EleniA couple days later, I close one of my assigned readings and check the time. Too early for lunch. Too late to start something new. I glance at my phone, sitting on the couch next to me in the living room. I’ve been missing Mama a lot lately. Maybe… Maybe one call won’t hurt.I’m dialing almost before I finish the thought. My heart hammers. What am I going to tell her if she asks about Christos? Or Dante?She picks up after a few rings. “Hello? Who is—”“Mama!” I squeal.“Zouzouni?” she asks disbelievingly. “I thought—I mean, I feared—”“I’m all right, Mama,” I say. “Safe and sound.”Her broken sob crackles through the phone. “Why did you not call sooner? Oh, I was so worried.”“I’m sorry, Mama.” Tears sting my own eyes, and I wish she was here to hug. “It wasn’t safe.”“To call? That Dante lies to you,” she says. “It is always safe to call your mama.”I know that’s not true after my weeks in the boss’ chair, but I don’t disagree with her. “How are you? I want to hear everything.
DanteI trudge into Piacere as the sun starts to dip low in the sky. Long day at the docks today. It needed to be done—some of my foremen get uppity if I don’t check in often enough—but fuck, I hate docks days. The regular LEDs cast my club in an unattractive light, destroying all the magic. I shamble past janitors cleaning up and dancers in sweats practicing routines on the poles. I’m actually looking forward to the paperwork awaiting me downstairs because it means I get to sit my ass down for a second.On a whim, I pause at the bar and wait for Carla to walk over.“Send a glass of scotch down to my office.” I think for a moment. “Maybe just send the decanter.”My club manager nods sharply. “The decanter would be smart. You have a guest.”“A guest?” My eyebrows shoot up. “Who the hell did you let into my office?”“A woman who swore up and down she knew you.” Carla raises her hands defensively. “She had the phrase.”I spin away from the bar and scowl as I storm down to my office. The
Eleni“Wait, there’s seriously a ceremony?” I ask as I pick through a wooden tray of pears for the best ones.Seb glances at the stall owner. “Yes. Do you know you talk very loud?”I roll my eyes and pay for the three pears. “We’re in the middle of one of the busiest farmer’s markets in Brooklyn on a Saturday afternoon. I’d discuss the nuclear codes here if I had them. Now tell me, what exactly does the ceremony for becoming a capo entail? I skipped that step.”He laughs and accepts the bag I hand him. This has become something of a routine for us. Dante said being a boss, even a part-time one, means having at least one bodyguard at all times, and Seb was an easy pick. He’s actually fun to talk to and hangs out instead of hovering three feet behind me at all times.“It’s not like a graduation ceremony, if that’s what you’re picturing.”“I was picturing something much more Arthurian,” I say. “Like Dante with a big sword, knighting you.”He shakes his head. “Try again.”“It’s a big gun!
DanteI walk into my house after another long day at Piacere trying to figure out if Cal Duncan’s information is worth anything, and I have nothing on my mind but a quiet night at home with El. The empty foyer echoes with my footsteps, but she’s been working on getting ready for school in her office upstairs, so I trudge up.At the top of the stairs, the door to Eleni’s office stands closed, but my—our?—bedroom door is open, and light spills out onto the floor. I frown and walk in.“Dante!” Eleni leans out of the bathroom. A few perfect curls swing away from her updo, and a long, silver earring that kind of looks like an elegant stick jingles. “You’re earlier than I thought.”“Sorry?” I step farther into the room and realize she’s just wearing a towel. “Did I forget we had plans?”She laughs. “It’s a surprise.”I nod slowly, trying to put together the clues. Fancy hair. Two garment bags sit on the bed. She’s smiling.“Yeah, I got nothing,” I say.She steps out of the bathroom and kiss
EleniI take one last bite of the airy sorbet that the stuffy waiter brought for dessert and look at Dante. He’s barely glanced away from me since we stopped talking about work, and my body burns with it. I slide my leg out from under the long tablecloth, letting it catch my skirt and exposing inch after inch of skin. He watches me with darkening eyes.“Put that away,” he says.I smile. “Why?”“Because I don’t share well.”I tuck my leg back under the table. Seeing him relax after days of walking around in a fog is satisfying, though, and I’m not sure I want to give everything up yet. I toe out of one heel and run my foot up the inside of his calf.“How sure are you that you can wait?” I ask.He grasps the edge of the table. “What are you doing?I chuckle and keep running my foot smoothly up and down. “That’s not an order.”He meets my gaze. “Don’t expose yourself here, pet.”My skin goes hot. We’ve never played like this in public before. I don’t even know if he sees the loophole he’
EleniThe rising sun peeks through the heavy hotel curtain as I lean back into Dante’s hands in the massive bathtub. He smooths conditioner over my hair, the final step in our now usual aftercare routine. I sigh and continue picking up the pieces of myself that scatter when he takes me apart like that. Still, I always return to myself looser-limbed and more at ease than before.Dante drops a kiss on my soapy shoulder. “How are you doing, El?”“Good.” I smile. “You?”He chuckles. “Grateful that little stunt didn’t get us kicked out of the restaurant. I liked the food.”I grin. “And the blowjob?’“Now I know you’re back.” He shakes his head. “The blowjob, I can get at home. Or anywhere else, it seems.”I stretch out as I laugh. Through the soapy water, I can just see my tanned legs next to Dante’s longer, paler ones. I tangle my ankle with his just to feel him in more places.“Do you ever daydream about that?” I ask.Dante removes his hands from my hair. “Don’t rinse yet, it needs to si
EleniA few weeks after the hotel date, I look over the table of classes on my laptop one last time and shut it with a smile. My first registration at Tandon, and I got all the classes I wanted! I text Dante about my success and laugh when he responds with a huge thumbs-up. He texts like he protects his data, but I’ve grown used to the labyrinth of old-timey habits and emoji usages. He’s thrilled. And, with any luck, bored out of his mind at Piacere. He put out the hooks for potential rats to snap up a little while ago, and nothing has caught yet. That means a full day of sitting around waiting for disaster, which makes him feel, in his words, “like a fireman without a fire,” so he’s been coming home a little grumpy, but watching his mood improve as soon as he sees me makes it really easy not to take personally. Plus, we’re now going on—I check the date—just about two and a half weeks without any deaths in the organization. The quiet made getting ready for school a lot easier. Dante
EleniGianna—whom I now hate—picks up on my bitchy mood after our run-in with Camila and not only makes me stay at brunch long enough to sober up but comes home with me and hangs out for the rest of the day, inventing new activities every time I get bored enough to get pissed about Camila all over again.My phone vibrates on the edge of the bathtub next to me. I glance at it. A text from Dante, letting me know he’s on his way home. I lift it and silently show the screen to Gianna.“Perfect.” She caps the bright-blue nail polish bottle in her hands. “I just finished.”I wiggle my neon-painted toes. “You know you didn’t have to stick around all day, right?”She shakes her head and stands. “You’d think you never had a best friend before.”“I haven’t,” I admit.She takes my hand, the expression on her face softening. “Fuck, I didn’t realize.”I shrug. “It’s not a big deal, really. I had friends. I was just too busy with The Greek Corner to ever become anybody’s go-to.”“It absolutely is a
AngeloA sharp beep echoes from the garage downstairs and jerks me out of sleep.For a second, I think it’s part of a dream. I lie still, blinking at the ceiling. But something feels off—too quiet, too empty.I don’t need to look to my side to know she’s gone.I feel it.The air is colder. The silence heavier.I sit up, scanning the room. The door is open. Lights off. Nothing.Then I notice it—my gun, keys, and wallet are missing.“Fuck,” I growl, bolting out of bed. I yank on my pants and shove my arms through my shirt like I’m racing death itself. My chest tightens, adrenaline slamming through my veins like a freight train.She took my car, my weapon, and my goddamn trust.“You can’t do this to me, Tatiana,” I mutter, storming into the hallway. My voice is hoarse, laced with anger and something far worse—fear.“She’s gone!” I shout down the corridor, pounding on Dice’s door without waiting. “Get the fuck up—we’ve got a problem.”Dice swings the door open already halfway dressed, eye
*Tatiana*Angelo and I ended up in bed after our talk on the porch. Not because we reached an understanding—we didn’t. We’re still standing on opposite sides of a line neither of us is willing to cross. But I knew pushing him harder would only cause more damage.So, I hold my tongue.For now, keeping the peace meant swallowing my pride, locking my thoughts away, and playing the role of someone willing to wait.It’s after midnight. Rain pounds against the windows like a warning—fierce, unrelenting. Angelo lies asleep beside me, peaceful, unaware of the storm brewing right here in this bed.I watch him for a long moment, memorizing the shape of him, the warmth of him, just in case this is the last time.Sleep won’t come, so I reach for the tablet on my nightstand. I browse for a while—news, maps, dead ends. Then, on impulse, I check my old email. I haven’t opened it since I left Russia. I expect spam, junk, maybe nothing at all.What I don’t expect is a message from Lev.Dated the night
*Tatiana*I grit my teeth and force myself not to roll my eyes. Throwing a tantrum won’t help—but that doesn’t stop the anger simmering just beneath my skin. I don’t like the way Angelo drew that line between us. Cold. Sharp. Final.It’s not just that he’s shutting me out. It’s how he’s doing it—like I’m still some piece on his chessboard, a liability to manage. A prisoner, technically. But from him? That’s a slap in the face.He’s across the kitchen, body rigid, watching me. I ignore him. If he wants distance, fine. I’ve had worse from men with half his brain and twice his ego.I focus on the window, jaw tight. I will find a way to be useful, whether he lets me or not. I didn’t survive this long just to be benched.“Give me a cigarette,” Angelo mutters, moving toward Sal and snatching the pack from the table.My gaze flicks over in time to see the tension in his shoulders, the anger in his hands.He doesn’t smoke. Hasn’t since I got here.“Sure you wanna do that?” Kian asks, brows ra
AngeloI pull myself from the bed and get dressed, still feeling the rush from my quick encounter with Tatiana. As much as I want to spend more time with her, I know I can't afford to linger. Work’s been piling up, and I’ve been slacking lately—ever since things started getting heated between us. The Saints need me, and I can’t ignore them.Keeping an eye on Tatiana, as per Tony’s orders, has also taken a lot of my focus. I haven’t had a chance to personally discuss with him yet what Tatiana shared with me about her past and her involvement with the Rominas, but I know that Sal and Dice have already filled him in. I just hope Tony doesn’t see her as a liability or a potential threat, but instead, as an ally."Can I ask you something?" Tatiana’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She’s lying there, looking up at me, her lashes fluttering in that way I know always gets me."Sure," I reply, trying to sound casual. I walk back toward her but keep my distance so we don’t end up going for ro
TatianaThe morning sun warms my skin, stirring me gently from sleep. I stretch my arms above my head, muscles loosening as a sense of peace settles over me. It’s strange how a good night’s sleep can reset everything—my mood, my resolve, even my sense of purpose. Today, I feel new. Whole.Turning to my side, I gaze at Angelo. He’s still asleep, facing me, his features relaxed and soft in the quiet light. I take him in—the curve of his lips, the strong line of his jaw, those unruly dark curls that slip over closed eyes, guarded by lashes so long they could make any woman jealous.He looks like a different man when he’s asleep—unbothered, weightless. Awake, he carries the world like it’s chained to his back.A part of me wants to believe I’m the reason for that peace. That I’m helping him, in the way he’s helped me—just by being here, by seeing him, really seeing him, the way that no one else has. Just as he’s able to see me differently.My heart pounds as flashes of the past two weeks
*Tatiana*Getting to finally meet two other members of the Saints feels somewhat… exciting. I was shocked to see the one I had cut while running away from the wedding was part of their gang. This whole time, I’d just assumed that he had been working for Oleg. At least he doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge against me, which is a relief.The other one, though—Dice—was harder to convince that he can trust me, but in the end, I think they both believed me and my story. I still don’t know the plans they have for me, and I assume they need to tell their boss what I’ve disclosed first, but surprisingly, I’m not that worried about my future anymore. I know Angelo won’t leave me on the street by myself. He’ll find a way to keep me protected, even if his boss tells him I’m of no use to them anymore.Maybe I can return to Russia and start again somehow. The mere thought of leaving Angelo behind hurts my heart, but if that’s what it comes to in the end, I’ll have to find a way. It’s a bit alar
AngeloTatiana and I spend the rest of the day in her room, only leaving for dinner, and we’re back in bed before midnight. The house is empty because the rest of the team had to go to a meeting with Tony and left me here watching her—since, in their words, I already know how to deal with her.I wanted to punch the smirks off their faces, but they weren’t wrong.I also don’t want them near Tatiana while they’re still so suspicious of her. That would only scare her. And now that she’s shared everything with me, I’m more convinced than ever that I was right all along—she was never a threat.There’s no way she could be such a good actor and lie about her past. I saw the pain in her eyes, the hatred, and the guilt she carries. It’s the exact same look I see in the mirror when I stare at myself.I told her I didn’t think I could hate Oleg any more than I already did, but now that I know what he put her through… God, rage boils inside me to the point I can barely control it.Luca, Tatiana’s
*Tatiana*I lie against Angelo’s chest, staring blankly at the wall, his thumb circling gentle caresses on my back. The sun is setting outside, and I have lost track of how long we’ve been here. For all I care, we could just stay here forever. I wouldn’t mind.I wonder where the other guys are or if they know what we’re doing in here, but I don’t bother to ask ngelo about it. Not that I’m embarrassed about what we did, but we’re supposed to be enemies, kidnapper and kidnapped. This isn’t how things were supposed to evolve between us.I bet they hate me for not giving them what they want, for wasting their time, and for fucking Angelo–something they’re all probably aware of by now.But what can I do? It’s not like I forced him to sleep with me. I didn’t even try that hard to seduce him.“What are you thinking about?” he whispers against my head, placing a soft kiss on my temple.“Not much,” I reply with a shrug.“I doubt that,” he says, continuing his featherlight strokes on my skin.H
*Tatiana*“Then what is the problem?” I stare into Angelo’s eyes, waiting for him to explain why he’s suddenly being so cold to me.His body language is fuckng confusing as hell. I see desire in his eyes, but he’s keeping his distance from me. I wish he would stop playing games and just be upfront with me. I don’t have time for bullshit right now.“Listen, you already know the situation we’re in. I don’t want to lie to you or pretend everything is okay because it is not,” he begins. The weight of this presses down on him enough that his shoulders slump a little.“I know,” I state firmly. “I’m not a child. I understand the situation we’re in right now. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that.” If he only knew the things I’ve seen…. I take another bite of my steak, but I’m no longer hungry. I force myself to eat anyway since I don’t know when I’ll have another chance to.. If this conversation goes south, this might be my last meal of the day, so I’d better force it down.Angelo sig