CAMILLA’S POV.
The safe-house window framed the gloomy morning sunlight, dancing across the floor as I finished yet another hard day of training with Dante.
He was fast-turning my body into one surprising instrument of agility.
But the most astounding thing to me was just how much fun it actually was to sit around with him.
With each session, I grew more confident in peeling the layers of him; each hour spent together, excited my heart.
“Alright, Camilla,” Dante pulled at his sweaty body, speaking low into the room.
“Time-out. You’re doing great, but there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I straightened, curiosity getting the better of me, wariness too.
Something in his tone had shifted; I could feel the weight behind the words.
“What?” I asked, crossing my arms.
He did, and the silence between us grew thick with unspoken words.
“It’s about me, who I really am.”
My heart did that stupid skipping-a-beat thing, as nerves washed over me in a wave.
“Okay.” I pushed on, sensing this was serious.
Dante’s breath caught, and his dark eyes latched onto mine with some vigor that knotted my stomach.
“I have kept something from you, something important you should know. So you should prepare for whatever happens and whatever you see.”
He did this again; his pause, the muscles of his jaw clenching, like an internal war was being fought.
“I am the head of a mafia, Camilla, I run an American Mafia organization.
Those words just hung in the air while my brain worked overtime to process the litter that literally spewed out of his mouth.
I stared, gawking with some sort of shock running through me.
“You…you’re serious?”
He exclaimed frustration etched on every feature, his one hand running through his dark hair.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way, but I just can’t continue hiding who I am. I’m terrified you’re going to run away from me or be repulsed because that’s what a monster deserves.”
I’d taken a step back, my heart racing in crazy spirals.
It was too unreal.
He’d always been this figure of protection to me; now, an identity that had never crossed my mind was laced with so much deadliness.
“I was wondering why you had so many men when you came to save me and so many guards. I thought you had hired them. But it all made sense now.”
I do what I must to keep those I care for safe.
I did not want this life, but it is the only way that I can protect you both.
I stared back, searching for what was masked behind his eyes.
The mixture of feelings inside me was a maelstrom: the fear and the confusion, this weird, simmering warmth.
“So, you’re saying you’re a part of this violent world, yet here you are, literally putting everything on the line to protect me and Jasper?”
He spoke back in a low, husky voice, closer to me, “There are terrible things I have done, but to protect those I care for against the worst elements of this existence. You must believe me.” The silence between us grew thick as a real tension crossed between us.
I started to process his confession and took a deep breath.
“Dante, I-I don’t hate you. Your actions speak louder than your title.”
He blinked in surprise at my reaction-wide-eyed.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Well, I am. But so far you have treated me only with kindness,” I said, heart palpitating.
“You’ve kept us safe, and I cannot look past that. Besides, you could have left us to ourselves,” I said.
“You could have walked away. But you didn’t.”
Dante’s eyes latched onto mine, strained tight with apprehension, into something deeper.
A flicker of hope in his irises seemed to dance: “I never planned to walk away from you, from my son and my responsibility. You’ve become… important to me.”
I swallowed hard and felt the weight of those words settle around us.
I wasn’t going to let Dante die like he did in my first life.
Even though he didn’t know it I wanted to protect the father of my child.
“I want to know about you. I want to understand what this means for us.”
He nodded, the tension in his face breaking bit by bit.
“I promise from now on I will shoot straight with you. The only thing is, I’m here to protect you, no matter what.”
And then, as if a minute had finally taken its course, the air changed.
The angry, sharp heat of our connection, the pull toward him intoxicating and terrifying could no longer be denied.
“So… what’s the plan now? You teach me to fight and I become your mafia princess?” I tossed out, joking, so my words masked it.
He smiled a little, his head shaking after the fact.
“I wouldn’t call you a princess, though. You are more of a warrior.”
I grinned, crossing my arms over my chest playfully.
“Warrior, huh? I can dig that title. But I prefer a Mafia princess to a warrior.” I Pouted. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“Alright, Mafia princess.” His little smile was soon replaced with seriousness again.
“Seriously, Dante, lighten up some. You are far too brooding.”
“Brooding is part of the job description,” he said finally, a ghost of a smile breaking through the serious mask of his face.
“Terrific,” I said, circling him with a mock.
“I’ll have to tell jokes till I make you laugh. Maybe I’ll even start a ‘Dante’s Laugh Club’ and get T-shirts made up.”
His laughter rumbled through the room, a beautiful sound I could get used to hearing.
“Provided I wasn’t the only member, I may consider such a thing.”
There was a completely new level of trust between us, embraced all over by this feeling that no matter how complicated things could get, we were in it together.
With every punch and block, I could feel strength grow inside me.
Pride began to flower in Dante’s eyes, and I wanted more of that.
“Alright, Camilla,” he said, his form backing away.
“Let’s see what you’ve got today.”
I swallowed hard, my heart still racing from the session just finished, and prepared once more to spar.
“I’m ready for you.”
It felt as though our bodies had caught an easy rhythm with the chemistry crackling between us, and I punched and Dante danced away, eyes glinting at me, as I followed through with a roundhouse kick.
He caught my leg, laughing, righting me.
“Not bad, but you need to be faster.”
“Oh please,” I said, the words taking on an edge from the competitive streak that rose in my voice.
“You think you can keep up?”
His eyes flashed with challenge.
“Try me.”
We exchanged blows, the earlier tension between us diffusing into comfort and easy camaraderie through our laughter and teasing.
I was grateful for this chance to train with him, knowledgeable of the fact that it is safer this way, yet this is certainly one surefire way to build something a little deeper between us.
But in that precise moment, just then, when I thought nothing could break through, Dante’s cell phone buzzed on the table in the room, stopped, and sliced up the play fighting.
He reached forward and grabbed it off, glanced down at it.
I could see his eyes darkened.