Vows and Vendettas

Chapter 15

Dante

Unease claws its way into my chest, leaving deep gouges in its wake. It is a feeling that I’m not accustomed to. I prefer being the reason other people can't sleep at night. So, when Luca’s lips curl upward in a sneer before he turns and disappears into the darkness. No shout. No threat. No attempt to get closer.

Just that f*cking smile.

“What are you glaring at?” Blair asks.

I hadn't realized that she had turned and was currently watching me the entire time. She pushes against my bare chest until she can see through the windshield herself. Thankfully, her ex was already gone, but that doesn't stop the valley that forms between her brows.

“Dante?”

“It’s nothing,” I answer quickly. f**k. Voss has me jumpier than I think I've ever been before. Softening my tone to make sure that Blair believes me, I cup both sides of her face with my hands. “It was nothing. Let’s go home.”

Her face crunches up like she would prefer to say something instead but decides against it. She slides from my lap and back onto the leather seat next to me. Quickly, I tuck myself back into my boxers and fasten my dress pants before helping Blair with the fastenings at the back of her neck and zipping the back of her dress once again.

“You know that speech you gave me before this started,” she says as she shimmies the hemline of her dress back into position. “It goes both ways and for everything.” She turns and faces me now. Her lipstick is long gone at this point. But her blue eyes seem to hold me in a vice grip that is impossible to look away from. “You were the one who said that this marriage was real.”

“That’s because it is real, moglie.” Wife.

I cracked open the door next to me and whistled before closing it again. A second later, both of the doors in the front open. Cass slips into the driver's seat while Rocco slips into the passenger one. Neither one of them looks in our direction.

“You know you don't have to call them like they’re dogs, right?” she whispers.

Turning, I raised a brow at her and smiled. “If you say so.”

It takes fifteen minutes for her to drift off, her body fully relaxed and pressed next to mine. Her head rests against my shoulder while her arms are wrapped around my upper arm like I am her personal body pillow.

Cass catches my eye in the rear-view mirror, and I shake my head. Talking right now is too risky. Blair could wake up at any second, and I don't want her to overhear anything that I can't explain just yet. Lights from the passing streetlights illuminate the interior of the SUV every so often. I end up staring at her while she sleeps.

How did someone like Blair choose to be with a snake like Luca? They wouldn't have anything in common other than their background. Blair also isn't a sweet, mild-mannered woman. Can she be when necessary? Absolutely. I’ve seen it over the years. But with her friends and with me, she lets the fire in her come out a little more. Hell, she even stood up to her father the night he told her about the broken engagement. She was about ready to spit nails out. And tonight she was all soft and sweet again with her father.

I managed to rouse her just long enough to make it out of the car. She takes two steps, and her legs wobble like she is a newborn giraffe that's learning to walk for the first time. It's quite cute.

“Come here,” I said as I bent and scooped her into my arms.

Blair squeals softly, her arms circling around my neck. Her blue eyes widen in surprise for a moment before her lids droop once again. A sleepy little smile tugs at her lips as she nuzzles her face just under my chin.

“Well, aren't you being quite the gentleman tonight,” she sighs, her breath whispering across my throat.

The sharp click of my shoes echoes through the empty garage. My chest shakes with a laugh that I can't contain. “I am shocked that you would use the word gentleman. I feel like you have thought far worse things about me since we met.”

“And what descriptions do you think that I would classify you as?”

“Brute. Controlling. Possibly an as*hole.”

“Definitely an as*hole.” She pats my chest like it's her attempt to soften the blow.

“Sweetheart, as*hole is probably the nicest thing you could call me.”

Something about the way she has become comfortable enough to tease me while in my arms does something strange inside my chest. Maybe it's just from the aftereffects of her orgasm. The euphoric feeling making her more pleasantly relaxed.

The elevator doors open, courtesy of Cass, who steps aside for me to enter with Blair still in my arms. When they open again onto the foyer of the penthouse, I step out at the same time that Michael pushes open the door with an amused grin plastered all over his face as I pass him.

I head straight for our master bathroom. Flipping on the lights and then dimming them just enough to not be so harsh, I set Blair on the counter next to the black porcelain sink. I know she is tired. The heaviness hasn't left her eyes yet, but I can feel them following me across the room to the large tub that sits near the windows that overlook the city.

I turn the tap and let the dark tub start to fill with hot water. Then I grab a towel and set it on the decorative stool that sits next to the tub. Turning back to face my wife, I watch her carefully. Her heels dangle from her feet, one dangerously close to hitting the floor. Her hair now hangs in messy waves against her shoulders.

“What? You don't plan on joining me?” she asks as her hands reach behind her back and the soft sound of the zipper to her dress fills the room.

“Is that an invitation?”

Her heels clatter to the tile floor just before she scoots off the edge of the counter, one hand moving behind her neck as she unclasps the halter of her dress. It falls down her hips a breath later, green fabric pooling around her ankles. I drink in every inch of her bare skin, glowing softly from the low lights.

Blair holds my gaze as she steps out of the puddle of fabric, a small, knowing glint in her eyes as she approaches. My chest seizes as she comes to a stop right in front of me, her fingers drifting along the front of my half-buttoned shirt.

“Maybe.”

A breath rushes out of me as I hurry to remove my own clothes.

“Come here, moglie,” I say, lifting her back into my arms and stepping over the edge of the bathtub. Wife.

She giggles as I lower myself into the hot water, bringing her down with me and settling her between my thighs, her back pressed against my chest. She settles against me, her entire body softening into mine as the water laps at our bodies. As soon as the water is high enough, I turn it off, and the entire bathroom goes silent, except for our breathing.

“I meant what I said at the restaurant,” she says, suddenly breaking the quiet.

“What’s that?”

She shifts in my arms so that she can see my face over her shoulder. Her expression is soft yet serious at the same time.

“That you aren't so bad.”

The tightness in my chest is another feeling that I am unaccustomed to experiencing. I don't necessarily dislike the feeling; I just don't know how to process it. Her father had asked if I was treating her well. It was meant to be a normal question, but even then her answer had surprised me, even though I assumed that it had been nothing more than something meant to placate her father.

Now, after everything that's happened this evening, she is in my arms once again, telling me that I am not that bad. She doesn't know what I've done to get here. To maintain my control over the city. Luca isn't the first to try and overthrow me, and I am sure that he won't be the last.

“My mom would have liked you. She would have been over the moon to see me married to you,” she adds.

My lips twitch. So would that mean that she would like me more than the ass hat that she was going to marry? I don't ask. Somehow I know it would do nothing but ruin the easy acceptance that seems to have come over Blair. And I may be a not-so-bad as*hole, but I am not stupid enough to open my mouth.

“Tell me about her?”

My wife gets a faraway look as she stares out of the large windows, watching the moon and the stars twinkle from above. I can feel the tiny tremors that shake her chest like she is fighting to hold herself together in front of me.

I know a few details of her mother’s death. It was said to be a hit-and-run with no witnesses. Salvatore had everything about his late wife's death sealed almost instantly, and something about that fact never did sit right with me. But every man grieves the death of a spouse differently, I guess.

“I used to have her read five books before I would go to sleep. We would act out the characters together with different voices.” Her voice creaks, and so does something inside my chest. “Then she would wind up my jewelry box and the little ballerina would spin to the music until I drifted off.”

Her chin wobbles and I instinctively tighten my arms around her, bringing her closer to my chest.

“She always smelled like vanilla beans.” Her face drops as she looks down at the water. Her fingers swirl beneath the surface, causing tiny ripples over the top of the water.

I press my lips to the top of her head. “I am sorry that you lost her.”

The corner of her lips pulls up. “See, not so bad. You know when you're like this, you make it incredibly difficult to hold a grudge.”

I held her a little tighter again. The whole time, I am replaying everything that has happened in the past two months. The sabotage from Voss. My retaliatory attack by marrying Blair and slowly siphoning off his club workers. The accounts in Blair’s name. Voss’s reaction tonight didn't help either; it's almost as if he had been hoping for it.

And then her mom’s death. There was more to that story that she was unaware of. Anger coils deep inside my chest as a thought pops to the forefront of my mind. One that I hope I’m wrong about. We settled back into a silence until the water grew cold. I helped her out, dried her off with a towel, and dressed her in a simple T-shirt of mine that hung down to the middle of her thighs.

I settled into bed with her at my side. Her head resting against my chest. Lifting her chin with my finger, I lift her chin with my finger, coaxing her sleepy gaze to meet mine. “I know this isn't what you wanted, but just know that I will always protect and care for you. You are a Lazzari now.” I sigh and pinch her chin between my fingers softly. “You are my Queen.”

It takes her all of five minutes to fall back asleep, and once I am sure that she is sound asleep, I ease out from under her. She frowns, her face scrunching up in displeasure. I pulled the covers up to her chin before I sneaked out of the room and down to my office just down the hall.

The door is already slightly ajar, soft yellow light spilling out from the small crack. Both Cass and Rocco are sitting in the leather wingback chairs in front of my desk.

“Boss man is softening up,” Cass comments as soon as I walk through the door.

“Not soft enough to not shoot you in the f*cking knee if you annoy me bad enough,” I retort.

Rocco snickers at his side, and I glare at him, causing his laughter to dry up.

“What have you been able to find out?”

Cass and Rocco share a brief look. “Not much, honestly. Maggie hasn't overheard anything that can tell us what Voss is up to. He is keeping everything that involves Blair close to the chest,” Cass offers.

“Rightfully so. The fewer people that know, the less likely that we find out what he's up to,” Rocco chimes in.

“Atlas did find that the bank guy who was scared shitless when the two of you walked into the bank is the one that helped set up the accounts in your wife's name. Though the signatures on the paperwork don't match the one on the marriage certificate, so Voss more than likely just forged her signature to open the accounts and has been using those to hide the money,” Cass says, turning back to face me.

“Bold idea considering that he planned to be the one that was married to her by now.” I settle back into my chair and think over everything that I have learned about Voss and the way that family is run. “Has he realized that the money in those accounts is gone?”

Cass shrugs. “He hasn't reacted unless he wanted you to find them in the first place.”

That's possible, but with the substantial amount of money that was in those accounts, I would bet my entire control over Langston that that isn't the case. He didn't want anyone to find that money, and he thought that by placing the funds into his fiancée's name, no one would look twice at them.

“Has Blair mentioned anything that might give you a clue that can help us understand Voss’s long game?” Rocco asks.

My teeth grind at hearing how easily he refers to my wife by her first name. “No,” I bite out. “The last thing either of us wishes to talk about is him. She has been extremely protective of him, and even though she is warming up to me at this point, mentioning Luca Voss might not have the desired effect.”

“You don't need intimate details…” Cass starts.

The paperweight next to me flies across my desk and narrowly misses hitting Cass in the face.

“Say the word intimate in regard to my wife and that scum again, and I'll kill you myself.”

Cass raises his hands, but he still has that annoyingly cocky grin on his face. “Point taken. I only meant that…” I narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to continue. “Only meant that maybe she has some insight that none of us have thought of yet.”

He’s right, and as much as the idea of talking about Luca Voss and the relationship between him and my wife bothers me, I realized that there is some value to asking Blair. Even if it makes me want to commit a murder.