He was reasonably sure of that. The man had already married Rose’s little sister, so he doubted he’d attempt to reverse that arrangement. But there were a thousand things that could go wrong…

He sighed. Either he trusted his woman, or he didn’t. She was more than a match for some fucking Capparelli, and he couldn’t focus properly on Kirill if he was distracted wondering what the fuck she was up to. She was trusting him to do this, was putting her faith in him, and he’d be damned before he fucked it up.

Dante barely had time to shower and change before Matteo was banging on his bedroom door. He opened to it find his cousin dressed to the nines. He’d always favored expensive clothes, but there was a different aura about him now. Dante narrowed his eyes. “Long live the king.”

Matteo’s icy expression thawed, showing a hint of concern. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? You’re ready to be excommunicated for this woman.”

“For my woman. Si. Use that as a bargaining chip to secure Kirill’s agreement not to host the Russian Romanovs while they’re in conflict with the New York branch.”

Matteo went to drag his hand through his hair, but stopped before he made contact. “There’s no going back if you take that step. It doesn’t matter if she dumps your ass. Once you’re struck from our line, that’s it.”

“I know.”

Matteo searched his face. “You’re not going to change your mind.”

“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “This is the right play, and you know it. Remove your father, remove his junkyard dog. Establish your own people.”

“You are my people.”

“Si, and I always will be. But the Verducci family has done nothing for me. Losing it is no loss.” He held his cousin’s gaze. This conversation only had one destination and they both knew it. Matteo didn’t even truly want Dante back. He knew the truth, but for once he was letting his emotions override his reason. “You don’t need me anymore.”

“You’re my fucking cousin, Dante. Like a brother to me. Don’t tell me what I do or don’t need.” He spun on his heel, took three steps, and spun back. “Change your mind. Find another woman or man or whoever. Be my righthand man.”

Dante shook his head slowly. “No. The decision’s been made.”

“Ah well.” Matteo’s shoulders slumped, but he smiled. “It was worth a shot.”

He smiled in response. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age.”

“Si, si, call it what you want.” His cousin looked away. “It’s time to go.”

“Let’s not keep the Russian waiting.”

They met Kirill at a little diner situated on the border between their territories. The parking lot was full of both Verducci people and Romanov people, all bristling with attitude and enough guns to start a small war. Dante and Matteo ignored them, taking the steps up to the door with the faded Open sign and into the building.

It looked just like one would expect of a diner. Black and white checkered floors. Black vinyl booths. A bar running down the length of it with stools on the customer side and a griddle on the other side. The entire place was empty, except for an old Black woman who ran the diner, Evelyn. She gave him and Matteo a long look. “I don’t want any funny business.”

“No, ma’am.” Matteo gave her his best charming smile. “We’re just here for a chat.”

She shook her head. “Don’t try that with me, Matty. I’ve known you since you were six, so I know better. Go sit down and be polite. I’ll get the coffee.”

They made their way to the only occupied booth back in the corner, out of the way of any windows. Kirill sat hunched over a steaming cup of coffee, his age-spotted hands curled around the mug. His hair had been silver as long as Dante had known him, and it had thinned over the years. He looked like exactly what he was, an old white man well into his twilight years.

He sat back as Matteo and Dante slid into the seat across from him. “Condolences on your father’s death.” His accent was thick and voice low. He smiled slowly. “Or should I be congratulating the new head of the Verducci family?”

His cousin tensed, but kept his easy smile in place. “My father and you never managed to see eye to eye.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Kirill sipped his coffee and studied them both. He might be as old as dirt, but the years hadn’t dimmed the intelligence in those dark eyes. “So, what will your first play be? Strong move indicates a strong leader. Can’t afford to fuck around.”

“Si.” Matteo shrugged. “That’s why we’re here. I have a proposal for you.”

“I’m already married, pup.”

Matteo didn’t smile. “I’m interested in putting things to rest and fostering peace between our families.”

Kirill cocked his head to the side. “Peace.”

“Si.” Matteo glanced at Dante and then refocused on the Russian. “You’re an old man, Kirill. Leave the bullshit territory wars and pissing contests to the young and untried…and those on the East Coast.”

“Ah.” He laughed. “This is about Jovan’s people.” He turned and looked directly at Dante for the first time since he’d sat down. “You’re lucky I value my word enough not to shoot you right here for that stunt you pulled with my niece.”

Dante was already tired of this. If left to their own devices, they would circle and snap and couch their words until night fell. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. “A deal, Kirill. I will be excommunicated and cut all official ties with the Verduccis. You won’t see me in LA again.”

Kirill considered that. He was a smart man. He obviously saw the benefit of appearing to defang the Verduccis. Dante wasn’t the only one of Matteo’s people capable of getting their hands dirty, but he was the flashiest. His absence would be a boon on both sides. “And in return?”

“In return,” Matteo cut in smoothly. “You agree to peace with the Verduccis…and to avoid giving Jovan Romanov’s people a safe place to land.”

“They’re family,” Kirill said neutrally.

Dante snorted. “Please. They’re power-hungry jackals and they want you and your American cousins to dance to the tune they set. You’ll hold out, maybe, but will your children? They’re not as strong as you. So many daughters to potentially be married to Jovan’s people, seeding disquiet within the family.” He leaned forward slightly. “Strong alliances will help protect them…like a strong alliance with the Verduccis.”

“What do you care? If your word is to be believed, you’ll be gone.”

He shrugged. “I have a vested interest in the American Romanovs remaining free of Jovan’s control.”

“I see.”

Kirill considered them for a long time, long enough that Dante had to fight not to fidget. He simply sank into stillness beside his cousin and waited. There was no point rushing the old man. He would decide one way or another when he worked through all the angles in his head. If he came to the wrong decision? Well, Dante would butcher his way through that battlefield if and when he arrived at it.

Finally, the Russian nodded. “Your conditions are satisfactory. With one addition.”

“Si?”

“It’s in everyone’s best interest if this peace is held with more than simply words.” He pointedly didn’t look at Dante. “Pick one of my daughters and marry her. I don’t care which one.”

For the first time since Dante arrived back in LA, he saw his cousin flounder. “That’s…”

Kirill raised his eyebrows. “Is peace worth so little to you?”

“No,” Matteo finally said. His skin was flushed with anger, but he gave a jerky nod. “Your terms are acceptable.”

“Good.” Kirill slid slowly out of the booth and stood, his old bones cracking with the movement. “I’ll be in touch as soon. Ensure your junkyard dog is on a plane out of town before the end of the day.”

“Of course.”

They watched him walk out of the diner. Evelyn walked up with her pot of coffee and two mugs. “Still want the coffee?”

“No, thank you, ma’am.” Matteo placed a stack of hundreds on the table. “For your trouble.”

“You two stay out of trouble.” She swept up the bills and headed behind the counter without looking back.

Matteo hissed out a breath. “That went as well as can be expected.”

Dante nodded. His read on Kirill had always been that the old man simply wanted to enjoy the remainder of his life, but humans were messy and sometimes acted chaotically. This had gone much smoother than he’d anticipated. He hoped Rose’s talk with Romeo went equally as smooth. “Kirill’s old enough to understand that the only thing a war accomplishes is us taking bloody chunks out of each other, and then being swallowed whole by Jovan. This was the smartest way.”

“Si.” Matteo stood and stretched. “I didn’t even have to pressure him on the marriage. He came up with it on his own.”

At that, Dante gave Matteo a long look. His cousin always had been filling with cunning. No doubt this was yet another prong in his plan to unseat his father, establish peace, and bolster a thriving territory. “Which of his daughters do you have an eye on?”

“Tatiana, of course. Who else?”

Kirill’s oldest daughter and second child. “You answered that quickly.” Dante raised his brows. “Something you want to tell me?”

Matteo shrugged. “Nothing special. She’s gorgeous.”

“Either way, congratulations.” Marriages and alliances had been formed with less. Dante rose and followed Matteo out of the diner. He had a few things to grab from his room, but then he was on the next plane back to New York. He dragged in a breath. Close. They were so fucking close to the future he so desperately wanted.

Too many things could go wrong.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Rosa. Kirill is on board. He won’t harbor Jovan’s people and he’s secured peace with the Verduccis. I’m officially excommunicated.

By the time they reached the house, she’d read it but hadn’t responded. Dante managed to hold his impatience down until he made it back to his room and then he called her. No answer. A chill skittered down his spine.

What the fuck was going on back in New York?

Chapter 24

Rose dressed carefully for her meeting with Romeo. Oh, he didn’t realize they had a meeting. In fact, both he and Lorelei had avoided answering her calls. It was suspicious enough that she would have sought out her sister even if there weren’t other things in motion. She didn’t have time to stand around waiting until they decided to talk to her.

She pulled on a green dress that felt almost Grecian. It fit loosely on her body, fastened around the middle with a tie and slit up just enough on both sides to flash a bit of leg with every step. She smiled a little bitterly at herself in the mirror.

Helen of Troy, indeed.

It was Saturday night, which meant the Capparelli family would be at their favorite restaurant. They had their little rituals the same way the Romanovs did. It was a constant balance between weakness and strength to operate like that, the schedule predictable enough for enemies to capitalize on but being strong enough that it didn’t fucking matter if their enemies knew where they were.

They were untouchable.

Or at least they appeared to be.

Vasily met her at the door to the garage. They were dressed to impress today, too, wearing a suit that fit their wide shoulders and broad chest. Some of the Romanov’s muscle preferred to spend their money on other things and wore ill-fitting suits, but Vasily had always appeared perfectly tailored when the situation called for it.

This one certainly did.

Vasily held the door open for her. “You sure about this?”

“Yes.” She had to be. She’d set herself on this path, had put her faith in her and Dante and a future they spent together. The only option was to follow through. If she didn’t, she’d spend the rest of her life wondering what they could have shared if she hadn’t let cowardice win.

She’d made her choice.

She just hoped it didn’t blow up in the face of her and everyone she cared about.

By the time Vasily pulled up in front of the restaurant, a cold calm had stolen over Rose. This was no different than any other confrontation. Romeo would try to bulldoze her, and she would refuse to bend. They’d have to figure out if they could come to terms between his unstoppable force and her immovable object. They had managed it before. They would do it this time, too.

He didn’t want war. She was sure of it. More, he had wanted Lorelei and now he had her as his wife. A pang went through her at thought. She hadn’t wanted that future for her sister, but they were well past the point of no return. The only thing to do was make the best of it.

The hostess greeted Rose as she walked through the door. “Hello, a reservation for two?”

“No, I’m here to see someone.” She brushed past the hostess stand, Vasily at her heels, and strode through the main dining room. It was filled to the brim tonight, people decked out in their best and dining here with the intent to see and be seen. She recognized several faces, but ignored them all on her path back to the doorway tucked in the corner. It led to the private dining areas, and it was exclusively the Capparellis’ on Saturday evening.

Rose stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. She’s only got one shot. She couldn’t fuck this up.

With that in mind, she nodded at Vasily and they threw open the door. Rose stepped into the room to find four guns pointed in her direction. She smiled and met the gaze of everyone in the room, one by one. “Is this how the Capparellis greet their sister-in-law?”

Romeo Capparelli was a handsome bastard. Dark hair, eyes that weren’t quite brown, and a distinctly Clark Kent look with his black square glasses. If Clark Kent was a dangerous predator and not a nice guy. He sat back in his chair, perfectly at ease and stretched his arm around the back of the chair of Rose’s sister.

She drank in the sight of Lorelei. Her sister wore a black dress and looked well enough. There was no overt sign of distress or abuse, at least. Not that it meant anything. It hadn’t been long since she married Romeo. Lorelei watched her with a wary look that Rose didn’t like, but at least she didn’t have a gun pointed at her.

Romeo’s right-hand man stood at his shoulder, tense and waiting for Romeo to indicate which way he wanted this to go. Salvatore D’Angelo. He was a massive white man with sandy blond hair, broad chest and shoulders and solid stomach. Dangerous. Not someone Rose would intentionally cross if she had any other option.

The other two were Romeo’s siblings, Fabian and Drucilla. Both took after their elder brother with their coloring, dark hair and those strange amber eyes. Fabian had the look of a rich playboy who’d never gotten his hands dirty once in his life, but it was a mask. Rose had seen photos of his work with a knife, and he wasn’t a threat to be underestimated. Drucilla was a social media influencer, and there had been talk of a reality TV show before Romeo shut it down. She played to expectations, but she was just as dangerous as her brothers.

They didn’t matter.

Romeo was the one who made the decisions for the family. He was the one she had to convince to see things her way.

Rose kept her smile firmly in place. “I thought it was time we spoke.”

Romeo considered her for a long moment before he turned to Lorelei. “Do you want to speak with your sister?”

Shock rocked Rose back on her heels. What the fuck was going on here? He wasn’t exactly being soft with her sister—she wasn’t sure Romeo Capparelli was capable of being soft—but she hadn’t expected him to consult Lorelei at all. Certainly not as someone resembling an equal.

Her sister gave a deceptively sweet smile. “Of course, muzh. She’s family.”

“Very well.” He motioned at his siblings. “Give us a few moments.”

Drucilla and Fabian exchanged a loaded look, but they didn’t argue. They simply rose to their feet and filed out of the room, Salvatore on their heels. Rose glanced over her shoulder at Vasily. “You, too.”

They hesitated, but finally nodded and slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind them. Only then did she turn back to Romeo and her sister. “You’re dodging my phone calls.”

“Call it the honeymoon phase,” Romeo said, no inflection in his tone. “We’re only just married.”

Lorelei went a little tight around the eyes, but she shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

Can you ever forgive me for putting you in this position?

Rose didn’t ask the question. There was only so much she was willing to reveal in front of Romeo and he showed no signs of leaving. On the other hand, threats were easy enough. She propped one hand on her hip and looked down at him. “If you harm a single hair on my sister’s head—”

“She’s my wife.” He raised a single eyebrow. “I’m not sure how the Romanovs treat their spouses, but Lorelei is in no danger from me.” He finally looked at his wife. “Your sister and I have some business to discuss. She’ll come talk to you after.”

Rose expected Lorelei to argue or say…something. But she simply nodded and rose. She slipped past Rose and out of the room without a word. She was acting too placid, too docile. Not like the Lorelei Rose knew at all. What the fuck was going on?

Rose turned back to Romeo. “Did you do something to her?”

“No.”

“Why won’t she talk to me?”

He shrugged. “That business is between you and your sister. You didn’t come here for a family reunion.”

No. She hadn’t. She needed his cooperation, but the weird interaction with Lorelei had rattled her. “We need to talk.”

“Si.” He motioned to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

As she sat, he took the bottle of wine and poured her a glass. It was only once she picked it up that he continued. “If you try to take Lorelei from me, you won’t like the consequences.”

She set the glass down without drinking. “You wanted her from the beginning. Not me.”

Another shrug. “Why are you wasting time parroting back information we both already know to be true?”

She kind of wanted to shatter her glass on the table and impale his neck with it. Rose could almost see the spatter of arterial blood that would cover everything. It wouldn’t solve anything, would only make more problems, but it would feel so good. She gave herself a shake. “I want to know why you picked her.”

“That’s not why you’re here.”

No, it wasn’t, but now that she sat in the same room with him, she had to know the truth. “I still want to know.”

He stared at her with those cold amber eyes. “That’s between me and Lorelei. If that’s all you came to speak about…there’s the door.” He motioned with the hand holding the wine glass.

Rose would question her sister about it later, but right now she had to say some unforgivable shit to smooth things over. She lifted her chin. “You got exactly what you wanted.”

“Certainly seems that way.” He gave her nothing to work with, but that was fine. She knew how Romeo operated. He wasn’t one to be driven by emotions and he wouldn’t make any calls that weren’t strictly in his family’s benefit. Compromise barely entered into the equation.

She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. She couldn’t keep badgering at him, pushed by her guilt and conflicted emotions about the situation. There was only one card to play, and it might be a doozy, but she had to present it in a way to make Romeo take the bait. “I have a proposal for you.”

“I already have a wife.”

“Is that a joke?” She lifted her brows. “Romeo, you surprise me. I didn’t know you were hiding a sense of humor beneath that icy demeanor.”

He sighed and shook his head slowly. “I am merely stating facts, Rose. I have a wife. I am not interested in anything you have to offer me.”

“That’s a shame.” The wine was good. Expensive. She took another sip, pretending to consider. “I thought you might be interested in Lev Romanov’s head on a platter, but if you’re not…” She started to rise.

Romeo went perfectly still. “Sit.”

“I am not a dog, Romeo. I don’t answer to your commands.” She still allowed herself to sink back into her chair. “I heard a rumor he got awfully close to your sister the last time he was in town.” She didn’t have the specifics of what had gone down between Lev and Drucilla two years ago, but it was enough that Romeo killed a bunch of Lev’s people and threatened a full-out conflict if Papa ever allowed Lev into the city again. As far as she knew, Lev hadn’t even entered the country since then.

Romeo studied her for several long moments, and she had the eerie feeling of being prey facing down a predator about to strike. Rose might have laughed if there was enough air to draw a full breath. Romeo wasn’t the only predator in the room, though, and he’d be a fool to forget that. She met his gaze steadily, letting him work his way through it.

Finally, a small eternity later, he lifted his glass to his lips. “I’ll hear you out.”

“I thought you might.” She didn’t allow herself to slouch back into her chair. She simply smiled. “You have my sister. I can all but guarantee you Lev. In return, I want something from you.”

“I’m listening.”

Her phone buzzed and she glanced down to see a text from Dante.

Kirill is on board. He won’t harbor Jovan’s people and he’s secured peace with the Verduccis. I’m officially excommunicated.

She looked up, her smile warming. “I’m going to marry Dante.”

Romeo stared for a long moment and then huffed out a dry laugh. “You must think I’m a fool.”

“On the contrary, I think you’re quite intelligent. I also think you’re a man with his priorities in order.” She leaned forward. “What is the use of nursing some decades old feud with a family across the country? That’s your father’s fight. Your grandfather’s. It’s not yours.”

His lips curved, but his eyes remained so cold she was surprised her breath didn’t ghost the air in front of her. Romeo eyed his wine. “You are not the person to tell me which fight is mine, Rose.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But Dante has been excommunicated from the Verduccis. Even if you’re determined to maintain the feud, then you can take it up with Matteo.”

That sparked a reaction in him. He narrowed his eyes. “Matteo.”

“Oh,” she said, falsely sweet. “I didn’t realize you hadn’t heard. Lorenzo is dead. Matteo is now the head of that family. He and Kirill just came to an agreement that will result in a strong alliance between them.” And cut off Russian access to LA in the process. One branch of the family down, two more to go. Her phone buzzed again, but she thumbed it off. This conversation was too important to continue interrupting, even for Dante.

Having Romeo’s interest sharpen on her wasn’t a comfortable feeling, but she maintained her calm mask. Rose crossed her legs. “There’s a war coming, Romeo. Not an old toothless feud and not some pissing match between small players.”

“Jovan.” He said the name tonelessly. “What’s to stop me from throwing my lot in with him?”

She gave him the look that question deserved. “Please. The first thing he’d do is give your sister to Lev, quickly followed up by killing my sister.” Fear made her stomach clench, but she pressed on. She had to get Romeo onto her side. There was no other option. “That’s the best-case scenario. It’s far more likely that he’ll just kill all of you. Jovan isn’t one to leave a wolf at his back.”

Romeo didn’t shift and move the way most people did. He simply sat in perfect stillness while he considered her. “Explain to me how you marrying Dante Verducci helps with this situation.”

“It takes me off the market. Without them able to pretend they’re pressing a match for me, they’ll have to be honest about what their goals are.”

His gaze flicked to her throat. Her makeup covered the faded bruises, but he stared as if he could see them clearly. “Seems to me that they’re already being honest about what their goals are.”

She shrugged. “I want Dante. He’s mine. That’s reason enough to marry him.”

Again, that curve of his lips. Again, the smile came nowhere close to his eyes. “If I agree to stand aside and allow you to marry him without consequence, you will provide me with all the information you have on Lev Romanov.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he kept speaking before she could. “In addition to that, you will put aside any schemes or plotting to divest me of my wife.”

She swallowed hard. “And if she doesn’t want to stay married to you?”

“Ask her yourself, Rose.” He motioned for the door. “Now, leave me in peace. I expect regular updates on the Jovan situation as it unfolds.”

“Of course.” She rose smoothly to her feet. “I’ll see my sister, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“By all means.”

Rose had to force herself to turn and walk to the door, leaving Romeo her back. Every instinct demanded she keep him in sight, but pride was a fickle thing and reputation even more so. He’d agreed to hold their alliance without demanding more than she was willing to give, even if she married Dante. It was better than she’d dared hope.

Out in the hallway, Drucilla and Fabian were nowhere in sight, but Lorelei stood speaking with Vasily under the harsh oversight of Salvatore. He didn’t seem to be doing anything overtly wrong, but he was standing a little too close to Lorelei and was glaring at Vasily a little too hard.

Her sister saw her and moved to meet her. She grabbed Rose’s hands. “Don’t do anything to endanger my marriage to Romeo.”

Rose blinked. “I can’t believe you married him, Lorelei. What were you thinking?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Her smirk was just as fake as her nails currently digging into Rose’s hands. She stared up at Rose. “Listen to me. I do not need or want your help. Do you understand me, Rose? No meddling. No sending Anya to fuck with Romeo. I have things under control.”

Something was very, very wrong. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Has he hurt you?”

Lorelei blinked, true shock filtering into her expression. “No. Of course not. I’d kill him if he did.”

“Then what’s going on?” Rose murmured. “Why are you acting so weird? Why is he so set on you?”

Lorelei shook her head and dropped her hands. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. It was the truth.

“Then trust that I have the situation under control.”

She wanted to keep arguing, but Drucilla and Fabian rounded the corner, each carrying a bottle of wine. She was out of time. “If that changes, promise that you’ll ask for help.”

“I’m a big girl, Rose. I can take care of myself.” Lorelei turned and walked through the door and back into the private dining room without another word.

The two Capparellis didn’t engage as they slipped past her, but Salvatore stopped with his big hand on the door. He was bigger than Vasily, easily as large as Grady. He stared down at her for a long moment. “Leave your sister alone. She’s a Capparelli now.” He turned and headed through the doorway before she could come up with a good response to that.

Lorelei might be married to a Capparelli, but she was a fucking Romanov. If they thought they could wave that away without consequences…

One thing at a time.

Vasily fell into step beside her as she headed for the exit. They kept their voice low. “She’s okay.”

“Something is wrong.”

“Lorelei is capable. She’s got it covered.”

They fell silent as they moved through the dining room and out the front door. It was only when they were safely in the car again that Rose spoke. “It’s a problem for another day, unfortunately. I need to speak with my parents. Now.”

Chapter 25

Rose wasted no time seeking out her parents as soon as she arrived home. She needed to speak to them before someone reported on where she’d been. Most conversations between her and Papa and Mama weren’t political negotiations, but the same couldn’t be said for what came next. She needed all the advantages she could get.

There was no need to ask where her parents were. At this hour on a Saturday night, they’d be in the study, drinking tea and going over the week’s reports. They liked to button up each week like that, since Sundays were usually reserved for family.

Sure enough, when she strode through the door, they had their heads together looking at something on Papa’s computer. Mama had on a casual gray wrap dress and Papa was clothed, as always, in one of his customary suits, though he’d lost his tie and had rolled up his sleeves. He idly stroked a hand through Mama’s hair, the casual intimacy making Rose’s chest ache.

She wanted that. More, she finally had a true chance at it, and she wouldn’t let anything stand in her way. This was the last barrier that stood between her and Dante being able to be together.

Rose shut the door and waited for them to look at her. “We need to talk.”

“We were just wrapping up.” Papa kissed Mama’s temple and sat back. “It’s good you’re here. Vladimir is in town. He wants a meeting tomorrow morning.”

Vladimir Romanov was Jovan’s second son. He was as close to Jovan himself as they’d get on this continent. Neither Jovan nor his heir would be traveling, which made sense. Why leave their seat of power? “He’s here to issue some fucked-up ultimatum.”

“Da.”

She had even less time than she thought. So be it. Rose straightened her spine and worked to keep her tone even and reasonable. “Papa, I listened to your concerns yesterday and while I respect them, they are no longer an issue. I’ve dealt with both Romeo and Kirill. I’m going to marry Dante Verducci.”

Papa went still. “Absolutely not.”

She’d expected it, but his instant refusal still stung. “Either give your blessing or excommunicate me.” She stared him down. “Those are your two options. Choose.”

Mama narrowed her eyes, but she put a hand on Papa’s arm. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I love him.” It wasn’t the first time she’d said it aloud, but the admission was still new enough to rock her. The three little words went through her like a bomb going off.

Her mother didn’t move. “You love him enough to choose him over your family?”

“I don’t want to make that choice. I won’t if I don’t have to.”

“Don’t act like anyone is backing you into this corner. You’re there by choice,” Papa snapped.

She took a deep breath. This was so much harder than the conversation with Romeo. Rose didn’t give a fuck what the Capparelli thought of her, but she loved her parents. She didn’t want to have to draw the line in the sand between them, but they were leaving her no choice. “Last night Papa laid out the reasons we couldn’t be together. I’ve negated those reasons. Kirill has entered into an alliance with the Verduccis, and in the process promised not to be a safe harbor for Jovan or his people. Romeo has also agreed to maintain the alliance even if I marry Dante.” No need to get into the Lev business now. That was between her and Romeo.

“He kidnapped you.” Her mother spoke slowly.

“It’s hardly the first time it’s happened in family history.” Rose shrugged. “He’s ruthless and he’s smart and he’s gone for me. More, he’s not from a local family, so there’s no potential shit about favoritism the way there would have been with the Capparellis. It’s a good play.”

Mama narrowed her eyes. “His actions put the family into a tailspin that we’re still struggling to correct. He drew Jovan’s eye.”

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “So you’re going to pretend you didn’t find out Casimir booked his ticket the day before my wedding? Jovan was always going to come for us—for me. Dante has nothing to do with it.”

Papa finally unfroze enough to say. “Nyet, Roza. I will not allow it. He’s made our family look like fools.”

“Like you did with the O’Malleys?” she asked sweetly. “Don’t you think if you and Uncle Aiden can get past several years’ worth of schemes and backstabbing, you should be able to do the same with Dante?”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s exactly the same.” She held his gaze. “You raised me to be just as cunning and ruthless as you are, Papa. You know the lengths you went to get Mama. Do you really think I’ll do any less for the man I want?”

“Why him?” Mama finally sat back. “You could have anyone. Why this man?”

“He’s mine. I won’t have another.”

“It’s not an easy path you’re choosing, daughter.”

She lifted her chin. “I know. But I can handle it. You’ve raised me to be able to handle it.”

Mama and Papa shared one of those loaded looks that contained an entire conversation in a glance. He sighed, the sound resigned. “No one is going to excommunicate you, Roza. We’ll…give our blessing.”

“Danke, Papa.” The tension left her in a rush that made her dizzy. Surely this was too easy? Except it wasn’t over, was it? This was only the first step in a long confrontation. Her and Dante were only part of a larger picture. The entire family was at risk from Jovan and his family. “Shall we go over what to expect tomorrow?”

“Later.” He waved that away. “Go collect your man. If he’s going to be part of the family, we had best get this finished as quickly as possible.”

She frowned. “Finished?”

“Da. There’s only one way Jovan will take this move seriously. Call your man. I’ll call the priest.”

Her thoughts slowed and went still. “You can’t be serious.”

“If this is what you want—who you want—this is the only path forward. Choose, Roza.” He pushed to his feet, and for the first time in her life, her father looked old. “There can be no half measures with Jovan. He’ll capitalize on them and use them against us. Against you. Are you confident enough in this man to marry him tonight?”

Her mouth moved, but no words came out. It felt like she’d barely gotten a grasp on the situation and now it spun out of control yet again, slipping through her fingers. She stared at her father, but Rose couldn’t tell if he was trying to bluff or if this was simply the only way forward he could see. Even after knowing him her entire life, she honestly couldn’t say one way or another.

Part of her balked at being forced to choose so quickly, but…hadn’t she already chosen? The moment she decided to defy her parents and go behind their backs to negotiate with Romeo and Kirill, it was only ever going to end one way between her and Dante. With them at an altar, exchanging vows and rings. “You don’t want to make a public spectacle of the wedding this time?”

“I think it’s best we move quickly. We will hold a reception later on, once things have calmed.”

Really, there was no question as to her answer. Looking back, it was impossible to ignore the thread of fate that seemed to weave between her and Dante from the moment they met. Yes, things had hardly been normal, even for their world, but the connection? Undeniable. She’d told the truth when she’d called him hers. There was absolutely no reason not to make it official for all the world to see. “Very well.”

Papa shook his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing”

“I do.” She even meant it. They would stand against Jovan. That confrontation was always coming, but they were strong. They had allies. They would find a way to prevail. “We’ll see it through.”

“Summon him, then. We’ll get this wrapped up tonight.”

Rose turned and walked out of the office. She felt strange. Happy and yet not at the same time. She and her parents had clashed a number of times over the years, but she’d never felt like they were disappointed in her. It stung. Not enough to change her mind, but she still felt a little sick to her stomach. So much so, she didn’t hear her mother approach until her shoulder brushed Rose’s. “Mama! You startled me.”

Her mother took her hand and tugged her to a stop. “Dima will come around. He just needs time.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t trying to change my mind.”

Mama shrugged. “I have eyes, Roza. You’ve been gone for that man since before you knew who he was.” She smiled faintly. “You’ve also outmaneuvered your father to claim Dante as your own. I might have my doubts in him, but I don’t doubt you. If you chose him, there’s more that I’m not seeing.” She glanced back at the office door. “I made a choice like that a long time ago, too, and my family didn’t understand at the time. They came around. Your father will, too.”

Relief made her a little dizzy. “Thank you.”

“I’m proud of you, Roza. This might not be the path I would have chosen for you, but you’re strong enough to carve your own way.” Mama pulled her into a quick hug. “Now, let’s get moving.”

Rose hurried upstairs. She powered on her phone and her eyes went wide as a string of texts and voicemails came through. Instead of reading them all, she called him.

Dante picked up on the first ring. “Rosa. Are you okay? When I couldn’t get a hold of you—”

“Yes. No. Yes. I don’t know.” Her heart was beating too fast, and she felt like she’d just run a marathon. “I took care of Romeo. He agreed to my terms.”

He exhaled harshly. “Did he give you any trouble?”

Yes, but not in the way he meant. “No. It was remarkably civil considering everything.”

“Bene.” A weighted pause. “Why do you sound so strange?”

Here they went. This was the moment when everything could fall apart or come together into a spectacular finale. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to marry me, d’yavol?”

“Si.” No hesitation. No doubt.

She closed her eyes. “My father called a priest. If we mean to do this, it has to be as soon as possible.”

Part of her expected him to push back, to argue, to do something to sow doubt. She really should have known better by now. Dante simply said, “I’m at the airport. I’ll be there in a little over six hours.”

“Dante.”

“Si?”

“I love you.” She whispered the words, but as she spoke, the strength came back into her words. “I know I just threw it out there before because I was scared, but…it’s the truth. I really do love you.”

“I know,” he said. She gasped, and he laughed. “You would have killed me already if you didn’t. Ti amo, amata. I love you, too. Now, tell your people to stand down so this love story doesn’t end with a bullet.”

Sheer giddiness made her punch drunk. “It started with one.”

“No, it started long before that.” He paused. “I’ll see you soon, Rosa.”

Chapter 26

Dante arrived at the Romanov household after midnight, but it seemed every window was lit from within. He’d barely knocked on the door when Rose flung it open and threw herself into his arms. “D’yavol.”

“Amata.” He hugged her tightly, inhaling her rich scent and enjoying the feel of her in his arms again. This time, they wouldn’t be parted. He nudged her back and took in her green dress, tired eyes, and happy smile. “Are you sure?” Foolish of him to ask the question now, when poised right to get what he wanted most, but even more than marrying Rose, he didn’t want her to regret this.

Her smile widened. “I’m sure.”

Then there was nothing else to say. Not until they were truly alone. “Then take me to this priest.”

Things happened quickly after that. He barely got a look at the hulking Vasily before Rose hauled him into a lovely sitting room. Or it would have been lovely if it weren’t filled with murderous-looking Romanovs. Lorelei wasn’t present, but Rose’s other two sisters and parents were there, all staring at him with cold eyes that promised pain and death should he let down Rose.

He could have told them it was a nonissue. He was about to get exactly what he wanted. He would allow absolutely nothing to jeopardize it. And once Rose put his ring on her finger? He pressed his hand to his pocket. No one would touch her. He’d ensure it.

He squeezed Rose’s hand, and she shot him a happy smile. “Ready?”

“Si.” He’d never been readier for anything in his life. Everything had brought them to this point, and if there would be trials to come—and there would with Jovan Romanov breathing down their necks—then they’d face them together.

The door opened behind them, and an old Black man in priest’s clothing walked in, followed by a white woman in an ill-fitting suit. She held a folder in her hands and looked around. “Who’s the happy couple?”

Rose towed Dante to the woman. “It’s us.”

“I have paperwork for you to sign.” She set it down on the coffee table and started to explain the prenup.

“It’s fine,” Dante cut in. “Where do I sign?”

Rose shot him an exasperated look. “You should read it first. I might be demanding your kidney.”

“A small price to pay.”

She smiled but the expression fell away far too quickly. “Seriously, Dante. You should read it.

“It’s not necessary. We’re not getting divorced.” He took the pen and signed the page the woman indicated. Next was the paperwork to be filed to make the marriage legal. They were taking no chances tonight. He liked that. He didn’t think Rose would change her mind, not now that she admitted she loved him and had put herself on this course, but he would be lying if he said a part of him didn’t relax at the knowledge that this would be set in stone.

Rose shook her head but signed as well. “You’re so damn sure of everything.”

“Aren’t you?”

She smiled a little. “I don’t have to be sure of everything. I’m sure of you.”

The woman looked over the papers “Everything is finished. I’ll file these first thing in the morning.”

Dmitri Romanov nodded. “As soon as they’re filed, your debt is paid.”

The woman looked a little green as she nodded, her voice shaky. “It’s, uh, a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Romanov.”

“Vasily will show you out.”

As soon as she left the room, Dmitri motioned at the priest. “Your turn, Father Michael.”

Rose and Dante approached the priest together, holding hands, and it felt so fucking right. No one was handing this woman off to him. She’d chosen him of her own free will, against odds that had seemed insurmountable a few weeks ago. Dante had never doubted they’d end up exactly in this place, but he still felt almost drunk on the reality of it. As the priest began to speak while the Romanov family looked on, he couldn’t take his eyes off Rose’s face.

She looked tired and happy and more beautiful than ever.

She looked like his wife.

“The rings.”

He pulled the one out of his pocket. Rose frowned a little at the sight of the emerald. “You already have a ring?”

“Don’t you?”

She grinned. “Guilty.” She held up a thick silver ring. “I picked it up in a little after-hours shopping spree.”

“This was my mother’s.” He slipped the ring onto Rose’s third finger, easing it slowly on. It was a perfect fit. “It was the only thing of value she kept. The only thing she passed down to me.”

“Dante,” she whispered.

“I think she would have liked you.” Impossible to truly know, but his mother had been strong and doing her best. Surely she would be happy to see him married to a woman who did the same.

Rose’s hands shook as she put his ring on. A perfect fit, which had him raising his brows. “No going back now.”

“There never was.”

The priest cleared his throat. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

For once in his life, Dante decided to play it safe and press a mostly chaste kiss to his new bride’s lips. It would be a shame to spend his wedding night bleeding from a bullet wound courtesy of one of his new family members, after all.

They turned to face the room, and while it wasn’t the most joyful reception, no one had their guns or knives out. It would do. Keira Romanov approached first. She pulled Rose into a hug and then moved to him. “I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful husband to my daughter.” She pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks and moved away. A subtle threat, that. Rose must take after Dmitri in that regard.

Sure enough, he was the next to approach. He also hugged Rose and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Only then did he turn his attention to Dante. “You’re a long way from home, and I have no problem making my daughter a widow if the situation calls for it. Remember that.”

Dante shrugged. “It won’t be necessary.” Normally, he’d bristle at the threat, but his mood was too light at the moment. Her father and the others would come around. He didn’t really give a fuck what they thought of him, but it would upset Rose if he became a wedge between her and her family. He’d won her over; he’d do the same with her parents and sisters. Eventually.

Anya came next, a sleek blond predator dressed in pants and a loose button-down shirt that showed off a slice of her chest. Of the Romanov daughters, she looked the most like Rose, even with the different hair. She squeezed Rose’s hand and eyed Dante. “Watch your back.”

Finally, it was the last sister’s turn. Sasha. She had tear tracks down her pretty face, but he couldn’t tell if they were happy tears or mourning tears. She grabbed his arm, her grip fiercer than he expected. “You keep my sister safe, do you hear me?”

“Sasha.”

He ignored his new wife and focused on her sister. “No one will touch her. I promise.”

She searched his face for a long moment and then nodded. “Good. That’s good.” The barest hesitation and then she released him and moved away.

Just like that, it was finished. No one seemed overeager to linger, which suited Dante just fine. He wanted to be alone with Rose. When she finally took his hand, he marveled to find himself trembling a little. This was really happening. They’d gone too far to turn back now. That was his ring on her finger and hers on his.

Husband. Wife.

She led him out of the sitting room and down a long dark hall to a set of stairs. He should have taken in the details, but he was too focused on her. At least until she opened a door on the second floor and ushered him inside. “I don’t know what living arrangements will look like long term, but we need to stay here in the meantime.”

He stepped into her room and looked around. The room was a treasure chest of Rose. A vanity stood against one wall with an overlarge mirror and every bit of space filled with more makeup than one woman could possibly use, though it looked like she used it regularly. A feat, that. Her bed was large and covered with a lush, deep-green comforter and a scattering of pillows. There appeared to be a sitting area with two chairs, but it was hard to tell beneath two massive piles of clothing. Two doorways led into a walk-in closet and a bathroom with a decent-sized shower and a tub.

Dante walked back into the bedroom. “Your family isn’t going to thank me for whisking you away the first chance I get.”

“No, they won’t.” She searched his face. “But it’s also not going to be comfortable living with them for who knows how long. They’re rather angry with me right now.”

He shrugged. “They’ll get over it. This is your home. I’m not going to take you from it.” She’d be safer here in the coming confrontation, and it also eliminated the risk of someone deciding to undermine her authority because she wasn’t present. No matter how pissed her family was, they loved her. Once they realized he loved her as well, they’d get over it.

If they didn’t? He was more than capable of handling it.

Rose didn’t seem so sure. “I don’t think Anya is going to stab you, but…”

“Amata.” He crossed to her and pulled her into his arms. “I am here for you and you alone. I can deal with your family, attempted stabbings, or no. You’re the heir of this family, and you need to be here. I can handle it.”

She ran her hands up his chest. “I’d say you’re too good to be true, but there was the kidnapping.”

“Si.” He backed toward the bed, taking her with him. “Though you started it when you shot me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She unbuttoned his shirt, and he let go of her long enough for her to slide the fabric over his shoulders and down his arms. She touched the scar on his shoulder. “It’s barbaric, but I like that you wear my marks.”

Desire shot through him with a strength that staggered him. He took her hand and pressed it to the scar fully. “I was yours from long before the moment you pulled the trigger.”

“We’re so fucked up,” she whispered.

“No.” He cupped her face with one hand. “We’re twisted so perfectly that we balance each other in a way other people could never accomplish. You’re mine, amata. I’m yours.”

Rose turned her face and kissed his palm. “Husband.”

“Wife.”

She stepped back and reached down to grip the hem of her green dress. One smooth move and it was on the floor next to her, leaving her in a pair of matching black bra and panties. “Tomorrow we have a meeting with Vladimir Romanov.”

Dante sat on the bed and cupped her hips, urging her closer. “He will make threats. You will make your own threats. It will end in an impasse.”

“Da.” She straddled him and pushed him back to lie flat on the mattress. “It’s the opening move in a chess match between us.” A line appeared between her perfect brows. “I don’t know what happens next, d’yavol. There’s a reason we avoid war at all costs. The price is too high.”

“You have nothing to worry about, amata.” He bent up and kissed her. “You have the devil on your side. I’ll keep you safe.”

She smiled against his lips. “And my family? My people? My territory?”

“Don’t you know how powerful the devil is?” He stroked a hand up her spine and cupped the back of her neck. “There are more alliances to consider and more plays to make. You’re smart and you’re ruthless, and Jovan Romanov has bitten off more than he can chew by fucking with you and your family.” He kissed her hard. “We will prevail.”

“I love you, Dante.”

He rolled her, moving them up the mattress enough that he could settle between her thighs. “I love you, too, Rose. Amata. Wife. Forever.”

Epilogue

Sasha hadn’t been invited to the meeting with Vladimir Romanov. She was never invited to the tense meetings Rose and Anya and even Lorelei attended at times. Well, not Lorelei any longer. Not with her sister married off to a Capparelli.

If her family members were left to their own devices, they wouldn’t tell Sasha anything. They were too worried about bruising her or hurting her feelings. She couldn’t help that she worried about them, that tears got the best of her when her emotions were high. Now that Rose had married Dante Verducci…

Sasha’s family wouldn’t ask her for help. They’d be too busy protecting her to consider her an asset, and she wasn’t even sure they were wrong. The temptation to hide in her room until this was all over was nearly overwhelming. She couldn’t do it, though. She wouldn’t.

Which was why she was currently crouched on the other side of the door to the sitting room where her parents and Rose were holding the meeting. Not the one in the hall, where anyone could catch her. The door that went from one sitting room to another. They never used it, so no one thought to worry about eavesdroppers from this direction.

She pressed her ear to the door, closing her eyes to focus better on the conversation in Russian going on in the other room.

“My daughter can speak for herself.” Sasha instantly recognized her father’s terse tone.

“And yet I’m speaking to you, man to man.” A stranger. That must be Vladimir Romanov. Sasha shuddered at how cold he sounded.

Rose cleared her throat, and only someone familiar with her would recognize how furious she was when she spoke. “Marriage is off the table, Vladimir. To me or any of my sisters. I’m prepared to believe Casimir acted on his own…as long as he’s called home to Russian immediately.”

“You’re a foolish girl, aren’t you?” Vladimir didn’t sound impressed. “You don’t decide when we’re done, Rose Romanov. Jovan does.”

“You aren’t welcome in our territory.”

He laughed, a dry sound that made Sasha shiver. “Why would I need to stay here? New York is a short enough flight from Texas. Our welcome there will be considerably warmer. Ivan knows his place.”

“He wouldn’t,” Papa said.

“Wouldn’t he?”

Surely her father was right… Wasn’t he?

They were on good terms with Ivan. Better than either of the other Romanov branches in the country. Surely he wouldn’t allow Vladimir and his people to set up a base there, knowing it would be to the detriment of Papa?

Sasha moved away from the door and quietly left the room. Ivan might not, but his second-in-command would. Even being mostly left out of the business talk, she knew Ivan’s son-in-law wasn’t on the same good terms with Papa. He’d wanted Rose to marry one of his men, and when she’d refused, he held a grudge.

A horrible feeling took root in Sasha, and she hurried up the stairs to her room. She’d heard the reasons why Papa didn’t want Rose to marry Dante Verducci. Among them was the risk that Kirill would allow Jovan’s people to come and go through his territory. If there was a way to stop it from happening in Texas…

She had to do it.

There was no one else.

Her heart beat too hard as she scrolled through her phone to a contact she’d never used. Jiri Petrov. Ivan’s son-in-law and second-in-command. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit the call button.

He answered on the second ring. “Da?”

“Jiri? It’s Sasha Romanov.”

Silence for a beat. “Sasha. What a surprise. What brings this call?”

Her throat tried to close, but she focused on breathing past it. It was all in her head. Throats didn’t actually close, not outside of an anaphylactic reaction, which she most assuredly was not having. “That deal you gave my sister? An alliance for a marriage to one of your men?”

“Da? What about it? Your father said no.”

Her vision swam, but she made herself speak the words that would save her family while damning her in the process. “I would like to renegotiate.”

Glossary

This is a quick reference guide for the main players in the world of both the O’Malleys series and the Scandalous Scions series, as well as a little history from the O’Malleys series for those who haven’t read it or would like a refresher. This is also meant to function as a more accessible way to see the information on the family trees at the beginning of the book.

Some of the entries have spoilers for the O’Malleys series. You will also find links to the books themselves if you’re interested in checking them out.

The reading order for The O’Malleys series is:

The Marriage Contract

The Wedding Pact

An Indecent Proposal

Forbidden Promises

Undercover Attraction

The Bastard’s Bargain

The New York Romanovs

Andrei Romanov: Former head of the Romanov family. Deceased.

Rasia Romanov: Andrei’s wife. Deceased.

Dmitri Romanov: Son of Andrei and Rasia. Head of the New York Romanov family. Played the part of a villain to the O’Malleys after his engagement with Carrigan was called off, until he married Keira. His story is told in The Bastard’s Bargain.

Keira Romanov/O’Malley: Seventh child of Seamus and Aileen O’Malley. Married Dmitri in an attempt to avoid a war between the Romanovs and O’Malleys. Recovering alcoholic. Her story is told in The Bastard’s Bargain.

Rose Romanov: Eldest daughter of Dmitri and Keira. Heir to the New York Romanov family.

Sasha Romanov: Second daughter of Dmitri and Keira.

Anya Romanov: Third daughter of Dmitri and Keira.

Lorelei Romanov: Fourth daughter of Dmitri and Keira.

Amal Rashidi: Andrei’s mistress. Deceased.

Olivia Rashidi/O’Malley: Daughter of Andrei and Amal. Married to Cillian O’Malley. Attempted to escape the Romanov family and Sergei by moving to Boston with her daughter, where she fell in love with Cillian O’Malley. Sergei followed and created an incident, which resulted in Dmitri bargaining for the opportunity to be in his niece’s life even after Olivia stayed in Boston. Her story is told in An Indecent Proposal.

Sergei Utkin: Former top enforcer to Dmitri. Olivia’s ex. Hadley’s father. Deceased.

Hadley Rashidi/O’Malley: Daughter of Olivia and Sergei. Adopted by Cillian O’Malley when she was five.

Verducci Family

Lorenzo Verducci: Head of the Verducci family.

Carla Verducci: Wife of Lorenzo. Deceased.

Matteo Verducci: Only child of Lorenzo and Carla. Heir to the Verducci family.

Elia Verducci: Sister of Lorenzo. Was kicked out of the family when she got pregnant with Dante. Died of a drug overdose fourteen years later. Deceased.

Dante Verducci: Only child of Elia.

Capparelli Family

Romeo Capparelli IV: Former head of the Capparelli family. Deceased.

Viola Capparelli: Wife of Romeo. Deceased.

Romeo Capparelli V: Son of Romeo and Viola. Current head of the Capparelli family.

Drucilla Capparelli: Daughter of Romeo and Viola. Has some kind of history with Lev Romanov.

Fabian Capparelli: Second son of Romeo and Viola.

The O’Malley Family

Seamus O’Malley: Former head of the O’Malley family. A harsh man who moved his children about like pawns.

Aileen O’Malley: Wife of Seamus. Hard in her own way. She was the soft touch to manipulate her children as needed. Always looking at the bigger picture.

Aiden O’Malley: Head of the O’Malley family. Oldest child of Seamus and Aileen. Married to Charlie Finch, former cop. He’s just as ruthless as his parents, but has worked hard to carve a different future for his kids. Father of Maeve and Cael. His story is told in Undercover Attraction.

Carrigan O’Malley: Second child of Seamus and Aileen. Broke her engagement to Dmitri Romanov in order to pursue a relationship with James Halloran. Now runs a nonprofit that focuses on combating human trafficking. Her story is told in The Wedding Pact.

Teague O’Malley: Third child of Seamus and Aileen. Never wanted to be in the life, but was ordered to marry Callista Sheridan to secure a Sheridan-O’Malley alliance. Arguably the most dangerous of his siblings because there’s no lengths he won’t go to for the people he cares about. His story is told in The Marriage Contract.

Cillian O’Malley: Fourth child of Seamus and Aileen. The tech guy and money man. He used to be a wild child, but the death of his little brother changed everything for him. Married to Olivia Rashidi. His story is told in An Indecent Proposal.

Devlin O’Malley: Sixth child of Seamus and Aileen. Shot in a drive-by during a conflict with the Hallorans. Deceased.

Charlie Finch/O’Malley: Daughter of FBI agent John Finch. Former cop. Entered into a fake relationship with Aiden O’Malley in order to get revenge on Dmitri Romanov. Her story is told in Undercover Attraction.

Maeve O’Malley: First child of Aiden and Charlie.

Cael O’Malley: Second child of Aiden and Charlie. After engaging in an illicit affair with a senator’s wife, she broke things off. Once she became a widow, they made things official. Married to Eleanor McKinley. His story is told in Last Christmas, a short story in the Meet Me Under the Mistletoe anthology.

Henry O’Malley: Third child of Cillian and Olivia.

Sheridan Family

Colm Sheridan: Former head of the Sheridan family. Deceased.

Sorcha Sheridan: Sister of Colm.

Moira Sheridan: Wife of Colm. Deceased.

Ronan Sheridan: First child of Colm and Moira. Killed in a car crash. Deceased.

Callista Sheridan: Second child of Colm and Moira. After her brother’s death, she was initially engaged to Brendan Halloran to secure a Sheridan-Halloran alliance. She shot and killed him, and her father immediately moved her engagement to Teague O’Malley. Her story is told in The Marriage Contract.

Moira Sheridan-O’Malley: First child of Teague and Callista.

Devlin Sheridan-O’Malley: Second child of Teague and Callista.

Gwendolyn Sheridan-O’Malley: Third child of Teague and Callista.

MacNamara Family

Jude MacNamara: One of only two surviving MacNamaras after Colm Sheridan slaughtered the entire family. His mother escaped with him and raised him to get revenge on the Sheridans, one by one. He was one of the best hitmen in the game before he met Sloan O’Malley and fell in love with her. Now he’s a private investigator. His story is told in Forbidden Promises.

Sloan O’Malley/MacNamara: Fifth child of Seamus and Aileen O’Malley. Ran from her family and ended up on the other side of the country…right next door to a hitman out for blood. Married to Jude MacNamara. They moved back to Boston several years after living in a small town, but don’t partake in any of the illegal activities. Her story is told in Forbidden Promises.

Grady MacNamara: First child of Jude and Sloan.

Nora MacNamara: Second child of Jude and Sloan.

Halloran Family

Victor Halloran: Former head of the Halloran family. Deceased.

Elizabeth Halloran: Wife of Victor. Deceased.

Brendan Halloran: First child of Victor and Elizabeth. He was shot by Callista Sheridan after attacking her. Deceased.

James Halloran: Second child of Victor and Elizabeth. He tried to skirt the edges of what his father wanted and what was the right thing to do. After kidnapping Carrigan O’Malley, and subsequently allowing her to escape, she was the only thing he wanted. Their forbidden affair came to a head and started the conflict with Dmitri Romanov and the O’Malley family. His story is told in The Wedding Pact.

Ricky Halloran: Third child of Victor and Elizabeth. He was killed during a conflict with James and Dmitri Romanov. Deceased.

Houston Romanov Family

Ivan Romanov: Cousin to Dmitri Romanov. Head of the Houston Romanov family.

Natasha Romanov: Ivan’s wife.

Jiri Petrov: Ivan’s second-in-command and son-in-law.

Seattle Romanov Family

Sasha Romanov: Cousin to Dmitri Romanov. He is head of the Seattle Romanov family.

LA Romanov Family

Kirill Romanov: Cousin to Dmitri Romanov. Head of the LA Romanov family.

Vera Romanov: Wife of Kirill.

Vasilisa Romanov: Second child of Kirill and Vera.

Russian Romanov Family

Vladimir Romanov VI: Former head of the Russian Romanov family.

Katia Romanov: Vladimir VI’s wife.

Jovan Romanov: First child of Vladimir VI and Katia. Head of Russian Romanov family.

Artem Romanov: Second child of Vladimir VI and Katia. The overseer of general operations in Russia for the family. The muscle.

Jacek Romanov: Third child of Vladimir VI and Katia. The money man as far as everyone else is concerned.

Oksana Romanov: Wife of Jovan.

Lenka Romanov: Wife of Artem.

Shur Romanov: Wife of Jacek. The actual brains behind the money operations.

Konrad Romanov: First child of Jovan and Oksana. Heir to the Russian Romanov family.

Vladimir Romanov VII: Second child of Jovan and Oksana. He’s the one sent when there are negotiations to be had outside of Russia.

Natalia Romanov: Third child of Jovan and Oksana.

Casimir Romanov: First child of Artem and Lenka. The Mad Wolf. The fixer Jovan sends when he wants to make an example of someone.

Alexi Romanov: Second child of Artem and Lenka.

Tatiana Romanov: Third child of Artem and Lenka.

Lev Romanov: Fourth child of Artem and Lenka. Has some kind of history with Drucilla Capperelli.

Alina Romanov: Fifth child of Artem and Lenka.

Magdalena Romanov: First child of Jacek and Shur. Is trained by her mother in the money business, though she expects her uncle will marry her off to some man who will be the “real” money man at some point.

Nikolai Romanov: Second child of Jacek and Shur.

Katia Romanov: Third child of Jacek and Shur.

About the Author

Katee Robert is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. Entertainment Weekly calls her writing “unspeakably hot.” Her books have sold over a million copies. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, children, a cat who thinks he’s a dog, and two Great Danes who think they’re lap dogs.

www.kateerobert.com

Keep up to date on all new release and sale info by joining Katee’s NEWSLETTER!

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Table of Contents

- Cover
- Full Page Image
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Contents
- Also by Katee Robert
- Content Warning
- Author’s Note
- The New York Romanov Family Tree
- The Verducci & Capparelli Family Trees
- The O’Malley Family Tree
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Epilogue
- Glossary
- About the Author