“Why did your father give that order? Because he was a greedy bastard who fucked me over.”
I meet his gaze. “Is that why you took everything from us? To pay my father back in kind?”
His silence gives me the answer.
I’m almost scared to ask, but I need to know. “Was I part of the things you wanted to take away from my father? Is that why you chased me so hard, knowing I was promised to another man? Or did you think, ‘Hey, why not hit two birds with one stone and use stupid, naïve Tatiana to get information on her father’s movements while I’m ruining her?’”
“You were never stupid or naïve.”
He’s so wrong. “All those men… My mom, Dante…” I place a palm over the cross hanging on the chain beneath my T-shirt. My voice wobbles. “What did she ever do to you?”
Regret tightens his eyes. “She wasn’t supposed to be in the car that night.”
No, she wasn’t meant to go with my father, but she did. She went because of me. “So she was collateral damage? Is that what you’re going to tell me?”
That’s my fault. It’s my fault she’s dead.
His tone is subdued. “I’m sorry.”
I wipe at the wetness on my cheeks, not even aware that I’ve started crying. “No, you’re not. You’re not sorry, so don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I am sorry that it happened that way, and if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit you know that I mean it.”
“Is that supposed to absolve you? Do you really think sorry is going to cut it?”
“No.” He watches me with pity. Fucking pity. “Nothing I can do or say will bring her back.”
“You got what you wanted.” I blink through my tears. “You killed them, you ruined me, and you took over my father’s territory. What more do you want?”
He rounds the desk and comes to stand in front of me. “Your father gave the order, but he’s not the one who used his fists. He never did get his hands dirty. Do you know who delivered those punches while three men held Lee down and four pinned my face to the ground, making me watch?”
I want to slam my hands over my ears to block out the brutal murder he’s describing, but I simply stand there, frozen, listening to his tale because something like that, something so vile and painful, deserves a worthy listener.
He comes closer. “Do you want to know how he dealt the deathblow? He broke Lee’s windpipe, crunched it under the heel of his fancy Italian shoe.”
A violent shiver runs through me.
“He looked me straight in the eyes and laughed as I watched my brother choke on his own blood. He was still laughing when he wiped the blood on his sole off on my shirt. I never forgot those handmade shoes. To this day, your brother still wears them.”
I step away and almost stumble over my own feet. “Leander?”
Why doesn’t that surprise me? Leander has always had a mean streak. Already at a young age, he liked to hurt people and animals, especially helpless people and animals. He killed my cat just because he was jealous that my father gave it to me.
I backtrack farther, not wanting to be in Dante’s personal space anymore. “Yet he’s alive.”
A muscle ticks in Dante’s jaw. “Death is too easy for him. I want him to suffer, to lose everything he’s ever cared about.” The savage light that brightens his eyes is scary. “I want him to die starving, cold, and alone.” Hatred fills his voice. “Painfully and slowly.”
The truth hits me like a bucket of ice water in the face. That’s why I’m here. I work it out for myself at the same time as Dante says, “I’m going to destroy him, and you’re going to help me.”
It’s the past all over again where I’m the pawn and cruel, selfish men think they have the right to use me.
I lift my chin. “What makes you think I’ll agree?”
His expression is cold and empty, devoid of any feeling. “I’m not asking you, Tatiana.”
I nod, bitterness bubbling over into my chuckle. “Just like old times. I see you haven’t changed.”
“You were young. If I weren’t open about my intentions, it was because I tried to spare you the nastiness of the business.”
