Frank takes my hand, pulling me back into reality. “I had to act before it all fell apart, Layla. Aaron was just that—a tool, a trigger.”
“You ordered him to rape me!”
He dismisses me with a wave of his hand. “Stop being so fucking dramatic. Do you think I don’t know what you’re capable of? I knew you wouldn’t let him take it that far. He was supposed to scare you, nothing more. It was all about an impulse...Danteneeded an impulse to act.”
“An impulse?!” I throw my hands in the air, my chest heaving, anger retaking the stage. “Where do you get these ideas from? You’re negating yourself! Everything was moving along well untilyoutold me to cut him loose! So, I did, and when he left me alone, you hired a guy torapeme so Dante would come back?! It doesn’t make sense!”
Frank clutches my arm hard enough to leave a bruise. “Don’t act like a dumb tramp.” He shoves me back, and I stumble over my own feet. “I told you to get rid of him because you acted like a lovesick puppy two days in! It wasn’t believable.”
“I’m not the only one who acted that way from the start.”
Frank smirks, nodding his head. “Yes, it turned out just as I anticipated.”
I hug myself protectively. “Dad...” My eyes travel from the ground to his face, and my shoulders sag with the weight of the confession. “I’m in love with him.”
“No, you’re not,” he replies, not missing a beat.
Frank always has it his way. Always the smartest, always the boss. He thinks denying my confession will make it go away, but I won’t let him dismiss me today. Julij’s words echo in my head, pushing me to act, to at leasttry.
“There are hundreds of examples in history where women saved the day.”
I’m lost in Dante, in love and being loved and cared for the way I’ve craved my whole life. I owe it to myself to at least try to end their war, to be the bridge that brings them back together.
“You just think you love him, Layla,” he clips, his tone condescending.“He’s the first man to touch, kiss, and fuck you. Of course, youthinkyou love him, but the truth is you’re young. You’re naïve, Layla. He’s manipulating you, and he’s fucking good at it. Don’t be stupid. You’re a tool in his hands.”
My chest squeezes, pain radiating all over my body. Frank’s right. I am a tool in the hands of a man who wants to gain half of Chicago. But Dante isn’t that man.
Frank is.
“Dante’s charming, but he’s still our enemy, sweet girl. Yours and mine,” he says, his voice softer, filled with remorse. “You’ve got to remember that because he’s the only thing standing in our way. He’s the only thing stopping us from building the family you want.”
The idealistic image of a family tempts me as much as Dante. Giving up on either is impossible and unavoidable at the same time. Desertion is not a part of the plan. I’m not supposed to care about Dante. I’m not supposed to love him.
“Can’t you just leave the past where it belongs?” I beg, my voice barely a whisper as tears pool in my eyes. “For me? Can’t you work together?”
My head turns to the side when Frank backhands me hard, his face bright red with barely controlled fury. The urge to touch the burning skin disappears when the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. My lungs shrink in half, eyes fall shut. I fight the panic, pushing away the image of blood trickling down my chin.
Frank’s impulsiveness terrifies me just as much as blood. He’s short-tempered and cruel, but he’s never hit me before. My heart races, but I remain glued to the spot, watching him, the image distorted by tears. For the first time in a while, I have a chance to take a good, hard look at him. We didn’t spend much time together these past years, so I hadn’t noticed how gray he turned despite only being thirty-five. He’s tired, his eyes a sea of regret and disdain.
“Layla,” he whispers, touching my shoulder. “You have to trust me. It’ll all be over soon. With Nikolaj’s death approaching, I had to alter the plan. This won’t last much longer, I promise. Just stay strong. When it’s over, I’ll finally be able to give you everything you want. I won’t focus on Dante anymore. I’ll be the father you deserve. I promise. Iswear,sweet girl.”
He wraps his arm around me, the height of his ability to show feelings. I soak up his closeness like a sponge. It’s so rare to have him close. Even when I was a little girl, he used to hug me as a last resort and only when I came over to him.
“You always wanted to go to Europe,” he says, pushing me away. “France, Italy, Portugal. I’ll take you wherever you want when this is over. “I’ll have time to make up for all those years I wasn’t there for you.” He starts walking again, this time towards the house. “Your relationship has no future, Layla. Sooner or later, Dante will hurt you, or worse—he’ll find out that you willingly participated in this.”
I stop in my tracks, and a cold sweat breaks out on my neck as I read between the lines. He’s not saying that to tell me that Dante mightaccidentallyfind out. He’s informing me that if I don’t hold up my end of the deal, he’ll do everything in his power to make Dante aware.
And if he finds out, he won’t just hate me.
He’llkillme.
I’m fighting a losing battle. My feelings don’t matter. It doesn’t matter how much I want the ending to look different. One of them will end up in a coffin. I need to fulfill my duty, or I’ll be the one to end up six feet under. When I agreed to help Frank, I never imagined that Dante would be everything I ever wanted. I didn’t think he’d give me everything, expecting little in return.
If I could, I’d turn back time and never agree to help Frank, sparing myself the most challenging choice of my life. I’d still have no father, but I wouldn’t have Dante...
I wouldn’t love a man I have to betray.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE