Femme Fatale Loved (Pericolo #3)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  “I have to grab something else to show you,” he says and leaves me in the middle of this bar.

  While he rushes off, I grab my phone and quickly type a text for Zane. We had plans for today, and now that I’m here, they’re being ruined slightly.

  If you get in contact with him, I’m at Dante’s new bar. It’s on 6th Ave, near 28th and 29th.

  I’m not at work ... seems I have no need to go back there!

  A x

  Shoving my phone back away, I start to wander the vast space. I go up to the booths and run a hand over the black leather, feeling the quality beneath my hands. I graze across the tables, feeling the coolness of the metal. I turn, facing the grand bar that stretches across the entire length of the bar. The detailing in the woodwork mesmerizes me. It’s one of the most gorgeous focal points in this building I’ve seen so far, and as I approach, lights come on, and I look up to see chandeliers glistening beautifully above me. I look up, turning on the spot as I douse myself in the beauty of this place. As I drag my attention away, I notice Dante coming back to me with a file under his arm.

  “Do you like the color scheme?”

  “Of course, I do,” I quip quickly, smirking at him. “It’s black and gold.”

  “One of your favorites, if I remember?” he asks me, cocking a brow to challenge me to refute that point. “Still is, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I reply, feeling my confused state as I follow him over to the glorious bar. “Why am I here, though?”

  “To sign the deed to the place,” he says so casually that he hasn’t quite noticed the shock I’m wearing, the one that’s numbing every extremity of my body, waiting to infect my brain. He continues, grinning as he notices the stance I’ve taken. “Zane and I have been talking a lot over the last few weeks. Every time you left for work, he said how much you hated it and wished you had the money for your own bar, a place to make your own.”

  “Hang on,” I interject, waving my hands in front of me to stop him. “You’re giving me a bar?”

  “No,” he replies, dousing my excitement with a harsh monosyllabic response. “Not quite anyway. I’ll be a silent partner. If you need anything, anything at all, you’ll have me, but this will be your bar to run. You’ll earn a generous wage and have the chance to scout the areas for places where we can expand. I’ve done it in Brooklyn and Santa Barbara with Jackson and Ryleigh. I couldn’t think of anyone better to share the Manhattan expansion with than you, Amelia.”

  “What?” I say, feeling like the wind’s been knocked out of me. I steady myself against the bar as I feel dizzy at this. “You want me to co-own a bar with you?”

  “Basically,” he chirps, setting the file down. “I’ll leave you in charge, enable you to have free rein of who you employ, what goes on the menus, what you do with the entire place when it’s renovated, but know if you need me to help out, which I will when the baby comes, then I will.”

  “How did this happen?” I ask, skepticism a vehement drug in my blood right now. I just quit a job, and now, I’m gaining a bar.

  “As I said, Zane made a comment about you wishing you had your own bar, so here you are!”

  He starts to spread the paperwork out, telling me I have to sign if I want to be a partner with him and be listed as an owner. Dante makes suggestions to make this place better, writing down any ideas I have, writing down a prediction of how many staff members we’ll need, and listing potential security companies. As we get lost in the details, the door opens, and the noises from outside fill the space before quieting once more. I look up first, but Dante doesn’t.

  “We’re not open!” Dante yells out as he writes down the plans he wants to happen before renovations are done. “You’ll have to come back at a later date.”

  I, however, don’t move to tell the person to leave. While Dante has no clue, I’m grinning like a fool, and the stranger is smiling wickedly at me.

  Jackson St. Claire hasn’t changed one bit! My contact with him dwindled long before Dante’s supposed death, but after the news spread, I found no reason to go to Brooklyn. However, recently, with Dante’s reticent behavior to start to build a bridge with Jackson, Zane and Enzo set about using Carlo to get back in contact. Apparently, it worked.

  “Just checking out the competition,” Jackson calls out, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  Dante drops the pen and looks at me. I smile, nodding my head to tell him to look. He slowly turns to face the man who became just like his brother since they were children. I watch as Dante struggles with what to do now.

  “What, no hug?” Jackson asks, throwing his arms out to await an embrace.

  I nudge Dante, forcing him to go to Jackson. He does so, but I can tell it’s all done numbly, unable to comprehend what the fuck is going on at this moment. However, the moment he can, he throws his arms around Jackson, clinging on dearly as he reacquaints himself.

  “Got to admit that I’ve never hugged a ghost before,” Jackson jokes as they pull apart.

  “Very funny,” Dante mocks, but he quickly sobers up. “I’m sorry, Jax.”

  “Don’t be. I knew your life would always lead to two things ... you die, or you run. You kinda tricked the world with both. Jodi and I were devastated, but I couldn’t give up. Then when we found out you were alive, I knew I had to have you back, but I knew not to rush back in.”

  “You’re not pissed at me?”

  “Dante, I lived that life by your side. I saw how deep you got dragged and who dragged you to that point. Christ, it hurt, but I couldn’t begrudge you getting out. I’d be a hypocrite not to understand what that life did to you. It was testing.” He gives Dante a reassuring smile, making sure he understands. “Now, let me go over and see that gorgeous woman I recognize propping up your bar.”

  “Did you know about this?” Dante asks as he comes back to me with Jackson by his side.

  “Ah,” I manage, putting my hands up to aid my shock that Jackson actually came. “About that.”

  “That?” Jackson laughs at my reaction. “Amelia Abbiati, you wound me.”

  I grin at him, slipping off the stool to wrap my arms around his neck and cling to him tightly.

  “You’re feeling a little pregnant there, Lia,” he comments as he deliberately pushes me away to look down at my stomach, his hands staying on my biceps. “You are a little pregnant.” He gazes back up at me, still holding me an arm’s length away. “Who’s the baby daddy?”

  “Zane Maverick,” Dante announces proudly,

  “Well, I fucking never!” Jackson exclaims, laughing at the irony. “How times fucking change.”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” I retort, feeling a blush creep up my chest ready to invade my face. I gulp, deciding to leave the Zane Maverick chat until later. “I’m so glad you gave this a chance.”

  “I should’ve known it was you,” Dante jests, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “You’re a meddler just like Enzo said.”

  “I am and damn proud of it,” I reply politely, smiling. “You’ve been deliberately ignoring the Jackson-size elephant in the room since we met back up, so I decided to get you the real deal.”

  “I know we have a lot to talk about and work through, but Dante,” Jackson pauses, unable to withhold his smile from growing, “I’ve wanted nothing more than to have you back in my life, and while I was shocked, I knew I needed you back.”

  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” Dante murmurs softly. He coughs, steeling himself. “Where’s that gorgeous wife of yours?”

  “She’s waiting for me with our son,” Jackson remarks proudly. I feel my jaw drop, and wonder what’s going on in Dante’s mind. “He wants to meet his Uncle Dante.”

  “You have a son?” Dante asks, his shoulders drop as he loses his balance.

  “I do, Daniel Dante St. Claire,” Jackson responds, and his pride seems to magnify.

  “Y-you gave him my name?” Dante asks, stammering for words. He puts a hand to his head and begins to tear at his
hair. “I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.” I watch as Dante begins to spiral into a saddened demise. This wasn’t the plan! “Why did I skip out on this life?”

  “To have the better life,” I reply, feeling my eyes watering. “We all know that, Dante. We all had to lose some time to get back a better life.”

  “Hey,” Jackson says, putting his hand on his brother’s back. “Just embrace it, bro. I know there’s so much we have to learn about one another, but we have all the time in the world now.”

  “Listen to him,” I jump in, preparing my best pep talk to offer him if necessary. “Just enjoy this life more.”

  “Just you wait, piccola. Payback will be mine, Amelia, don’t you worry. You’ll be having a meltdown like me soon. Today is not done with you.”

  “Why not?” I gasp, a hand reaching out to grab him. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll see,” Dante says, closing the file. Apparently, this can all wait until later. He looks at his watch, his eyes glistening as a smile widens across his face. “We’re moving this party on. You coming, Jax?”

  At hearing the familiarity of his own nickname, Jackson’s face illuminates. “It was the plan anyway.”

  What the fuck is going on now?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “What the hell is this?”

  I look around as there are white ribbons tied to every post on the picket fence. Giant vases sit on either side of my front door, blossoming bouquets of white flowers with a hint of pink sprinkled within. I notice the roses, the lilies, and the gypsophila nestled among other flowers I can’t place. I also take quick note of the candles lining the path.

  “Seriously, Dante, what the hell is going on?”

  Dante doesn’t verbally respond. Instead, he rushes to me, bending over just in time to put me on his shoulder and lift me up.

  “Dante!” I squeal as he rushes away from the car, and the yard passes me in upside down swirls and bursts of colors and flickers of flames. “Put me down!”

  “No can do, piccola!” he tells me, adding on my nickname as if it’ll suddenly sweeten me up. “I usually like to wait for my payback to happen, but today, it’s all been just so perfectly timed. I only had to keep you at the new bar a little while.”

  “What?” I say, my exclamation comes out in a high pitch shrill. “Jackson, help me!”

  “No can do, little lady!” Jackson shouts as he allows Dante to carry me off.

  “Cazzo bastardos!” I yell, hitting Dante to make him put me down, but I know my feeble punches won’t grant me freedom.

  “Amelia, quit it, or I’ll spank you!” Dante threatens, teasingly. He pulls a key from his back pocket as we make out way up the walkway to the house and lets himself into the house. I continue to argue, making this difficult, but he doesn’t even seem to find this strenuous. “I’ve got her!”

  “Argh, finally!” Alessa rushes in, clapping her hands together. “Men are dominating down here; get her upstairs before he sees her!”

  “Hello!” I shout out, the blood rushing to my head. “I’m prone to bouts of morning sickness about this time. If I vomit, I hope it’s all over your back!”

  “You’ll be thanking me later!” Dante chirps, his voice full of merriment.

  “Take her to the front of the house!” Alessa commands, clearly in charge of whatever scheme they’re working on. “She’s not allowed near the back.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” When no one responds, I start to feel desperate. “Stop with the cryptic! Please!”

  “Okay,” Dante finally agrees, bending down to set me on my feet. I rock a little, but he holds me steady. “Just go in there and enjoy everything that is going on. Okay, piccola?”

  “What is going on?” I ask. I hate the worrisome feeling hitting me. I hate being kept in the dark, even when it’s my family doing it.

  “You’ll see,” Dante remarks, still not giving anything away. “Just stop panicking, please.” He pulls me in, kissing my cheek. “Just embrace this.”

  I turn and walk into my bedroom, finding the place ransacked. Allana is setting out makeup on my large dresser, the white tip now smothered with different shades of blusher, eye shadows, mascaras rolling between the pots with eyeliners and lip liners mixed into the bunch.

  I look around, unaware why her hair is up in rollers, her face perfectly made up when we had no plans for today. I don’t even get it as Alessa breezes past me, disappearing into the walk-in closet.

  “Now that you’re here, I can bring this out.”

  Alessa comes out with a long white cover on a hanger. She winks at me, before placing the item on the bed. The way she lays it down, delicately placing it as she does, piques my curiosity. In the back of my mind, I know what’s going on, and I want to shout at her, but I’m silenced by nerves. She pulls the zipper down the length, and I feel ushered forward.

  “What is this for?” I ask, feeling a lump of apprehension growing in my throat.

  As she reveals more white, I find myself struggling to draw a breath. My mind is screaming a thousand things at me, but one voice sounds the loudest, one that seems to resonate what Alessa says next.

  “You’re getting married,” Alessa tells me.

  “Yeah,” I say, suddenly laughing at her hysterically. “I’m getting married in a few months.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Alessa replies, trying to hide something, but I’m already playing a massive guessing game. “Your wedding’s been moved, so we need you to put the dress on, so we can see what look will look best with this.”

  “What?” I squawk. I can feel I’m tensing up.

  “Don’t question it, just do it,” Ryleigh says, pushing me toward the bathroom, Alessa quickly gathering the dress back up. “We’ll help with tightening the back; we just need you in the dress.”

  I find myself shut up in the bathroom, the dress hanging from the curtain pole of the shower, and I can’t find the energy to move. Whatever is going on is going to be another life changer.

  “Amelia! I don’t hear any movement,” Allana shouts through the door, rousing me to move. “Get a move on!”

  I start to strip, finding underwear and a strapless bra in the bathroom ready. The moment the dress is covering me, I feel like I can truly breathe. This moment is surreal; I can’t wrap my head around anything right now to comprehend what is happening.

  Not even as I leave the bathroom and find Alana and Alessa transformed into their bridesmaid gowns that match the color I had in mind – my mother’s favorite color. The pink-peach shade looks beautiful on them both, and I feel like they’ve made my dream wedding come to life.

  “Come and stand in front of the mirror.”

  I do as she says and take in the dress as a whole in the full-length mirror. The embroidered top of the dress is smothered in gems and jewels delicately stitched but beautifully made. My fuller breasts sit perfectly in the dress, giving me a perfect cleavage leading into a sweetheart neckline. The white lengths of chiffon dance and glide across all the curves of my body, all tapering from the tight area across my bust. The empire cut hides my baby bump, making it look as if I’m not almost three and a half months pregnant. Although it’s still small, I feel like I’m carrying huge lump on my front.

  “I can’t believe you managed to get this for me!” I try not to, but sob the words out.

  “Of course, we did,” Allana remarks, grinning at me in the reflection. She comes up behind me so she can lace the ribbon down my back and tighten the dress around me so it fits like a glove. “You wanted this dress the moment you saw it, so we made a few calls, and your grandfather made a little bit of an offer, and the designer made quick work. Getting your size was a little tricky.”

  “But that was where I came in,” Ryleigh chirps. “We’re similar sizes, but we had to make a guess on your bra size because you’re getting bigger every day there.”

  “Much to Zane’s delight,” I retort, my humor dry.

  “I can see why he’ll love t
hose tits of yours,” a new voice bursts into the room. I look to find Jodi leaning against the doorway. She’s dressed in a full-length mint green gown with quite the slit up the side.

  “Oh, my God,” I gasp, finding the wind knocked out of my lungs once more. “What are you doing here?”

  “I heard there’s the wedding of the century and Dante’s alive ... I can’t fucking miss that!” Jodi exclaims, proving she hasn’t changed any over the years. “Now, get over here so I can hug you!”

  I do as she says, and she bundles me into her arms, squeezing me tightly until I can’t breathe. As I feel her loosen her grasp, I fall backward to take a good look at her.

  “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

  Jodi shakes her head. “Not as much as I’ve missed you, Lia. God, I can’t believe I left it this long to have my girl back!”

  “I have you back now,” I state quite clearly. “We’ve all got one another back.”

  “That’s how it’s staying,” Jodi quips, pushing me back to the mirror. “Now, this dress is perfect for you, even with you being pregnant.”

  I grin at her emphasis on that word. “I knew I fell in love with it for the right reasons.”

  I run careful hands over my bump, illustrating it with my hold, but as I let go, the dress releases and hides it once more. I smile, knowing that our photos won’t look like a shotgun wedding because the bride and groom got horny.

  “It flows enough that it drapes over your bump instead of traps it.” Alessa looks at the gown, and I can see she’s starting to well up with everything that’s happening. She catches me watching her through the reflection and tries to sober up. “Sorry, I’m just so happy to be a part of this.”

  “Before she starts blubbering, we need to sort your hair and makeup,” Allana said, starting to play with my untamed hair. She looks horrified with what she has to work with.

  It doesn’t take me forever to decide on what I want. It was never a big argument or a mass deliberation. Zane never knew how perfect our wedding was going to be with just a few people and a simple ceremony. I didn’t want extravagant, and I didn’t want to splurge on unnecessary details. I just only ever wanted to marry him.