Chapter 123
CORINA
I wake up from what feels like a year’s long sleep. Dante’s scent fills my nostrils the minute I open my eyes. I look around for him, but I soon realize I am alone. The blinds are drawn so I can’t tell what time it is. There’s something about waking up in his bed that’s comforting. The familiar surroundings are calming. I could get used to this. Where did that come from? Thoughts like that should be squashed, not entertained. They only lead to trouble. Just because he came for me, rescued me, doesn’t mean his feelings are different now. His soft demeanor from the last time I was awake didn’t count as well. I should banish those images from my mind as well. So what, he was kind? He was probably kind because he felt sorry for me.
My stomach grumbles, taking me out of my thoughts. How long was I out? I get out of the bed and almost collapse to the floor. My legs feel weak and my feet feel like walking on tiny needles. I try to walk again, shaking my legs in the process to let the blood rush down my body. I stumble towards the windows and open up the blinds. Light streams in, blinding me. I squint at the city skyline. Everything looks gorgeous, more so now than before.
My stomach grumbles again. I really need food in my belly. Walking is hard, but I do the best I can. I stumble towards the kitchen where, expecting to see Colin and Vera, I instead come face to face with Nico and Rico. They’re both at the stove arguing about something they’re making when I walk in. “Corina?” Nico says. He looks surprised to see me. “She’s awake!” Rico shouts, without taking his gaze off me. They both stare at me in a way that makes me feel selfconscious. “What a surprise! We were getting worried there for a second,” Nico says. Before I can respond, Gio comes in from the living room followed by Dante, who looks like he has aged years in a few days. That didn’t do anything to diminish his looks. His gaze goes to me immediately, and he stares.
My legs buckle. Even though he’s at the other end of the kitchen, he closes the space between us so fast and catches me before I fall. “You could have called me. There’s no need to stress yourself,” he says as he perches me on a stool and sits on the one next to it.
“I was hungry.”
“Of course.”
“Being out for three days does that to a person.”
“I was out for three days?” I turn towards Dante. He places one hand around my shoulder and softly rubs it. “Saccone gave you some drug, and the doctor said you would sleep it out of your system. I guess he was right.”
“Dante didn’t trust him,” Nico says. “He almost killed the poor fellow when you didn’t wake up after day one.”
Rico laughs. “You should have seen the way he-” Dante glares at both and it renders them quiet. Nico clears his throat. “You said you were hungry. Just so happens I was making breakfast.”
Dante’s voice is soft and makes my heart wobble when he says, “You don’t have to force yourself to eat my brother’s pancakes if you don’t want to. I can order food from the
Hotel kitchen.”
“It’s alright.”
“I’m gonna order some food in case.”
He gets up and calls the kitchen. As he’s barking orders to some poor soul on the other end of the line, I turn my gaze to Gio who has been quiet throughout. “You scared us when you disappeared on us,” he says.
I shrug. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do it again.” Gio sounds like a nun discipling a school girl. I chuckle, drawing the attention of Dante, who narrows his gaze at Gio. Gio rolls his eyes in turn and shakes his head. I have somewhere I need to be. Corina, welcome back.”
Soon after Gio leaves, Nico serves me his pancakes, which, contrary to Dante, taste fucking good. The food Dante orders arrives soon after and fills the entire counter. He pretty much ordered everything from the kitchen. “I don’t think I can eat all of this,” I say to him as the servers place trays and platters of bread cupcakes, eggs, hash browns, sausages, bacon, jam, sauces, stuff I couldn’t recognize, juices, tea and coffee. It’s crazy.
“We’re all joining in,” Rico says, as he grabs a piece of bacon and throws it in his mouth. “But you should eat.”
They all sit down and we all enjoy breakfast together like we’ve been doing this for ages. A part of me wants this forever. Then I remember where I am and who I’m with. This is probably a pity party for what happened to me. I had been abducted from his apartment, after all. They probably felt sorry for me. But if anyone was to walk in on us, they would think we’re one big happy family. It reminds me of the brunches Jesse and I used to have together, except those memories are tainted now. Was she ever my friend, I wonder, or did she truly never care? Speaking of which, “What happened to Jesse?” Nico and Rico, who had been chatting away, become quiet. Dante clears his throat. “I did what you asked. I put her on the blacklist, told her to get out of the city and to never come back again. She’ll be lucky if she can find work in the gambling industry or the hospitality industry or any industry worth its salt, for that matter.” “She’s lucky she got away with her skin intact for what she did to you,” Rico says, his words full of vitriol.
“Thanks for sparing her,” I say to Dante. I hope she was fine wherever she was, and that’s the best I could hope for, for someone who betrayed me. Dante grunts a reply and smiles at me. My stomach wobbles. I really should get over myself. The more I stay in his presence, the more I want to believe that he cares about me. But why would he? He saved me. Out of pity. I must keep that in mind. But he seems changed. Which is the truth, is it care or is it pity?
Rico suddenly rises out of his seat. “We have a few things to take care of.”
“We do?” Nico says in the middle of raising his glass of juice to his lips. Rico nods and makes another gesture I can’t comprehend, but it seems like Nico understands. “Right,” Nico says, getting up from his seat as well and chugging the rest of his juice. “We have the thing that we forgot to do, uh see you later bro, Corina.” And like that, they were out of the penthouse in no time.
“What happened?” I say.
Dante shrugs. I watch him as he lifts his mug to his lips and gets distracted with the way his triceps bugle and extend as he performs the simple act. There’s something about him that’s different now, that’s for sure. It’s as if there’s a new attraction, I’m feeling towards him that wasn’t there before. Everything attractive about him has been heightened, and I don’t know yet why. Then I notice something. “You’re bleeding.” I point at the arm of his white shirt that’s quickly getting colored by blood.
“Fuck.” He drops the mug and lifts his arm. I stop grab his hand and to inspect. “What happened?” I ask as I roll down the sleeve. “Did this happen on the highway?”
“No. Yesterday.”
“Oh.” I keep forgetting that I was out for three days. “What happened yesterday?”
“Taking care of business.” There’s something about the way he says business that makes it sound both scary and exhilarating.
“What do you mean?” I remove the poorly placed, reddening band-aid that’s barely keeping in the wide gash beneath.
“Do you want to know?” His voice is low and raspy. Why does he make danger sound sexy?
“I want to know who would dare to hurt you.”
His mouth widens. “They can no longer hurt me. But most importantly they can no longer hurt you.” I catch a gasp just as it’s about to come out. My gaze wander to his eyes. They’re soft and warm. I don’t want to believe.
“Is that the business you were taking care of? People who wanted to hurt me.”
“And making sure that no one messes with the Morelli Family. Saccone, his goons and his entire family are either gone or under my family now.” He grabs hold of my chin and his gaze imprisons mine. “No one messes with what’s mine and gets away with it.”
I really don’t want to believe. But he’s making it hard. I break the spell and look down at his wound. “Where’s the first aid kit?” He can tell I’m avoiding the issue, but he goes along with me, “Let me grab it for you,” he says instead and I watch him as he gets up from his chair and goes to one of the top drawers in the kitchen and takes it out. He comes back and places it on the counter. He also grabs a ball of water and places it next to the kit. I open the box, take out the requisite items, and take his arm into my hand. I begin by cleaning the wound. It doesn’t look as deep as I initially thought, but it still looks a little nasty. “How did you get the cut exactly?”
“A man came at me with a knife. I responded with a gun.”
“You should be more careful.” I blurt the statement so absent-minded that I don’t realize that I’ve said it out loud until he responds, “I was in the heat of the moment, one could say.” I take a peek at his face. His burning gaze is unsettling. He should stop saying things like that. It makes it all confusing. I drag my concentration back to the wound I’m dressing. After applying a disinfectant, I wrap the wound with a bandage, ensure that it’s firm and hand him back his arm.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.” I put back the items lying on the counter back into the kit and close it, glad to be of some use to him. I should be the one thanking him, after all.
“We should talk,” he says.
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“You and I-”
“We need to end this.”