Bound Together

Dante

Dinner at Giancarlo’s is spectacular, as always, but I can’t think about anything other than the look on Eleni’s face when she asked me to tell her where to go. Who to be. I’ve seen that look a thousand times, on a thousand different women. Even on El, when I’ve pushed her to her limits in bed. Once upon a time, I thought it was all I wanted in a partner. To be submissive, pliant, able to fit into my world. Hell, I used to think that was what I wanted out of Eleni.

But things have changed, she’s right. She’s just wrong about when. Everything changed the moment she told me why to get a gyro. Again when I took her to bed. A third time when I came back from being shot and discovered she’d whipped my crew into shape. Maybe I used to be a Dante who would’ve taken that open request for an answer and written my own will onto it. I can’t anymore. Not with her.

We drive back to the house on Staten Island in silence. El’s still quiet as we walk inside, past the guards.

“Go to the bedroom,