by Bella J.
Love. Love was what I needed…with her.
I loved my family…but I loved her more.
As I made my way up the porch, Kate, Layla’s sister, opened the door. But the second I saw her face, her eyes red and cheeks wet, my heart dropped to the soles of my feet.
“Layla?”
“I’m sorry, Dante,” Kate whispered.
“Where is she?”
“Dante—”
“Where the fuck is Layla, Kate?”
Kate dropped her gaze to the ground as she leaned against the doorframe. “I’m sorry, Dante, but Layla isn’t here.” She held out a white envelope. “She asked me to give you this.”
I studied Kate’s face, trying to determine what the fuck was going on. Nothing about that moment made any goddamn sense.
Kate avoided eye contact, her lips were pulled into a straight line, and I knew my world was about to come to a fucking end. My soul was on the verge of being ripped apart.
I ignored the envelope in Kate’s hand. “Where is she?”
“I can’t tell you that, Dante.”
“When did she leave?”
Kate shrugged. “I can’t tell you that either.”
“Why the fuck not?” I stepped closer, the blood in my veins simmering, as hurt and confusion slowly started to crack my chest wide open.
Kate glanced up, then down, and then over my shoulder.
“Kate, will you fucking look at me and tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t know, okay?” Kate tossed the envelope toward me, and it fell on the ground next to my feet. “All I know is she left, and she asked me to give you the goddamn envelope.”
“What else did she say?”
Kate bit into her bottom lip, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“Jesus Christ, Kate!”
“She’s not coming back!” Her cheeks turned a light shade of red. “My little sister is not coming back. Not to me. Not to you. Never.” She took a step back into the house. “I don’t know what you did, Dante. All I know is because of you, I will never see my fucking sister again.”
And with those words, she slammed the door shut in my face.
I stood there, stunned. Everything around me faded to gray. There was no sound, no movement, as if someone had pressed the goddamn pause button on my life. Within less than two minutes, my dreams, my hope, my fucking life came to a crashing halt. Every goddamn happy emotion I had felt on my way here had drowned in the pool of pain that now occupied every part of me.
I glanced down at the envelope, and with every beat of my heart, I knew whatever was written in that letter would destroy me.
Slowly, I bent and picked it up. It felt like the flimsy piece of paper weighed a thousand pounds. The words hidden between those pages held so much power over me, I could feel it crushing me, suffocating me…killing me.
As I tore through the paper, fear started to squeeze the air out of my lungs. No matter what I was about to read, the pounding ache inside my chest told me I had already lost her—the love of my fucking life. I lost her.
I pulled out the letter, then sucked in a breath when I saw her familiar handwriting. I didn’t know what to expect, but what I found written wasn’t it.
Please don’t look for me. I beg you not to search for answers you will never find.
Just let it be.
I’m sorry.
Four little sentences. That was all it took to rip my heart out and allow the darkness to take its place.
I took a deep breath after swallowing my second glass of bourbon. The memories felt like daggers piercing the flesh of my heart over and over again. I hated that they still held so much power over me. After all the time that had passed, the memories still tortured me. She still tortured me.
“It’s a little early for a drink, don’t you think?”
I looked up at Antonio, who took a seat across from me by the bar. “You want one?”
“Fuck, yes.”
I snorted and poured my brother a drink while refilling mine.
That was another thing I hated about all this—everyone knew. Everyone knew who Layla was to me, and what it did to me when she left. For months after, I was nothing but a walking corpse who lived on alcohol. I spent my days either drunk or hung over, and thoroughly fucked. Sex numbed the pain. It still did. And the more, the merrier. Gang banging and orgies while drinking myself into a stupor was the only goal I had for a very long time.
Antonio took a sip from his drink. “You sure it was her?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if I might be wrong.”
“Lorik is on it right now. We should have answers soon.”
I pulled out the bar chair and sat. “If it was her, why now?”
“Who the fuck knows.”
I let out a laugh. “Fuck. I don’t even know why she left. Now I don’t know why she would be calling me after all this time. That’s if it even was her.”
Antonio emptied his glass, cringing from the sting of the alcohol. “You know Lorik. He’ll have an answer within the hour.”
“Answers? Or just more questions?” I stared at him, and Antonio shrugged.
“I don’t know, little brother.”
For a second, Antonino looked worried—sympathetic, even. It was a rare occurrence for my brother to show any emotion other than anger and disappointment. On the odd occasion, I kind of understood why he was the way he was. Our dad was harder on him while we were growing up. Antonio always had to set the standard, be the example. Day in and day out, our father would remind him that one day the responsibility of the family’s wellbeing would be his, and he needed to be prepared.
God knew I never wished to be in Antonio’s place. Never envied the burden that lay so heavily on his shoulders. No wonder he never had a sense of humor, or a need to just fuck up every once in a while.
Antonio cleared his throat. “So, what if it was her?”
“What do you mean?”
“How would you feel if it was Layla who called?”
I snorted. “Jesus, are you a shrink now?”
“I’m just wondering. It’s been what? Like four, five years since she left? And you’d need to be a special kind of stupid to not notice you’re still fucked up about her.”
I leaned my head to the side. “Good God, you are terrible at this.”
“At what?’
“At brothering.”
Antonio stared at me deadpan for a few seconds before he exhaled and let out a laugh. “I am. I suck at being a sympathetic brother.”
I refilled both our glasses. “We both know you never liked Layla.”
“The only reason I didn’t like her was because she turned you into a pussy-whipped asshole who only thought about white picket fences and puppies.”
I leaned back in my chair, swirling the amber liquid around and around in the glass. “I won’t deny it. If she didn’t leave back then, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
“Yeah. You’d be out there in the world raising your two children, loving your wife, and picking up dog shit every day.” His gaze met mine. “You certainly wouldn’t still be here, living in this house, working for Dad by getting rid of problems. Speaking of which, I assume everything went down smoothly last night.” Every contour of Antonio’s face turned all shades of serious.
I pressed my thumb and forefinger at the bridge of my nose. “Yes, Antonio. The fucker is buried somewhere with a bullet in his skull, and a few fingernails short. So, I’d say everything went smoothly.”
Antonio shook his head. “See? Completely fucked up.”
I tilted my glass in his direction, then swallowed it all in one gulp. “If it wasn’t for me being so fucked up, you wouldn’t have an executioner for a brother.”
“You know you don’t have to be the one to do that shit. We have other options.”
I snorted. “Other options? Who else would you trust with delicate matters such as killin
g people who piss you off?”
Antonio stared at me. He knew I was right. He and Dad, they wouldn’t be able to trust anyone else when it came to disposing of problems. Lucky for them, I had the balls and the stomach to kill and torture.
“Okay,” Antonio got up from his seat, “Vertigo tonight. I’m sure we won’t have a problem getting Lorik there.”
“Yeah. I’ll just warn Karina so she doesn’t kill us when we bring him back in a comatose state.”
“Good thinking.”
“Did I hear my woman’s name?” Lorik strolled in, and Antonio and I exchanged knowing looks.
“Yes, you did. We were just trying to figure out what the hell our sister sees in you.” I grinned at him.
“I already told you. It’s my giant-sized Albanian cock.”
Antonio cringed. “In the name of everything that is holy, could you please stop referring to your cock when you talk about our sister?”
Lorik shrugged. “You talked about her first.”
I rubbed my temples. “Is there a reason you’re here?”
“Oh, yeah. First, Karina took the time to fill me in on who this Layla woman is. Sorry, man.”
Lorik shot me a sympathetic stare, and I rolled my eyes. “Spare me your pity.”
“It’s not pity. I just totally get why you’re an asshole now.”
Antonio snickered, and I scowled at Lorik. “The reason you’re here is…?”
“I got that call traced for you.”
“Already?”
“What can I say? I’m fast.”
I lifted a brow. “Ooh, and what does your giant-sized Albanian cock think about that?”
Antonio snorted, and Lorik glared at me. “So not funny. But I will tell you what’s funny. That phone call is coming from the Mancuso mansion.”
Immediately, the banter ceased, and Antonio stepped closer while I straightened in my seat. “The Mancuso mansion?”
“Yeah. Well, it’s either there or really fucking close by.”
Antonio looked at me, and my mind reeled in a thousand different directions. “That’s impossible, then.”
Lorik seemed confused. “What’s impossible?”
“Well, it couldn’t have been Layla. She hasn’t been back in town ever since she left. It can’t be her I heard over the phone.”
“What are the chances that she might be back?”
I pulled a hand through my hair. “None. Besides, I have eyes and ears everywhere, just in case. If she was back in town, I would have known.”
Antonio tapped his finger on the bar. “Between you and me, brother, it’s really weird that you still have people keeping an eye out for her after all these fucking years.”
“Between you and me, brother,” I tilted my glass in his direction, “it’s none of your fucking business, anyway.”
“Okay, okay. Girls, you’re both pretty.” Lorik reached in his pocket and slid a new cell phone over the counter toward me.
I lifted a brow in question.
“It’s your new phone.” He held out his hand. “I need your old one so I can get rid of it. Security is a big thing around here, as you very well know.”
With a sigh, and Antonio’s continued tapping on the counter annoying the fuck out of me, I handed my old phone to Lorik.
“Great.” He got up and tucked the phone in his pocket. “I’ll see you two ladies tonight. I hear we’re having a bachelor party.” He winked and left Antonio and me openmouthed. Asshole was sly as fuck. I could see why Dad insisted Lorik handle most of the security around here. Nothing got by him.
Antonio shook his head. “I’ll see you later.”
I watched as Antonio walked out, and then I emptied my glass. It was working, the alcohol. It was making the memories easier to bear. But it did nothing to fade the image of her face. It also didn’t help jack-shit to ease the longing. Layla had always been the one, which was why I never even attempted a relationship with another woman. I fucked, and I made sure whoever was at the receiving end knew there was no chance of it being anything more.
I sighed then glanced at my wristwatch. It was going to be a long-ass day.
Chapter 4
Dante
Somehow, I was no longer in the mood for a night out. Just this morning I was all up Antonio’s ass about a bachelor party for Lorik, but ever since that goddamn phone call, I was unable to tear my mind away from her.
The woman who ruined me.
The woman who destroyed the man I once was.
And after hearing a voice that was either hers or sounded a lot like hers, the memories felt like it all took place just yesterday. I had been walking around the whole goddamn day as if I was waiting for a fucking bomb to go off.
“You warned Karina, right?” Lorik touched my shoulder from the back seat. “Because if you didn’t, I am going to be in a fuck-load of trouble when I get home smelling like bourbon and unable to piss straight.”
I laughed. “Where’s the fun in that? I love hearing my sister swear at you in Italian. The look on your face is fucking priceless.”
He snorted. “Yeah, well, I’d like to see you try to keep a straight face when the woman you’re about to marry—who also happens to be the owner of the only pussy you will ever get for the rest of your life—gets angry at you and starts shouting in a language you can’t understand, yet you know she’s pissed at you. How the fuck am I supposed to know what to say when I don’t know what the fuck she’s saying?”
Antonio and I started laughing. Karina might be sweet, but she had Italian blood running through her veins, and when Italian women got angry, men tended to wish for the world to come to an end.
I parked my Audi in the underground parking—our usual spot. When you financed the owner’s illegal gambling setup, you earned guaranteed VIP treatment.
As we approached the back door, the bouncer opened it, allowing us through, no questions asked. God, I loved this life. I couldn’t believe there was a time when I wanted something different. Who wouldn’t want to be treated like a goddamn prince?
Antonio nodded toward the bouncer in greeting, but naturally Lorik had to do the whole fist-bump maneuver.
“Tim, my man.”
“Detective Stone.”
Lorik held up his hand, showcasing the wolf tattoo. “Not a detective anymore, Tim. I’m a wolf now.” He smiled like an idiot.
I rolled my eyes then grabbed him behind his neck, dragging him down the hall. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a dumbass?”
“Pfffft, never.”
Once we stepped inside the club, I felt a little of the tension ease out of my shoulders. The music, the people, the smell of sex and alcohol made me think of the here and now rather than the past or the fucking future. All that mattered was now—the present. Tomorrow would deal with the aftermath of the decisions which were made today.
Antonio took the lead with me short on his heel, while Lorik walked next to me. All eyes were on us—especially the women’s. It happened whenever we entered a goddamn room. Why? Because in this city we were fucking royalty. Everyone knew not to fuck with us.
The second we walked up to the second floor reserved for VIP guests, a waitress dressed in nothing but a black mini skirt and glitter nipple patches greeted us.
“Can I get you gentlemen something to drink?” Her eyes met mine, and memories of her naked body pressed up against the wall of the men’s room flashed through my mind. By the way she bit her bottom lip, I knew she was thinking of it too.
Antonio unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Three bourbons on the rocks, and a round of tequila.”
Lorik smiled. “This is going to be one hell of a night, gentlemen. I can feel it all the way down my fucking spine.”
The waitress brought our drinks, and we took a seat close to the glass barrier, wanting the view of the dancefloor below.
Antonio leaned back in his seat. “Anyone else been wondering about the weird phone call today?”
“Oh, come on,” Lorik complained. �
�Could you please pull that motherfucking stick out of your ass for one night? Just one goddamn night?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Yes, the weird fucking phone call had been on my mind, but trust Antonio to bring it up at the start of what was supposed to be a fun night.
“I’m with Lorik on this one, brother. We can go one night without discussing such matters.”
Antonio shrugged, forfeiting his attempt to talk business. It was typical of him, always thinking business, and never making time for anything but that. Sometimes I got the feeling it was physically painful for him to have fun and to enjoy a good night out. I, on the other hand, had that down to a T, since even though there was that weird as fuck phone call, I could easily push it to the back of my mind. Tomorrow would be a good time to start fretting over it again.
I turned to Lorik, wanting to change the subject. “Still excited to be a part of the family?”
He rubbed tiny circles over the wolf tattoo on the top of his hand. “Best thing that ever happened to me.” He looked up at us. “Your sister, I mean. Not you two dildos. Fuck knows, my grandmother’s urn is more fun than you two.”
Antonio laughed then stood and walked to the glass barrier and stared out over the club. I rubbed the stubble on my chin with my thumb and forefinger, and Lorik ordered another round of tequila.
“Dante?”
I looked up at Antonio, who stood with his back toward me. “Yeah?”
“How sure are you it couldn’t have been Layla who phoned you from the other side of town?”
“Believe me, I’m sure.”
Antonio kept staring down to the dancefloor. “I think you need to come see this, little brother.”
“What is it?” I got up and sauntered over to the barrier.
Antonio pointed to the entrance, where I saw Matteo—the new Mancuso underboss since Lorik put a bullet in his brother’s chest. He looked every ounce the asshole we all knew he was. Not even a thousand-dollar suit could make him look like more than an ugly motherfucker. What annoyed me the most about him and his entire fucking family was how they walked around town like they owned it. They lived as if they had the world at their feet. Meanwhile, they didn’t have shit. If it wasn’t for the poison they were passing around on the streets like fucking candy, they wouldn’t even have a pot to piss in.
