“All he cares about is business. Stick with Aaron. I’m telling you, he’s handsome, polite, and not a threat to your dad!”
I roll up my sleeves, uncovering bruised wrists. “He tried to rape me last night, and later on, if it weren’t for one of Dante’s men, two junkies would’ve probably killed me.” I wipe the thick layer of concealer off my cheek, showing her the cuts. I almost threw up this morning when I saw my reflection and the dried blood that must’ve seeped from the wounds during the night because I cleaned up before falling asleep. “You should’ve seen Dante,” I say with a small smile. “He was so worried... sofuriouswhen he found out what Aaron tried to do.”
Allie rolls her eyes, but her face brightens with a tight-lipped smile. She jumps on the bed, patting the space beside her, and widens. “Do tell!” She listens while I gush about my relationship with Dante so far, her cheeks pink, eyes wide. “Okay. Let’s say I won’t give you a hard time for choosing the biggest criminal in like thewholeofChicago, apart from your dad, as your new boyfriend. I won’t mention all the reasons he has to kill you, either. What’s in it for me?”
“My eternal gratitude and the canvas that is my face at your disposal whenever you feel like practicing.”
She clicks her tongue, unappeased. “Nice, but I was actually thinking about something like free entry to Delta. I can’t get past security even if Adam’s not around.”
Dante won’t change his mind about that, but there’s no harm in asking. Especially if it means getting Allie off my back. “I’ll see what I can do. Now, can you please tell me what I should wear? Nothing too out there. And it has to cover my bruised wrists and my scraped knee. Oh, and can you do something about this?” I point to my neck, where Aaron’s fingers marked my skin with ghastly, green bruises.
Allie narrows her eyes. “You got a snowsuit?”
I hurl a pillow at her when she hops off the bed and starts rummaging through my closet. Twenty minutes of back and forth later, we settle on a fitted green dress and cover the scraped knee with concealer.
She gives me a pair of black heeled boots, then points at the chair in front of the mirror. “I’d love to cut it all off,” she mutters, toying with my locks. “Short, asymmetrical bobs are likethething now.”
“I like my hair. I’ve been growing it out for four years.”
Half an hour later, a stylish bun appears at the back of my head, held in place by a single, long pin. After a long, unnecessary discussion, my make-up is kept to a minimum—concealer and mascara. I don’t like flashy make-up. Jess is the queen of the porn-star look. I’d rather not resemble her in any way.
“Hey, does Frankie know you’re off with Dante?”
“Not yet.” He left before I woke up and hasn’t returned since, as if he’s purposely avoiding me. “I’ve been waiting for him all day.”
“He’s downstairs. He was here when I came in.”
My palms sweat as I leave my bedroom, almost flying down the stairs. Frank sits at the antique desk in his office, surrounded by thick clouds of cigar smoke. He’s wearing a charcoal suit today, looking unapproachable. Women eye him up at every party hosted at our house, but Frank doesn’t care about them. He doesn’t even care about Jess.
Black curtains behind his back hide a large window, the only source of light in the room coming from a small desk lamp. Tall bookcases cover the left wall; old books, folders, and pictures of Frank with influential people fill the shelves.
I stop by the large, mahogany desk, hands behind my back so he can’t see I’m picking my nails. “Dante’s taking me out tonight. You can send Burly with me, but I am going.”
“I know.” He puffs out smoke through his nose like an enraged bull, eyeing me from head to toe to check if I look presentable. “He told me about it last night.” He glances over my shoulder, his jaw working.
I don’t need to check who lingers outside the door, listening to our every word. There’s only one person around, courageous enough to openly spy on us. In character I get, dropping a few questions I want answering, for now.
“I won’t lock you up,” Frank continues. “If you want to keep seeing Carrow, then do so, but keep your mouth shut, Layla. My business is just that. It’smine.”
“I thought you’d be mad...” I say, aiming for disbelief. I think I nailed it. My acting skills are nonexistent so thank God Jess is the only one who has to witness the show.
“Do I look happy? What more can I do? You’re young, naïve, and you think you’re in love. And Dante’s... as you mentioned...persistent. He made it clear last night that he won’t back down.”
In love? He got ahead of himself there but convincing him otherwise is impossible. Frank always knows best.
“He’s very possessive of you,” he says, his expression puzzled like he can’t understand why anyone would want me. “I don’t trust him, Layla. You shouldn’t either. Now, listen, and listen well because I’ll only say this once.” He swallows hard, his eyes softening while his tone remains clipped. “If you leave with him tonight, you’re on your own. I mean it, Layla. If things go south, don’t count on me. I won’t help you. Is that clear?”
One sentence plants a seed of doubt in my head. Does he mean it? Is this a warning? A test? No, he can’t mean it... surely, it’s all just for show.
I trust Dante, or at least I want to trust him but knowing no one will come to my rescue makes following my instinct that much harder. Then again, it wasn’t Frank helping me last night.
“I’ll remember that.” I bow low, mocking Adam.
Jess hooks her arm with mine when I step outside the office. “Don’t worry. He’s all talk, Layla. Besides...” she lowers her voice, “Dante’s so hot even I’d have a hard time resisting the man.”
I cringe at the mere thought of Jess and Dante together. I wriggle out of her embrace, walking back to the kitchen where Allie waits, holding my phone out for me.
“You’ve got a text from Prince Charming.”