When Vanessa walks out, I push down every emotion struggling to break free to focus only on the anger.
Anger I can handle.
The rest I’m not equipped for because they’re either too debilitating or too new.
Fuck the fear, the panic, the sadness, the loss, and everything else bubbling up inside of me. Missing her before she even leaves the building doesn’t make any fucking sense. Whatever we had together, I can feel the bonds of our fucked-up relationship being severed, the knife currently sawing right down the middle. Being physically disconnected from Vanessa hurts like hell.
There’s nothing I can do or say to change her mind. No matter how much she cares for me, everything changed today when I put her son’s life in danger.
To think she would even accuse me of dragging him there on purpose as payback for Madison blows my mind. I thought she knew me better than that. I thought she understood me, that she accepted that my viciousness was a necessity for surviving and keeping everyone I care about alive.
I bared my fucking soul to Vanessa. For the first time in my life, I let someone see all of me, the good and the bad in the hopes that she would still want me. To have her allege that it was all a manipulation and not mutual, genuine affection on her part is fucking infuriating.
And I really want to take my rage out on someone else since I can’t take it out on her.
Finally confronting Eli who is still waiting silently in the foyer, I tell him, “Pack your shit and take it with you when you drop off…her things tomorrow morning.” God, I can’t even say her fucking name. “If I see you in this city again, I’ll put a bullet through your skull.”
“You’re kicking me out because Vanessa left you?” Hearing those words aloud is somehow even more devastating than thinking them.
Walking up to him, I press both palms to his chest to shove him backward into the wall at his back. “I’m kicking you out because you ran your goddamn mouth!”
“Don’t you think she would’ve figured it out soon enough? You’re going to war with Kozlov. Everyone will be able to figure out the bomb was retaliation. You’ll need my help, even if you won’t admit it, just like Vanessa won’t admit she’s in love with you. You’re both so damn stubborn…”
“Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” I growl in his face in warning. “And the only man she will ever love is her son.”
“Come on, Dante. Your girls will always come before anything else, even Vanessa, so don’t be pissed at her for caring about the kid more than you. And you can’t honestly say that you’ve completely forgiven her for giving Madison a nudge out the door.”
Dammit, I hate when he’s right about shit.
“This conversation is over,” I tell him. “Find out…” I start before remembering that he’s no longer my employee. “Forget it. I’ll make the calls myself.”
First things, first, I need a shower, then I’ll get an update on the casualties from the bombing. I find it hard to believe that Kozlov would be stupid and reckless enough to take out a room full of celebrities to get to me. That’s why I want to know what the investigators find at the scene. If there’s proof it was Kozlov, then I’ll slice off every inch of his fucking flesh for Frank and all the other victims. He will pay for what he did, even if it means risking retaliation from Kozlov’s boss, Yuri Petrov. In fact, I may as well start at the top of the ladder and work my way down, while they least expect it.
I was born in Vegas. It’s my goddamn city, and I’ll be damned if I let them paint the streets with blood.
If I had to bet, Petrov is the one who could be behind it all, using Kozlov’s missing enforcers as an excuse to finally come at me like he’s wanted to do since my father died.
Petrov’s mainly only dealt in heroin and whores which is why we stay out of each other’s way. Maybe he’s trying to branch out, maybe mix up his H with other shit… like fentanyl to make birria?
Son of a motherfucking bitch.
I’m his biggest competition for fentanyl. For the past nine years, I’ve overseen the west coast’s pipeline of transportation and distribution from China to Mexico. Then there’s Lochlan, an only child like me, whose family has always had a lock on running the biggest brothel empire in the world. The two of us are all that’s standing in his way of being the west coast’s king of drugs and pussy.
Tonight, he tried his best to kill two mob bosses with one stone and missed.
I almost wish I could be in the room to see Petrov’s face when he finds out I’m still alive and so is Lochlan, that all he got for his trouble was a world of law enforcement coming after him for killing innocent victims. Not to mention Lochlan’s wrath for all the fingers that will point at him as being responsible for not preventing the bomb.
But seeing Petrov and Kozlov behind bars isn’t enough. They need to die. Slowly. And I’m more than happy to oblige them.
Planning how to take them down will be a much welcome distraction from missing Vanessa.
Vanessa
We still have twenty-eight days together.
I add it up and…he’s right. There were technically twenty-eight days left as part of our agreement.
With everything going on, I’m not sure why I’m so hung up on those damn twenty-eight days. I sure as hell don’t feel guilty for leaving early. It’s just…why would Dante know the exact number of days left off the top of his head like that? I should be the one counting them down, marking the calendar, eager to be done with him since I never wanted any part of this arrangement to begin with.
The way he sounded when he threw out the number of days left, it was almost like he was keeping track because he didn’t want them to end.
“Mom, are you sure you’re okay?” Cole asks as I drive us back to my apartment, snapping me out of my mental math. It’s the first time I’ve been inside of my car, or behind the wheel of any vehicle, in weeks. Since the night I went in to work as a waitress and ended up as a prisoner.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. Even if my first taste of freedom isn’t as wonderful as I imagined it would be that first night of our deal.
“You know what happened wasn’t Dante’s fault, right?”
My fingers curled around the steering wheel tighten. “He may not have known about the bomb, but he knew there would be consequences.”
“There’s no way he could’ve anticipated these consequences, right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about him anymore.” I blow out a breath trying to expel him from my mind, my heart, and my soul, and fail hard. “I’m sorry your weekend with your friends was ruined.”
“If anything, after such a close call, I think we all have a new appreciation for life, how short it can be, you know? I don’t want to waste any time on bullshit.”
“Well, I’m glad something good came from something so bad. I’m sorry I put you and your friends in that position.”
“Will you please stop apologizing? You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Mom. If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”
“To me? Why?” I spare a quick glance at him before my eyes return to the road.
“I’m sorry I’m the reason that you ended things with Dante.”
“It wasn’t your fault. It’s for the best. He’s…he’s not a good man. He’s murdered people. That’s the reason I left. I would’ve been out the door as soon as I found out about him killing the Russian enforcers, so the breakup doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
Cole chuckles. “Why did those particular murders bother you so much? You had to have known that Dante had blood on his hands before. That didn’t stop you from holding them.”
“I…I was stupid. We shouldn’t be having a conversation about the man I was with murdering people. It’s insane! God, love can make you so damn blind…” As soon as I realize the words I just spoke, I pinch my lips together, wanting them back. “That…that’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” Cole asks. “You love him, even if he’s a murdering mobster. It’s okay to admit it, Mom. Despite who he is or has to be, you still found a way to love him. If I had to guess, not many people have made the same choice when it comes to Dante Salvato. Most people cower at just the mention of his name, and rightfully so. But there’s more to him than his worst traits.”
“Not when his ‘worst trait’ is murdering people!”
“So, he’s not perfect. It’s still possible to love him or want him or whatever you two were. It’s not like I have any experience, so maybe I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. All I’m trying to say is that you seemed different with Dante. I thought you were actually happy for once. Less tense for sure, like you felt safe with him.”
Scoffing, I ask, “How could I ever feel safe with a murderous bastard?”
“Because you’ve always been wound tight, on edge, afraid of, well, I don’t know what, right? But you looked…peaceful with him, even if he was a dangerous gangster. Maybe because he was a dangerous gangster.”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I say, “You think I looked peaceful with a dangerous gangster?”
“You were, weren’t you? And I get it. He would probably do anything to keep you safe.”
“Dante would’ve locked me away in his personal prison and thrown away the key so I could never escape. He would’ve suffocated me until I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“If so, then his reasons would be sound, obviously, after what happened tonight. He’s not being paranoid or overly protective for the hell of it.”
“No, I guess not,” I concede. “Dante has lost a lot of people in the past, including all three of his daughters’ mothers.”
“All of them?” Cole asks in disbelief.
“Yes. One died in a shooting, another after childbirth, then one just vanished and is presumed dead.”
“Damn. No wonder he’s so neurotic. That’s a lot of innocent women dying around him. Now with the casino bombing…”
“He brought that on himself,” I declare.
“Really, Mom? That’s the equivalent of saying that a girl was asking for it when she wore a short skirt and got assaulted. Dante made his own choices, sure, but he’s not responsible for how others reacted to those choices.”
“He knew what he did would cause problems, and he did it anyway! He’s partially responsible for the fallout.”
“And he probably feels like shit for that, unlike the people responsible. Not to mention he almost died.”
Before a few weeks ago, I never would’ve believed that Dante was capable of feeling guilt or sorrow for other people’s suffering. Now, I know he has a soul that dreads the violence, even if another part of him will always enjoy it. Men like Dante Salvato thrive on being in control of the chaos.
And I hate to admit that I was even attracted to that aspect of him as much as anything else. Dante’s ruthlessness is hot. Was hot. Which means there is something seriously wrong with me.
When Cole and I finally get home and walk inside the apartment flipping on lights, it feels so empty. I thought I had missed my own place, my sofa, the place I’m most comfortable, but now it’s just lonely. Not that Mitch’s absence makes it less lonely. That’s how I felt even when he lived here. If anything, I’m glad he’s not here, that I won’t have to deal with him again, thanks to Dante.
After I put on my pajamas, Cole and I both sit on the sofa to watch the news for updates about the explosion.
There’s nothing left of an entire side of the Emerald Paradise casino where the event was being held, just a giant, black crater in the earth.
Twenty-two poor souls were killed, at least half of them well-known faces throughout the world. Thirteen more were badly hurt after being buried in the debris or receiving serious injuries.
I had no idea the bomb was that bad. Yes, I knew that there was an explosion and that Dante’s guard, Frank, had died to save him and Lochlan. Since Cole, Dante, and Eli were all unharmed I guess I thought it wasn’t so bad. It turns out, they were just really fucking lucky.
The next morning, Cole and I are up bright and early to get him on a flight to New York before any other catastrophes happen in Vegas. I was surprised but grateful to find my boxes of things stacked along the railing in front of my apartment. Cole helped me toss it all inside before we left.
On the way to the airport, the roads are empty since it’s Sunday and everyone in town was probably up late last night.
“School starts soon, right?” I ask a sleepy-eyed Cole slouched in the passenger seat.
“Yeah, in three weeks. I’m going to try to get in as many hours as I can at work before then.”
Work? That’s when a thought occurs to me.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter. “I have to go back to work at the casino tomorrow. And keep working there until I find another job.”
I had been hoping to avoid the Royal Palace at all costs, avoiding Dante. That’s impossible when bills will be coming due soon enough, no longer paid by the mafia king.
“Another job?”
“I sure as shit can’t keep working for Dante. Ugh, even being in this city is too close to him.”
“If you’re so adamant about getting away from him, you could always move to New York.”
“It may be time to relocate.” I’ve done it enough over the years. At least I won’t have to feel guilty about dragging Cole with me, enrolling him in a new school to start all over. “I’m just not sure if I want it to be New York. Besides, you would hate having me intrude on the life you’ve built there.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding on my life,” he replies. “And the university is always looking to hire. If you insist on staying in the food service industry, there are tons of restaurants and bars around campus.”
“Insist on staying in the food service industry?” I repeat. “You say that like I have a choice in my profession.”
“You could do so much more, Mom. You’re smart and hardworking. I never understood why you stick to the shitty, low-level jobs, that don’t pay much.”
He wouldn’t understand because I’ve never told him that while my experience is limited, laying low is essential for me. For us. I prefer to blend in with the background, not stand out. And I was excelling at that until Dante Salvato rode a wrecking ball straight into my life.
“I prefer to just be an employee, not supervise anyone. That’s as far as I could even go if I wanted to,” I explain to him.
“Well, one day soon I’m going to start my own company and be rich enough that you can quit work, and finally just relax for once. You’ve worked your ass off every day since I was born.”
“I like to stay busy,” I assure him. “But it’s sweet to know you’ll think of me when you become a wealthy snob.”
Cole chuckles at that. “You fit right in with the wealthy snobs at Dante’s. The peacefulness there could’ve been from not having to work and constantly being pampered.”
“I wasn’t constantly pampered.” I huff. “Just occasionally.”
“Admit that you miss it.”
“Fine, I miss some parts of the millionaire lifestyle. Just not the mobster one. Never that one.”
