DANTE
I didn’t need to visit D.C.
I could’ve conducted my business there virtually, but I
welcomed the break from the strained atmosphere at home. I also took the opportunity to check in on Christian, whom I’d tasked with a new project on top of the Francis situation.
He lounged on the couch opposite me, his eyes cool. We were in the library of his downtown penthouse, and we’d spent the past hour discussing Valhalla, business, and security. But judging by his expression, he was still pissed about what happened in the lobby earlier.
I’d merely kissed the hand of one of his neighbors—one whom he seemed to have a special interest in.
It wasn’t every day I saw Christian Harper agonize over a woman, and I’d be damned if I let it slide without fucking with him.
He’d get over it. They weren’t even dating.
“Heath Arnett. CEO of a cloud storage startup that’s going public at the end of this year,” he said now. He lifted an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about cloud storage?”
The mention of Heath’s name wiped away my amusement at Christian’s response to a simple hand kiss.
I thought about you at midnight. Love, Heath.
Something dark and unwanted snaked through my chest.
“Don’t play dumb.” I tossed back the rest of my drink and set the crystal tumbler on a nearby side table. “Did you find anything good?”
I’d asked Christian to look into Heath’s background. It’d taken him no time to figure out Heath’s full name, as well as everything about the man’s work, family, and hobbies.
Standard middle-class American upbringing. Undergrad at Columbia, where Heath met Vivian. A rising career as a software developer before he founded a startup that was currently going gangbusters.
But that was the shiny, top-level stuff. I wanted the seedy underbelly.
Christian smiled. Few things animated him more than ripping the skeletons out of someone’s closet. “There’s a chance he may have been involved in questionable activities leading to the growth of his company. Not criminal, but questionable. Enough it could severely impact the performance of their IPO.”
“Good. Take care of it before they go public.”
I reached for the water next to my empty scotch, but it did nothing to soothe the burn in my blood.
“Of course.” Christian watched me, an amused gleam creeping into his amber eyes. “You never answered my earlier question. Why do you care so much about this Heath? It can’t possibly be because he’s Vivian’s ex- boyfriend. The man she was madly in love with until her parents made her break up with him because he didn’t come from Russo-level money.” Christian swirled his drink in his glass. “Heard he sent her roses after New Year’s. Nice ones.”
The burn intensified.
“He knows Vivian is my fiancée, and he sent her flowers anyway. It’s disrespectful.”
I hadn’t told Christian about the Valhalla Club, Bali, or any of the changes in my relationship with Vivian. Handing him that information would be like handing dynamite to a destruction-minded toddler.
Unfortunately, the bastard possessed an eerily accurate radar when it came to other people’s weaknesses.
Not that Vivian was my weakness.
“Hmm.” A knowing smile played on Christian’s mouth. “That’s one reason. Another reason, one I’m more inclined to believe, is that you’re starting to develop feelings for your lovely future wife.”
“Lay off the whiskey, Harper. It’s clouding your judgment,” I said coldly. “Vivian is more tolerable than I originally anticipated, but nothing’s changed. I have no intention of marrying her or tying myself to the Laus.”
For some reason, the sentiment tasted less sweet than it had six months ago. Bitterness edged the words like they’d been tainted by deceit, though I’d meant what I said.
I was attracted to Vivian. I’d accepted that much about myself. I even liked her, but not enough to take her father’s blackmail lying down.
It didn’t matter, anyway. Once I demolished her father’s empire, she wouldn’t want anything to do with me. She was too loyal to her family. Such was the cost of business.
The back of my neck itched.
I pushed my sleeves up, wishing it weren’t so damn hot in here.
Christian must have his heater on full blast.
“If you say so,” he drawled. “Don’t worry, we’re close. Soon, you’ll be rid of their entire family, and you can have your house to yourself again.”
An odd ache gripped my chest.
“Looking forward to it,” I said curtly. I poured myself another glass of Glenlivet, but an incoming call interrupted before I could take a sip.
Edward.
He never called unless there was an emergency. Did something happen to Vivian?
Ice crept through my veins.
I quickly excused myself and stepped into the hall.
“What is it?” I demanded once Christian was out of earshot. “Is Vivian okay?”
“Ms. Vivian is fine,” Edward assured me. “However, there’s been a…” He let out a small cough. “Development I thought you should be aware of. She has a visitor.”
I waited impatiently for him to finish. Vivian received visitors all the time. None of them warranted a phone call, unless…
“From what I gathered, it’s a former paramour. I believe his name is Heath.”
It took a beat for the implications to sink in. Once they did, fury slipped beneath my skin like a slow, creeping poison.
What the fuck was Heath doing in my house? He was supposed to be in fucking California.
I was going to murder Christian. He must’ve known Heath was in New York, and he hadn’t said a damn thing about it.
“Normally, I wouldn’t bother you with such a matter, but he was quite insistent on seeing Ms. Vivian. She agreed to let him in, but…” Another delicate cough. “Given his unexpected arrival, I wanted to alert you.”
Blood drummed in my ears, distorting Edward’s voice. I was in D.C.
Vivian was in New York with her ex. I made up my mind in two seconds.
“Keep an eye on them, and don’t let him leave until I’m home,” I ordered. “I’m flying back tonight.”
It was an eighty-minute commercial flight between the cities. My jet could make it in fifty.
“Yes, sir.”
I hung up and reentered the library. Part of me wanted to strangle Christian for purposely withholding information from me, but I had a more pressing issue at hand.
“I have to go back to New York.” I grabbed my jacket off the back of the couch. “There’s a…personal matter I need to deal with.”
Christian looked up from his phone and slid it into his pocket. “Sorry to hear that,” he said mildly. “I’ll walk you out.”
Pinpricks of anger and something else vibrated beneath my skin on our way to the foyer.
Fear.
What the fuck was I afraid of? Heath wanted a second chance with Vivian; he wouldn’t physically hurt her. I trusted Edward to manage the situation; one call from him, and my home security team would have Heath wishing he’d never stepped foot east of the Rockies.
But what if Vivian wanted to see him? Our relationship hadn’t been the warmest since our office argument. She could’ve called Heath over while I was away. Heath could be convincing her to give him another chance right this minute.
It shouldn’t matter, considering our match was doomed from the start. But for some unknown reason, it did.
Christian and I reached the front door.
“This personal matter…” he said as I exited into the hall. “Wouldn’t happen to be Vivian’s ex-boyfriend showing up at your house, would it?”
Surprise halted my steps, followed by a cold blast of fury. I turned, my glare lasering in on Christian. “What the fuck did you do, Harper?”
“I merely facilitated a reunion between your fiancée and an old friend,” he said casually. “Since you enjoyed fucking with me so much, I figured I’d return the favor. Oh, and Dante?” His smile lacked any hint of humor. “Touch Stella again, and you’ll no longer have a fiancée.”
The door slammed in my face.
Red dotted my vision until it coated the walls and floor with crimson. That fucker.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t let his threat slide, but I didn’t have time for his bullshit.
I’d deal with Christian later.
It took ten minutes to reach my jet, fifty to land in New York, and another thirty to arrive at my apartment.
Plenty of time for my fury to reach a full boil.
I should’ve handled the Heath situation myself instead of delegating to Christian. He was good at his job, but he weaponized any and all information at his disposal.
Then there was fucking Heath. I hadn’t received any urgent updates from Edward, but the thought of him being in such close proximity to Vivian for almost two hours set my teeth on edge.
When I reached my apartment, Edward greeted me at the door, his face carefully blank. “Good evening, sir.”
“Where are they?”
He didn’t blink an eye at my curt response. “The living room.” I was gone before the last word fully left his mouth.
What could Heath and Vivian have been doing all this time? What were they talking about? Had they been in contact since he sent her those roses?
I stopped in the living room doorway. My eyes immediately found Vivian, who was backed against the wall next to the fireplace. Heath towered over her, his body partially obscuring her from view.
Fire ignited low in my gut.
I walked toward them, my steps silent against the thick carpet, my muscles coiling with each stride.
“I told you, I didn’t text you.” Vivian’s soft exasperation drifted into my ears when I neared. Neither of them noticed my arrival. “I don’t know what
happened, but the message isn’t from me.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.” Heath’s voice needled my skin like tiny, annoying wasps. I wanted to reach down his throat and yank his tongue out. “You don’t want to marry Dante. We both know that. You’re only with him because of your parents. Look, just…just wait until my IPO, okay? Postpone the wedding.”
“I can’t do that.” Exasperation edged into weariness. “I care about you, Heath. I always will. You were my first love. But I’m not…I can’t do that to Dante or my family.”
“Were?” The needling voice tightened. “Heath…”
“I still love you. You know that. I’ve always loved you. If it weren’t for your parents…” His head lowered. “Dammit, Viv. It was supposed to be us.”
“I know.” The thickness of her voice made my gut twist. “But it’s not.” “Do you love him?”
My gut twisted further at Vivian’s long pause.
“You don’t,” Heath said. “If you did, you wouldn’t hesitate.” “It’s not that simple.”
I’d heard enough.
“Next time you try to steal a man’s fiancée,” I said, my voice deadly calm despite the rage tunneling through me. “Don’t be stupid enough to do it in his house.”
Heath whipped around.
Surprise flashed through his eyes, but he didn’t get a chance to react before I hauled my arm back and slammed my fist into his face.
 |
VIVIAN
A sickening crunch ripped the air, followed by a pained howl. Blood spurted from Heath’s nose, and the scent of copper drenched my surroundings, seeping beneath my skin and rendering me immobile.
I could only watch, horrified, as Dante hauled a spluttering Heath up by the collar and pinned him against the wall.
Anger carved harsh lines across Dante’s face, hardening his jaw and turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension against the firelight. His eyes simmered with slow-burning fury, the type that snuck up and annihilated you before you knew it’d even arrived.
He’d always been intimidating, but in that moment, he looked larger than life, like the devil himself had left hell to exact his retribution.
“I don’t give a fuck how long you and Vivian have known each other or how long ago you dated.” Dante’s soft snarl sent ice skittering down my spine. “You don’t touch her. You don’t talk to her. You don’t even fucking think about her. If you do, I’ll break every fucking bone in your body until your own mother won’t recognize you. Understand?”
Beads of crimson dripped from Heath’s chin down his shirt.
“You’re out of your mind,” he spat. Despite his bravado, his pupils were the size of quarters. Fear leaked from him, almost as potent as the smell of blood. “I’ll sue you for assault.”
Dante’s smile was terrifying in its calmness. “You can try.”
He tightened his grip on Heath’s shirt, his knuckles already bruised from the force of his punch.
The air sharpened with fresh, impending violence, enough that it finally yanked me out of my frozen stupor.
“Stop.” I found my voice right as Dante drew his arm back for another punch. “Let him go.”
He didn’t move. “Now.”
A heavy beat passed before he released Heath, who slumped on the floor, coughing and clutching his nose. Judging by the crack earlier, it had to be broken, but I found it hard to summon sympathy after dealing with him for the past two hours.
“This is not a school playground,” I said. “You’re both grown men. Act
like it.”
My day had been shitty enough. First, someone spilled coffee all over my brand-new, white Theory dress during my morning latte run. Then, I found out a pipe had burst at the Legacy Ball’s original venue. The place was flooded and would take months to repair, which meant I had three months to find and move all gala preparations to a new venue that would 1) be available on such short notice 2) fit within my budget, and 3) have the space and grandeur necessary to host five hundred extremely discerning, extremely judgmental guests.
I came home hoping to relax, only to have Heath show up at the door rambling about a text I supposedly sent him, telling him I wanted to reconcile.
Now, my fiancé and ex-boyfriend were at each other’s throats, and there was blood dripping everywhere.
Needless to say, my sympathy reserves were at an all-time low.
“Heath, you should go and get your nose looked at.” Every second he and Dante stayed in the same room was another opportunity for more trouble.
I’d go with him to the hospital, but considering Dante’s current mood, offering to leave with him would hurt more than it helped.
Heath looked at me, his eyes tortured. “Viv…”
A rumble of warning emanated from Dante’s chest. “Go,” I said. “Please.”
He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Dante’s death glare had him scrambling up and out of the room without another word.
I waited until I heard the front door slam before I whirled on the other infuriating, migraine-inducing man in my life.
“What is wrong with you? You can’t just go around punching people!
You probably broke his nose!”
“I can do whatever I want,” Dante said, the picture of remorselessness. “He deserved it.”
A headache gathered behind my temples.
“No, you can’t. Newsflash, having money doesn’t absolve you from consequences. There’s a…a proper way of doing things that doesn’t include violence. You’re lucky if he doesn’t sue you for assault.”
”I’m lucky?” Dante growled. “He’s lucky I didn’t break more than his nose for coming into my house and trying to wreck our engagement.”
“I’m not saying he’s right. I’m saying there was a better way to handle the situation than opening yourself up to an assault charge!”
Dante had enough lawyers and money to shake such a charge off like it was nothing, but that wasn’t the point. It was the principle of the matter.
“He was touching you.” Dante’s eyes darkened to midnight. “Did you
want him to touch you?”
Oh, for God’s sake.
“You don’t get to do that,” I said through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to storm in and act like a jealous fiancé when you’ve been ignoring me for weeks. I tried to talk to you about Heath after the flowers. You refused and ran off to D.C.”
His lips thinned. “I haven’t been ignoring you, and I did not run off to D.C.”
“You gave me the cold shoulder, avoided eye and verbal contact, and communicated in caveman grunts or via a third party at most. That’s the textbook definition of ignoring.”
Dante stared at me, his face like granite.
Frustration bubbled in my chest and rose up my throat.
“You open up, then you shut down. You kiss me, then you leave. We’ve been doing this back-and-forth dance for months, and I’m sick of it.” I lifted my chin, my heart wavering beneath an onslaught of nerves. “I just want to know, once and for all. Is this still only business, or is it more?”
A muscle flexed in Dante’s jaw. “It doesn’t matter. We’re getting married either way.”
“It does matter. I’m not playing this game with you anymore.” My frustration morphed into anger, turning my words into blades. “If this is business, we’ll treat it as such. We’ll produce an heir, smile for the cameras in public, and live our lives separately in private. That’s it.”
It wasn’t the life I would’ve chosen, but I was in too deep to back out now. At least then, I’d know where we stand and adjust my expectations accordingly.
No more overanalyzing every crumb of intimacy, searching for something that wasn’t there. No more hanging onto the hopes Dante would change and I’d be one of the lucky ones whose arranged marriage turned into love.
“Live our lives separately in private?” Dante’s voice dropped to a dangerous decibel. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like. We do what we want, discreetly, and we don’t question the other about it as long as it doesn’t affect our… public image.”
My words faltered at the storm gathering in his eyes. “Are you talking about an affair, Vivian?”
Goosebumps erupted in alarm over my chest and shoulders.
“No, and that’s not the point. Answer my question. Is this business, or is this something more?”
He remained silent.
“Heath was wrong for what he tried to do, but you’re upset because… why? You’re threatened? Territorial?” My nails dug into my palms. “I’m
not a toy, Dante. You don’t get to toss me aside and pick me back up only when someone else wants me.”
“I don’t think you’re a toy,” he ground out.
“Then why do you care? Why did you punch Heath when you were the one who told me to leave our feelings out of this?”
More silence. The cords of his neck visibly strained against his skin.
The tension was so thick I could taste it in my throat, but I pushed forward, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.
“We’re only together because of a deal you made with my father. What’s it to you if my ex shows back up in my life? You know the wedding would move forward either way,” I said. “Are you afraid I’ll break the engagement? Run off with Heath and leave you looking like a fool in front of your friends? Why do you care?”
“I don’t know!” The force of his reply stunned me into silence. Dante’s granite mask cracked, revealing the torment underneath.
“I don’t know why I care. I just know I do, and I hate it.” Self-loathing coated his voice.
“I hate the idea of you touching anyone else, or anyone else touching you. I hate that other people can make you laugh in a way I can’t. I hate how I feel around you, like you’re the only person that can make me lose control when I. Don’t. Lose. Control.”
Every word, every step brought him closer until my back pressed against the wall and the heat of his body enveloped mine.
“But I do.” His voice dropped, turning ragged. “With you.”
My blood thundered in my ears, muffling his words until I was underwater and drowning in a sea of emotions.
Shock, hope, fear, elation, uncertainty…they all mingled until they were indistinguishable from each other.
“I don’t know isn’t good enough,” I whispered.
Once upon a time, it would’ve been. But we’d passed that marker long ago.
Dante’s jaw tightened. This close, I could see the hints of gold in his eyes, like flecks of light in a sea of darkness.
“Heath said he still loves you. Enough to go against your parents, and me, to be with you. But you broke up two years ago and he didn’t do a damn thing about it until he found out you were engaged.” The darkness edged out the light. “You want to know the truth, Vivian? If I loved you as much as he claims to love you, nothing would’ve stopped me from keeping you.”
I didn’t realize until that moment how easy it was for one simple sentence to dissolve the threads holding my world together.
If I loved you as much as he claims to love you, nothing would’ve stopped me from keeping you.
“If,” I breathed, my throat unbearably tight. “Hypothetical.”
The gold disappeared completely, leaving pools of midnight in its wake. A sardonic smile. “Yes, mia cara.” Warmth brushed my lips.
“Hypothetical.”
My heartbeat slowed.
Time suspended for a brief, agonizing moment, just long enough for our breaths to intermingle.
Then a groan shattered the spell, followed by a low curse.
That was the only warning I got before Dante yanked me to him and crashed his mouth down on mine.
