“Layla—”
There was a knock at the door.
“Fuck off!” I yelled.
“Dad wants to see you…and her.” Antonio slammed against the door. “Now!”
“Christ.” I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Just perfect fucking timing. Come on, let’s get this over with.”
She hesitated. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t worry, Layla. No one will hurt you. Not while I’m around.”
I held out my hand to her, after which she slowly reached out and placed her palm in mine.
I frowned. “You don’t know whether you can trust me or not…do you?”
“Do you blame me? I hurt you. I know that. What I don’t know is exactly how many scars I left behind.”
With a gentle tug, I pulled her closer. “You didn’t just hurt me. You fucking destroyed me. What you left behind was something much worse than mere scars, Layla.” I stepped forward, leaving no space between us. “Ever since you left, I tried to forget about you. To get over you. But guess what?” I softly brushed my knuckles down the side of her face. “I’m still not.”
A rush of air escaped her, the warmth of her breath wafting across my lips. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to tear her clothes off and remind her of what we shared with every thrust of my cock. But we had Daddy Dearest to face first. And God knew, my dad was probably on the verge of bursting an artery—he and Antonio both.
“Come on.”
With slow steps, she followed me. Every now and then I glanced her way. Sorrow and pain were all I saw on her face. Her clothes were stained with dried blood, and her hair was a mess. But to me, it wasn’t possible for her to look anything but beautiful.
We entered the dining room. Everyone was already there except Lucio. My guess was he had been given the task of taking care of Kate. This was a family matter—which meant it was a personal matter.
I looked straight at my dad. “You summoned us.”
He stared over my shoulder. “Hello, Layla. It’s nice to see you again, although I wish it was under better circumstances.”
She stepped in next to me. “Hello, Mr. Valenti.”
His gaze swept over her. “I think you should clean up. I’m sure you’ll feel much better when you do.”
I clutched her hand tighter. “Layla stays with me.”
“Dante, the woman is covered in blood. The least you can do is let her clean up in goddamn peace.”
“I repeat…Layla stays with me.”
My dad narrowed his eyes at me, but I wouldn’t be intimidated by anyone when it came to her.
“Fine,” he conceded before pouring himself a drink. “It seems your actions today have put our family in quite the predicament.”
I snorted. “You say that like I care.”
He shot a warning glare my way. “You should. You acted foolishly, putting every member of this family in danger. The least you can do is fucking care!” He raised his voice with every word, but I wasn’t the twelve-year-old boy who cowered under his father’s wrath anymore. I was a grown man, and I knew how to stand my ground.
“I did what needed to be done.”
“You gave the Mancusos what they needed to declare war against us.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Dad. We’ve been at war with them for years.”
He studied me, disapproval written all over his face. Lucky for me, I was long past the time when I needed his approval for anything.