The Bastard’s Betrayal by Katee Robert

Chapter 9

Dante didn’t like the change that came over Rose’s expression. He’d been making headway, between the orgasm and nearly teasing her into a laugh despite herself. Not to mention her jealousy. He hadn’t expected that, but it delighted him all the same. If she cared enough to be jealous, then she cared. No matter how steep the odds, if there wasn’t a zero percent chance of him winning her over, he could work with it.

But whatever she was thinking about now had the shutters rising in her eyes again. She turned without a word and marched out of the closet. Dante bit back a curse. Ah well. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither would Rose Romanov be conquered in a day.

As tempting as it was to follow her, he had other priorities that needed attending to at the moment. He waited, listening to Rose’s footsteps move through the bedroom and down the hall. Only once he was certain she wouldn’t change her mind and return did he duck into the bathroom and retrieve the gun and clip. Dante returned to the closet and reached past his suit jackets to press the button cleverly hidden in the back of the closet. The panel gave with a quiet snick. He cast one last glance at the door and then ducked through the clothing and into the panic room.

Once he was closed in, he turned and surveyed the space. He wasn’t the overly paranoid type normally, but out here, anything could happen. This wasn’t his home territory, where the people in his world knew him on sight and knew better than to fuck with him. He didn’t have Lorenzo’s people around as potential backup should things go sideways. As a result, he’d taken precautions when he had this place built.

This room was one of them.

It was small and reinforced. Once inside and secured, nothing short of a tank could breach it. Not before reinforcements arrived. There were enough MREs and water stored to last a week or so, but he doubted it would ever come to that. No one knew this place existed except him and Matteo.

The trio of screens showed video from the cameras positioned around the exterior. Just a bunch of various woodland plants and creatures. He took a few minutes to key the motion sensor so if anything larger than a midsize animal approached, he’d get a ping on his watch. There were plenty of deer in the area, so it’d probably be a pain in the ass, but considering the circumstances, the early warning system was necessary.

Before he could devote all his time to seducing Rose back to his side, properly this time, there were tasks that needed to be completed. He considered his options and went with the easiest call first.

“You’re in trouble now, cugino.”

He nearly rolled his eyes at Matteo’s amusement. His cousin was a good leader, but the side he showed Dante was pure chaos. “Your father sent me to New York. What did he think was going to happen?”

“That the Romanov girl would annoy you and you’d snap her neck.”

The thought of a world without Rose Romanov in it sent a burst of repulsion through him. No matter what lengths she went to, how hard she fought, how much she snarled and snapped and fought, only one fact mattered. She was his. If it took a month or ten years, she’d admit it eventually. In the meantime, he would ensure no one else laid a finger on her. “She’s mine.”

Matteo snorted. “Yeah, I thought you might say something like that. My father doesn’t care. She was going to marry the Capparelli heir, so he wants her dead.”

“Then I’ll kill him before you have a chance to.”

All joking bled out of his cousin’s voice. “No. It’s not time.”

“Then you better keep him on a leash.” Dante was content to let his cousin play his deeper game, but only as long as Lorenzo didn’t try to follow through on the threat against Rose. He’d allow no one, not Lorenzo, not Dmitri Romanov, not the gods themselves to take his woman from him.

His cousin sighed. “You couldn’t have waited a few weeks for this? You’ve upset the balance. Kirill is back, and he’s threatening to ignite the conflict between our families again if you don’t return the woman immediately.”

“Lorenzo must be thrilled. He wants nothing more than to go out in a blaze of glory.”

“Not at the expense of our people and territory,” Matteo snapped. “You’ve endangered both.”

He glanced at the monitors. He respected the fuck out of his cousin. Matteo was probably the only person in this life he actually cared about. Well, Matteo and now Rose. He understood his cousin’s desire do right by their people, but Dante didn’t feel the same push. “This will be over shortly.”

“And then what? You can’t honestly think the Romanovs are going to be happy, even if you manage to convince her to see things your way.”

Frankly, he didn’t give a fuck what the Romanovs thought, but he knew better than to say as much. “Once things are settled with Rose, it will become a family affair between me and the New York Romanovs. Kirill will back off.” The man was getting old, and he was tired. Unlike Lorenzo who wanted to escalate things as the years passed, Kirill seemed to want to enjoy his last decade or so in this world with booze, women, and good food. He wouldn’t push things unless someone forced the issue.

“You don’t have much time.”

“Keep your father from escalating things. As long as he doesn’t push Kirill too far, it’ll settle as soon as this is sorted”

Matteo sighed. “Why not ask for the moon while you’re at it?”

“You could always kill him now and be done with it.”

“Not yet.” Ice slid into his cousin’s tone. “Some of the old guard is being resistant to the idea of change.”

“So, kill them, too.”

His cousin snorted. “I’ll think about it. Stay safe.”

“You, too.” He hung up and planted his hands on the counter. If Lorenzo fucked this up for him, Dante would ensure he suffered before Matteo finally put a bullet between his eyes. Kirill getting pissy wasn’t outside the realm of expectation. The Romanovs truly liked the fantasy that they were loyal to each other and just as clannish as the O’Malleys were. It was a lie.

Thirty years ago, Dmitri Romanov nearly got snuffed out by his own people. He’d made too many mistakes with the O’Malleys and had gone soft for the youngest sister. Marrying her initially stayed Mother Russia’s hand, and then there was a conflict in Texas that turned their gaze away from New York for a few years. By the time they circled back, Dmitri and Keira were stable and ruling a healthy territory. Above reproach, even for the likes of Jovan Romanov.

Even with all the research Dante did into the New York Romanov family, he still wasn’t sure if Dmitri realized how close he’d come to being ground to dust beneath the boot of his extended family. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Studying history made the future predictable. Which was how he could recite the next phone call almost without making it. Unfortunately, some things simply had to be done. He dug one of the burner phones out of the drawer full of them and called Dmitri Romanov.

As suspected, the man himself answered. “Romanov.” A faint Russian accent flavored the word.

“I thought we should have a discussion.”

Silence for a beat. Two. “Am I to assume I’m speaking with Dante Verducci?”

“Si.”

“You have some balls to call me after what you’ve done.”

Dante grinned. He respected the fuck out of Dmitri. He ruled his territory with an iron fist but never escalated violence unnecessarily. He was smart enough to know that making a messy example of a single enemy was more effective than all the threats in the world. Most importantly, he treated Rose well.

Or he had up until strong-arming her into the bullshit marriage with Romeo Capparelli.

Dante’s smile died. “As I told your daughter, let’s not throw stones from glass houses. When you move in the world we do, the rules are different. You terrorized the O’Malley family and ultimately blackmailed your now-wife into marrying you. How is that different from what I’ve done?”

Another of those dangerous silences. “The situation was different.”

“It’s not.”

“My daughter was engaged to Romeo Capparelli because of the stunt you pulled. Then you decide to go behind everyone’s back and take her. This is a mess that might be unsalvageable, and the blame lays squarely with you.” His voice went downright frigid. “Let me speak to my daughter.”

“No.”

“If you’ve harmed her—”

“She’s perfectly safe, if furious.” He chose not to mention anything connected to what happened in the shower. It wasn’t the kind of conversation a man had with his future father-in-law. “She’ll call you once we come to an agreement.”

“An agreement.”

“Si.”

Dante could appreciate how he loaded his silences with the threat of violence. This man wasn’t a half-cocked gun like Lorenzo. He might be furious and worried about his daughter, but none of that emotion seeped into his voice. Finally, Dmitri said, “Surely you aren’t insinuating you have intentions regarding Rose.”

“She’s mine.”

“She’s not.” A thread of heat sounded beneath the ice. “She’s the heir to the Romanov family here in New York. She’s not a pawn to be taken at will.”

Dante let some of his fury bleed into his tone. “And yet you were marrying her off to the Capparellis. Just like a pawn.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.” He barely beat back the anger that rose at the thought of her in that white dress, ready to say “I do” to Romeo. “Or is she only allowed to be a pawn when you’re the one making the moves?”

“She was only in that situation because you put her there.”

“And yet you didn’t defend her. The great Dmitri Romanov, bending over to offer up his eldest daughter to appease an Italian over a little insult.” Dante tsked. “Disappointing.”

“What is it that you want, Verducci? I assumed you called with more intention that to gloat.”

Gloat. The thought was laughable. He hadn’t won yet. Dante was sure of his victory, but only a fool ignored the possibility of unknown factors arising to complicate the situation. “I called to state my intentions. I’m going to marry Rose.”

“Nyet.” Dmitri snarled in Russian for several seconds before he dragged in a breath and regained his supposed calm. “My daughter will make herself a widow if you try.”

“We’ll see.” He had no doubt Rose was capable of it. He wore her scars, after all. But if she truly hated him as much as she pretended, she wouldn’t have come all over his hand in the shower. She wouldn’t have stared at his bare chest with heat in her hazel eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking. She felt the same way Dante did. She was just being stubborn about it. “Be sure to tell Romeo he’s destined to be disappointed.”

“I see.” Something strange in Dmitri’s tone, something off. “You’re not long for this world, Verducci. If we’re passing along messages, be sure to tell my daughter that we’re coming for her.”

“By the time you find her, she’ll be my wife.”

“Good thing Rose looks excellent in black.”

“You’re going to be fun as a father-in-law.” Dante hung up.

That went about as well as could be expected. He didn’t expect the man to thank him for throwing a wrench into his plans, but he’d come around. He obviously loved his daughter, and if something—someone—made her happy, he’d get over his personal feelings on the matter. Most likely. Either way, he’d deal with it. Dante methodically dismantled the phone. They hadn’t spoken long enough for a trace, but better to play this with an abundance of caution.

With his tasks out of the way, he checked the monitors one last time and ducked out of the closet. Dante paused to ensure it closed properly behind him and the latch was hidden once again, and then he went in search of Rose.

He’d half expected to find her in the closet waiting for him, ready to demand answers, but the space was empty. So was the bedroom and hallway leading to the main room. He moved silently, curious to what she’d gotten up to in his absence. Perhaps she’d found the food he had stocked in the fridge? It had been too long since she’d eaten, so that would be a logical next step.

He really should have known better.

Dante heard her before he saw her. Angry Russian muttered under her breath. He made a mental note to learn the language properly at some point. Maybe Rose would learn Italian, too. The thought pleased him.

She was crouched by the front door, a screwdriver in her hand and a determined look on her face. Smart girl. She’d realized she couldn’t hack the keypad and decided to take it off instead. It wouldn’t work. It’d been bolted into place when it was installed, so it’d require something heftier than a simple screwdriver to dismantle.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Why not just toss a chair through the window instead?”

“Don’t you think I tried?” She didn’t look up. He liked that she didn’t look up, that she acknowledged him but didn’t let his presence deter her from her goals. This woman really was something.

He glanced at the picture window and, sure enough, there was one of the dining room chairs laying on its side. “I’m surprised you could pick up the chair.”

“And I’m surprised that I didn’t anticipate you using reinforced glass.”

He shrugged. “Si, it’s something of a necessity in our lifestyle.”

She sighed and sat back on her heels. She looked good like this, though Rose seemed to look good in any given situation. Her hair had dried into a faint wave that he liked a lot. It made him want to sink his hands into the dark length and tug.

Not yet.

The shower was a step in the right direction, but he could be a patient hunter. He might have failed that test in the past, but he’d never had prey as vital as Rose Romanov in his sights.

Rose rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. “What’s your play, Dante?”

He’d already told her, but obviously she didn’t believe him any more than her father did. That was fine. He’d prove it with time. “Even if you managed to get out of the cabin, you’d wander lost for days. We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Not strictly the truth, but close enough for his purposes.

“Don’t lie to me. This place is nice, but it’s obviously been stocked recently, and not even you are impractical enough to have the only way in be flying or hiking. There’s a car and a road.” She narrowed her eyes. “No door to a garage, but I bet there’s one tucked around here somewhere. You wouldn’t have left yourself without an escape route.”

She was right. There was a garage a few hundred yards from the cabin. The driveway created a loop on the side of the house opposite the living room with its windows overlooking the view. As much as he wanted space between the house and the vehicles, the thought of trekking that distance on foot when delivering stuff to the cabin was out of the question. He liked that she’d divined that so quickly, but it didn’t mean he’d feed her more information than strictly necessary. “It’s irrelevant.”

“It’s really not.” She pushed slowly to her feet, the screwdriver still held in one hand. “You want to marry me, baby? Let’s go to the chapel.”

Victory surged, but logic shouted it down. Hadn’t he just admired Rose’s resourcefulness? She knew if he took her out of this place, her chances of escaping increased dramatically. Dante was good, but she’d proven she was as well. “All in good time.”

“Bastard.”

“Si.” He gave her one last look and turned for the kitchen. “You should eat something. You’re practically weaving on your feet. It’s irritating.” If she was determined not to take proper care of herself, he’d do it for her.

“God forbid I irritate you.” But she followed him into the kitchen and sat at the island as he pulled a few things out of the fridge. It was late as fuck, so sandwiches would have to do. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him line out the items. “Don’t try to slip anything extra in there to ensure good behavior.”

“You wouldn’t know good behavior if it slapped you in the face.”

“It’s welcome to try,” she snapped.

Dante set out the bread first for several sandwiches and then proceeded to layer mayo, turkey, lettuce, tomato, and mustard on. Her favorite. “I don’t like using drugs. It makes people slow even if it doesn’t knock them out, and as soon as they sober up, you’re starting from scratch. Better to use intimidation or violence.”

“Fear is just as temporary as drugs.”

He raised his brows. “Not if you do it right.”

Rose shook her head slowly. “I suppose you’d know, wouldn’t you? You’re Lorenzo Verducci’s attack dog.”

“Rosa.” He enjoyed the way she glared harder every time he said her name like that. “Are you going to play the innocent? I know how your family works. People don’t follow you because they get warm cushy feelings when they think of you.”

She didn’t look away. “We do what we have to do. Our people are taken care of.”

“Si, and if they step out of line, you or another of your family makes an example of them. That is fear used effectively.” He put one sandwich on a plate and paused. “Rectangles or triangles?” He knew the answer from so many similar conversations in his kitchen, albeit about different topics. He simply wanted to see if she’d admit this, too, was truth.

“What am I, three?” When he just stared, she sighed and looked away. “Triangles, obviously. That hasn’t changed.”

He cut the sandwich in half diagonally and pushed the plate across the island to her. “Unless I’m wrong and the great Romanov family relies on drugs to ensure good behavior.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Rose picked up half the sandwich and took a bite. She chewed for several long moments while she appeared to consider his statement. “Papa prefers a lighter touch. He can do more in a single sentence than most people can do with a tank and battalion of soldiers.”

He knew. Anyone who had even the slightest connection with crime on the East Coast had heard of Dmitri Romanov. He’d spent most of his life ruling a huge chunk of NYC with an iron fist. When people crossed him these days, he didn’t make examples. They just…disappeared. “Big shoes to fill.”

“You could say that.” She frowned down at her plate. “Both my parents are larger than life and…” Rose tensed. “You know what? No. We’re not doing this. I’m eating, and then I’m going to bed on the couch, and maybe if you’re lucky, I won’t find a way to slit your throat in your sleep.”

“No, we won’t be doing that. You’ll be in my bed next to me.” He gave her a slow smile. “And if you attempt to attack me, I’ll take it as an invitation to touch you.”

“Touch me and…”

“Si, I know.” He waved it away. “You’ll come all over my hand again.”

Rose stared. She opened her mouth like she wanted to retort but eventually just picked up her sandwich. He resumed eating as well, and he couldn’t deny the satisfaction that rose in response to feeding this woman.

Oh, they’d shared meals before, and he’d thrown together pathetic little dinners from time to time in that shitty apartment, usually sandwiches like this meal or something equally within Jackson Smith’s budget. It didn’t count. Dante had cut off large swathes of himself during those months in order to cram himself into the framework that was Jackson Smith. To be easy and charming and make her feel safe enough that she never bothered to look into him past a surface background check. He’d let some of the truth filter in because he hadn’t been able to resist, but there was so much he left out. That wasn’t Dante, the real Dante.

She would know him.

Starting now.