I took Karina’s hand in mine. “You know this is how it has to be. I chose her, and just by doing that I’ve already put her in harm’s way, which is why I have to do everything I can to keep her safe.” I etched my gaze on hers. “I’m sorry.”
A tear slipped down my little sister’s face, and it killed me to know I was the cause of it.
“I get it, Dante. I do. I just hope she knows what you’re giving up for her.”
I let go of her hand and glanced out the window. Not only was I a selfish bastard for not being willing to live without Layla, but I was also a selfish bastard by keeping my life, what it truly meant to be a Valenti, from her. The fear of losing her had turned me in to a coward. And I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, of who I truly was. Whenever she looked at me, it was with love and passion in her eyes. I never wanted to lose that—the way she looked at me.
Karina touched my elbow. “She doesn’t know, does she?”
I shook my head. “And I will do everything in my goddamn power to keep her from ever finding out.”
Karina let her hand slip to the top of mine, her fingertips brushing against the skin where the wolf which represented our family was proudly inked. I had it done on my eighteenth birthday, a simple act to show my loyalty to our family. Once that tattoo was inked on your skin, it was engraved on your fucking soul. But then I met her, the girl who changed everything. It was no longer the tattoo on my hand which determined my loyalty. It was my heart. My heart had chosenforme, and it chose her. Layla.
“I understand,” she said softly. “And I hope one day I’ll find what you found in Layla. But Antonio, he won’t understand. He will never forgive you.”
I snorted. “Yeah, I have no doubt about that. But that’s the difference between Antonio and me. He wants to prove himself to everyone. He wants to build his life around this family. That’s how I feel about Layla, only I don’twantto build my life around her…Ineedto build my life around her.” I shrugged. “She’s my air, Karina. Without her, I can’t fucking breathe.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. I knew this was hard for her. It was hard for me too. Karina and I had been inseparable ever since I could remember. Antonio was too busy trying to be the perfect child to have any kind of sibling relationship with us. But that was okay, because we had each other.
And now…I was leaving.
Karina narrowed her eyes. “Dante, did you say Layla?”
“I…I don’t know.” I clutched the phone tighter in my palm. “I think it was her.”
Karina walked up to me. “Are you sure?”
“No. No, I’m not sure.”
Lorik held his hands in the air. “Can someone please tell me who the fuck is Layla?”
Karina and I stared at each other, her dark brown eyes filled with sympathy. My little sister knew the pain I had lived with, the broken heart I had carried in my chest for years. There was a saying that only time could heal a broken heart. Well, I called bullshit. My heart was anything but healed. In fact, it was the bitter, broken pieces left behind, pulsing behind my ribs, that fueled the heartless bastard in me to fuck for nothing but pleasure.
Karina stepped closer. “Dante—”
I held up my hand and turned to Lorik. “I need you to get these phone calls traced.”
He crossed his arms. “Okay, but will you tell me who the fuck is Layla?”
I took a deep breath, the mere thought of talking about her choking me. I bit my lower lip as her face rushed through my head, my chest tightening with every memory.
“Just…” I swallowed. “Just get that motherfucking call traced.”
And then I stormed off. I couldn’t…there was no way I could explain to Lorik who Layla was—who she was to me. Just saying her name out loud was painful enough.
The more I thought about the phone call, the voice, the more I started to wonder if it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me. If maybe it was me who wanted to hear her voice so damn much I imagined it was her…saying my name.
I clenched my fists while rushing toward the bar. The fucking bourbon was calling me, begging me to consume it. Alcohol and pussy were the only two things strong enough to fight off the memories, to numb the heartache. Pussy wasn’t at my disposal right now, but alcohol was. And judging by the way my heart was pounding, I was going to need a fuck-load of it.
Luckily for me, there was a full bottle standing on the bar waiting just for me.
Once I poured a good amount of bourbon into the glass, I gulped it back with one mouthful. My eyes closed as the sting of the alcohol traveled down my throat, the burn settling in my stomach. But I still saw her beautiful face, amber eyes, and heart-shaped lips. The vivid image of her was so real it was like I had only seen her yesterday. After five years, I had hoped the memories would fade, slowly but surely disappearing from my mind…my heart. I should have guessed it would never happen. Not with her. Not after what we shared. Pity it didn’t mean the same to her as it did to me. If it did, we would have been together, living the life we had planned. But she left. She fucking left without a goddamn word.
“Fuck!” I threw the glass and watched as it shattered into pieces against the wall—just like my heart the day she left.
Chapter 3
Dante