“I’ll pick you up at eight.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Layla
Frank waits outside the house with a glass of whiskey and a cigar. He stands at the top of the concrete steps, his face impassive as he watches the Dodge park by the three-space garage. Beside him, like an oversized statue, stands Adam.
Luca keeps the engine running when Dante leaves to let Aaron out of the trunk.
“Thank you.” I say, meeting his gaze in the mirror.
He flips the lights on, illuminating the confined space, then turns around, gracing me with a tight-lipped nod.
“Let me go!” Aaron screams outside.
I open the door when Dante shoves him to the ground, and makes him kneel on the gravel, aiming a gun at the back of his head.
“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” he clips.
Aaron falls silent once he notices my father descending the steps, gracing him with his signature you’re-worth-less-than-shit-on-my-shoe look before he raises his gaze to the man standing behind him. Instead of disdain or irritation, Frankie looks at Dante with respect.
“It was supposed to be a gift,” he says, eyeing Aaron with a menacing scowl. “It’s not wrapped, and you fucking broke it,” he chuckles, clasping his hand with Dante, a rare, genuine smile on his lips.
My eyebrows shoot up.What is going on?Frank isfunny. He never jokes around. It’s been months since he smiled. After everything he told me about Dante, I expected a much colder, hateful greeting, but they shook hands like the dearest of friends. No snarky remarks or threats... it almost looks as if my father is happy to see Dante as if he missed him.
Mafia men and their stupid code of honor.
Frank flicks his wrist—a silent order for Adam. Ten seconds later, Aaron’s locked in the trunk again, but he’s not fighting or screaming this time. I don’t dare defend him in front of Frank. Harsh consequences would follow for such deliberate insubordination.
Frankie moves his gaze from Dante to me, eyes roving my face with mild interest. “You good?” He never cares about my well-being, so his concern, however fake, is surprising.
“I’m okay.”
“Then goodnight,” he says, insinuating that the rest of their conversation isn’t meant for my ears.
I spin around, looking at Dante. “Thank you.”
“Goodnight, Star.”
I spend the better part of Saturday waiting for Frank to come home so I can tell him about my plans for the evening. Dante earned an ounce of my trust last night, muting Frank’s arguments. I’m sure he’ll try to talk me out of seeing Dante, but I’m not changing my mind. I know what I’m doing; either he trusts me, or I prove him wrong without his blessing.
I open my closet, skimming the contents, looking for something I could wear tonight, but nothing stands out. I take my phone, dialing Allie’s number. “How busy are you?”
“Not very. Why?” she asks.
“You need to help me get ready for tonight. Can you please come over?”
“Another date with Aaron?!” she screams in my ear. “How was it last night? Tell me everything! No! Don’t tell me anything. I’ll be there in twenty! Make me some coffee.”
I collapse on the bed, sinking between a dozen fluffy pillows. Convincing Allie that Dante and I are a good idea might be more challenging than convincing Frank to let me out tonight. Her opinion’s irrelevant, but I’d rather not lose her friendship if it can even be considered that. Genuine or fake, she’s the only friend I’ve got.
She arrives, as promised, with two minutes to spare and a few trunks full of make-up and hair supplies. “So? Did Aaron pass the test?” She snatches a steaming cup of coffee from the table. “Go on! Tell meeverything! Did you guys hook up?”
“It’s not Aaron I want to look nice for tonight. Dante’s picking me up at eight.”
“Dante?” She pulls her eyebrows together. “DanteCarrow? Like... how stupid are you, babe?! Layla, he’s your dad’s enemy. He’ll use you, and—”
“You don’t know the first thing about him. Stop trying to educate me. Just be happy that I’m happy. that I care about someone who cares about me too.”