No use worrying about what should have been.
She had to deal with facts.
“Papa took his stand. He won’t change his mind.” She wouldn’t let him.
“Oh,” Sasha said faintly. “Good. But what happens now?”
“Now we wait.” She hated the inaction, but it was the only course. Casimir had showed his hand by attacking her. She didn’t understand why he’d gone about it that way. If they wanted to remove Rose, a sniper would have been more effective. Most likely it was a crime of opportunity. He’d seen her and gone for it. “Papa sent a demand for an explanation, but we can’t do much until they respond.” One way or another, either with an actual explanation or with an attack.
There was no way the Mad Wolf was wandering around Northern California without orders, but it was always possible they’d try to play it that way. She’d asked Papa what would happen if they claimed innocence, and he got a pinched look on his face that worried her. Rose cleared her throat. “Until then, we act like normal.”
“Normal.” Anya raised her brows. “Normally, we go out for drinks on Friday nights.”
“Da.”
Sasha pressed her hand to her mouth. “You can’t honestly expect us to leave the house. What if something happens?”
“It’ll be fine.” Anya waved that away. “We’ll go to Red’s. It’s one of ours, and we own every single person in that place. If anyone so much as looks at us sideways, they’re dead.”
Rose wished she had her sister’s confidence, but her reality had been rocked and then rocked again in the past week. She couldn’t take anything for granted. Still, her father had requested this, and she agreed with his reasoning. “Anya’s right. It’s nearly as safe as being home.”
Sasha didn’t look convinced, but she finally nodded. “If you’re sure.”
“We don’t have a choice.” The conflict with Jovan’s people had already started, and the fucked-up thing was that perception played into the power structure. If the first thing Rose did upon being attacked was hide away, no one would believe she could be a strong leader. She had to keep up appearances, to move as if she were untouchable even though she still wore the marks from Casimir’s hands on her throat. They’d faded to a sickening green and yellow, and it made her ill to look at them in the mirror.
He’d almost killed her.
If Dante hadn’t shown up when he did…
But no, she couldn’t afford to think about Dante. Not now. Not ever. If he had a drop of sense, he’d stay in LA, where it was relatively safe. And she’d stay here in NYC, engaged in the beginnings of a battle that could mean the death of everyone she cared about. They might have the home court advantage, but Jovan had the people and the kind of experience that would give even an experienced combatant pause. If they went to war, Rose’s family might win, but it wouldn’t be without great loss.
Distractions could get the people she loved killed, and Dante was nothing but a giant distraction. She’d never see him again, and that was a good thing.
Maybe one day she’d even believe it.
Chapter 19
Rose looked good. Really fucking good. She wore a golden dress that hugged her curves, leaving little to the imagination for all that it covered her from neck to wrists and down to mid-thigh. The subtle textured pattern caught the light with every move, and Dante clenched his hands with the need to run his palms over it.
Not yet.
He finished his drink, paid for it, and moved down the back hall toward the bathrooms. The bar owners obviously knew their clientele, and so there were four of them, each single occupancy. An extravagant addition, and it suited his purposes perfectly.
Dante considered his options, eyed the camera perched above the back door, and ducked into the alcove tucked next to the bathrooms. It had a phone, and he picked it up, holding it to his ear as he leaned back a bit so he could see the hall.
He heard Rose’s laugh trail in his direction and ducked back into the alcove. A few seconds later, heels clipped in her familiar stride as she moved down the hall. He counted her steps, and when she turned into the bathroom, he replaced the phone in the cradle and followed her in, pushing her ahead of him and shutting and locking the door behind them in a smooth move.
“What the fuck?”
He pressed his hand over her mouth. “Shhh, amata. We need to have a conversation.”
Her hazel eye went wide, but she let him back her against the counter and pin her there with his body. Being pressed against her again went straight to his head. Mine. He knew better than to say it aloud, especially in this moment. “I have one question for you.”