Sick Bastard (29 page)

Dante

Love is something I never sought out. I never ran from it, I just simply turned and walked casually away when presented with the idea of it. I’m wading through unchartered territory here, but now I’m about to drown in this mess I’ve created for us.

I’ve become so accustomed to having London in my life. Wherever she is, I’m never far behind. She belongs to me. Her heart belongs to me
.
She gives me whatever I ask of her and I gladly take it. I’m greedy where she’s concerned. Whether it’s her time, her attention, her love, or her body, she hands it over willingly and I’ve grown used to it. But there is that saying, ‘Too much of a good thing can kill you’. I’m starting to see the logic behind that statement because I have no doubt that London will be my downfall.

“Your tits,” I start to mutter when she turns towards me. She misses nothing.

“What about them?” Well they were bouncing around until she stopped stirring that shit. “You’re not wearing a bra, your shirt is white, and your stirring that shit like you hate it.”

“It’s not shit, it’s waffles, and I made you some.”

“I know, baby, and I’ll happily eat any shit you feed me.”

Watching her eat her beloved waffles, I wish I could say I regret it what I’m doing, but I don’t. I don’t regret a single fucking second with her.

Over these past three-and-a-half months, I’ve grown to need London in a way I’ve never needed anything before. She gives me purpose. She may not need me the way I need her, but she allows me to look after her. She lets me dote on her and coddle her the way I want to. London lets me have my way and somehow manages to keep me in check all with a smile on her perfect face. I feel whole when I’m with her and I’ll fight to keep that other half of me, which is her.

“Now you’re staring.” Over three months and she still complains about it. I feel like we have this conversation often.

“Get used to it,” I tell her like I do everyday. I’ve earned the privilege of staring.

“I am. I just like pointing it out.”

I spend a few extra minutes this morning committing her to memory. Her messy hair, wearing my t-shirt, and that sweet smile is burned into my subconscious. I carve the image of her perfect body onto my brain. I let myself revel in her beauty and her love for a second longer.

She’s everything I never knew I wanted until I had it. “You’re acting strange again. What’s up?”

She asks before she leans into me and smiles, “But I like you strange,” she whispers. Pushing up on her tippy toes, she gives me a long, lingering kiss. I say a prayer that it won’t be the last time I get to taste her. I beg like hell she’ll trust me enough to let me see this through and plead that she doesn’t give up on me. She has to know by now that everything I do I do for her, and only her.

Walking to the front door, I give her one final look standing in my kitchen, happy and content.

“You ready, Boss?” Cam asks as soon as the door closes behind me. Leaning against it, I nod and take a moment to pull my shit together. One year of careful planning and lots of money later, it all boils down to this.

Righting my tie and adjusting my sleeves, I compose myself and bury it all down deep in the black pit of my soul.
This
is what I live for. London may have me, but in my business, there’s no room for a heart. “Yes.”

“Are you sure? You look fuckin’ strung out.”

“Yes. I’ve worked for a whole year to get this together.”

Walking to the elevator, tiny pieces of my morality scream and beg to back out now. Just give up the fight and let it go, but I can’t. I have to follow through. It’s too late to grow a conscience now. My head, my logical, sensible side says this is what my family needs. It’s what we deserve. This is what I’ve worked towards since taking over my father’s position.

On the elevator ride down, I remind myself I’ve spent years getting to this point. I remind myself I don’t function on a normal level and this shit I’m feeling will pass. I remind myself she’ll love me no matter what I do.

I know I’m doing what’s right. I know I’ve made the best decision for myself, my family, and London. Once I’m settled in the car, I know I have to do it.

Love is doing something that you know deep in your gut that you’ll regret. Love is doing everything you promised, swore to God you’d never do. Love is breaking rules, bending ideals, and making changes. Love is taking a big fucking chance on something that’s not one hundred percent.

Twenty-Two

London

“Is Mr. Man Candy treating you like a King?” I ask Matt. We’re sitting next to the window at one of our favorite little pizza places, listening to the loud street noise just on the other side of the sidewalk and enjoy lunch with my first favorite guy. I’ve missed this part of me.

Leaning on the table, his chin’s propped in his hand and he’s got that goofy smile. He’s in love.

“Oh yeah.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows. It’s good to hear. Since “moving” into Dante’s, I haven’t seen Matt as much as I’d like to. We still get together at least twice a week, but going from every day, all day, it’s been an adjustment. He’s been staying at our apartment and I miss being there with him.

“How’s life with Mr. Bossy Boots?”

“Good, but …”

“Oh my God!” Matt squeals and almost gives the lady behind us a heart attack. He cuts me off as usual. “Guess who I ran into? Okay, you’ll never guess so I’ll just tell you. PAUL!”

“Like, crazy ex, poem writing Paul?”

“Oh yes, and we
talked.”

I listen to Matt tell me all the things I’ve missed. We chat about drama and the daily gossip and we promise to spend more time together.

Walking me to the curb, Matt wraps an arm around me. “I miss your face, but I’m kinda glad you’re getting the D regularly. You’re less bitchy that way,” He says, kissing my forehead.

“I’m glad you finally stopped sleeping with every tanned, toned, and juiced man you come into contact with and settled on one. You’re less likely to get herpes that way,” I tell him back, kissing his cheek.

“Love you too, bitch!” Matt says, swatting my ass as I lean into the car.

“Love you too, slut bag. Call me tonight after your date.”

“Yeah, yeah,
mother.”

~~~~~~

The elevator pings my arrival to the fourth floor. Looking at my reflection in the mirrored glass doors before I step out, I see my hair looks a bit messy, but I’ll accept a windblown look so I won’t have to worry.

Stepping off the elevator, I tuck my aviators into the neck of my cute white V-neck. I went for comfy casual this afternoon with my t-shirt and boyfriend jeans. I’m happy about my choice because if I’m going to be sitting for a long time, I’m glad it won’t be in an uncomfortable ass skirt.

Rounding the corner to the reception area, I get a bright smile and friendly wave. “London! How are you?” Jill, the receptionist beams at me from her desk.

“Hey, Jill, I’m good. How about you?”

“Good, good!” We chat for a few minutes about her kids and their extracurricular activities. We chat about the end of my studies and my new man.

“I should go in before I’m late. You know how he hates tardiness.”

“Yeah, he’s an old grump. Bye, Hun!”

I head down the long hall to the door on the end. I’ve walked this walk many times over many years. I’ve run through this hall countless times. I’ve played dolls in this hall. I’ve studied in this hall.

I give a light tap to the very last door at the end. “
Entra
,” A familiar deep voice booms back through the heavy wood door so I push right in. I have my eyes down, kicking my shoes off at the door when I fiddle with my purse, slinging it higher on my shoulder. The rules for the house carry on over to the office. The crazy man insists that shoes be removed.

I never thought today would be the day my heart would die. I never expected it to be trampled on and obliterated into nothing but dust. I never thought I’d see Dante sitting calmly at my grandfather’s desk with the eyes of a complete stranger staring at me.

Everything spirals into a slow torturous crawl. My head spins and my thoughts twirl. “
Il mio bambino, vieni a sederti,”
My grandfather’s loud voice insists I sit, but I can’t. I can’t move. I can hardly breathe.

Why is he here? What’s happening? “London, Sit. Sit.” I swallow hard and nod. I take a seat and look directly at my grandfather, waiting for some explanation. “London, I’ve called you over to inform you of a few things that have changed with the company and I wanted to inform you before you jump right in.” I nod my response and wait.

Looking over at Dante, my grandfather nods. “Dante Marcello, this is my granddaughter, London DeLacourt.” My Grandfather looks over and smiles at me proudly. “London, this is Dante Marcello.” What the fuck is Dante doing? And Marcello?

Dante reaches his hand out to me like it’s the first time we’ve met, like I haven’t spent countless hours with those hands all over my body. I feel sick. “Nice to meet you, Miss DeLacourt.” He says like I’m a stranger. I look at my grandfather for answers, anything, but he only smiles encouragingly at me. Twisting in my seat, I look at Dante.

“Dante,” I implore. “Dante Marcello?”

“Yes, that’s right.” He nods and smiles. I don’t give him my hand. I drop my stare from his. Something in the far depths of my heart knows what’s going on. I knew his secrets would eat me alive, just not like this. His lies run so deep that I’ve been buried alive by the weight of them. I swallow back the painful knot of uncertainty in my throat and wring my sweaty hands.

“W-what did you want to talk about?” I need something, anything to help clear up this mess I’m drowning in. Like a fucking idiot, I ask for the answers I already know.

Hot tears sting the corners of my eyes and a sob tears at my throat. My heart physically aches with a raw burn when both stare at me like
I’m
the crazy one. I’m on pure survival mode while I sit here and watch everything crumble at my feet. I give my full attention back to my grandfather.

“Anyway, as you know, London, with the tanking economy, things have been rough. I brought in Mr. Marcello to help bring our profits back up, which is his specialty. He signed on for fifty-one percent and you’ll hold forty-nine. You’ll work together to bring the company back and by next year, things will go back as planned with you at the head. Once the year is over, Mr. Marcello will move on to other things.”

No! Dante will ruin this company, just like he ruins everything. Grandfather gave it to
this
man―this lying, deceitful, cruel monster? Dante knew. I told him about how important this was to me and he took it. He swooped in and stole it all away. It was his plan from the beginning and I’ve been so blind to see that I’ve been used, again. My father’s shit wasn’t enough, so Dante had to bring it home. That’s all I’ve been to anyone in my life―an easy in. Get the little girl out of the way, use her, whatever angle needed and boom, they have Grandfather’s life’s work in their hands.

Digging into my bag, I tear my cell phone out. I have to get out of here now. “I need to make a call to Matt. He had an issue this morning so if we’re finished, I’d like to get back to him.” I blurt out, clambering up and out of my seat. I throw myself at the door to get away.

“Is everything okay?” My grandfather asks, sounding concerned.

“I’m sure he will be. It’s stupid man trouble. Men are real pricks, ya know?” I say quietly as I rush out the door.

I stumble on weak knees to the elevator. Why would he? How could he?

I know he’s coming. In a blind panic, I run through the lobby and I know he’s coming. I can hear his feet on the brushed concrete floors. My chest heaves as I push through the front doors and onto the sidewalk, but his hand catches my elbow, jerking me to a stop. “London, you have to let me explain.”

“Who are you? Explain this shit to me right now!” He’s played me, used me, and did nothing but lie to me since day one, and he’s never stopped. I look at him, and I mean
really
look at him. “Is your name even Dante?” I feel sick with the idea. This man, a man I thought I loved may not even be who I thought he was. The name I’ve called him for months may not even be real.

He actually looks offended by my question. Crossing his arms defensively he scoffs, “Of course it is.”

“Don’t fucking stand there and act like my question is fucking crazy. Your last name isn’t even Marx. You’ve lied about that. So again,
who are you
?” Who the hell have I been sleeping with night after night.

“You’re right. My last name isn’t Marx, it’s Marcello.” He sighs tiredly. “And I lied about it to protect my business, myself, and you.”

I don’t know him at all. “Why have you been lying to me?” A sick realization grips my heart and tears at it. Tears fall that I just can’t stop because he knew. He’s always known who I am. “You knew who I was from the beginning.” His eyes give me all the conformation I need. Running an agitated hand through his hair, he instantly goes to work on his watch.

Looking down at the sidewalk he swallows hard before he answers, “Yes.” I see no regret for the lies, only regret for being caught. God, I feel so fucking broken. “Why do you want his company? My future?” His eyes close briefly before he opens them and nothing but those mean, ruthless eyes stare back at me. He doesn’t care at all. He never did.

“Why not you? You were a way to get close, but then I fell and I was already in too deep. I’m a man of my word, London, and I had to uphold my end and you just happened to get caught in the middle. Your grandfather is competition to me and mine, London. I, my company, we do exactly what he does. He’s in my goddamn way, holding a contract I need and you were just collateral damage.” He says the last part quietly. I was collateral damage.

“I buy into this company. I get majority share and make changes. I take the contract. I take him out of the equation in the process of building up my empire. It’s all very simple.”

“You’re not even in the same business.” I scream at him. Jesus Christ, all he fucking cares about is himself. He doesn’t care who he hurts as long as he wins in the end.

Throwing his hands out to the side, he snorts a dry, humorless laugh. “Fuck. Do you not see it? Are you that goddamn naïve?” He sneers at me. “I’m the mob. I’m a boss in the goddamn motherfucking mob. You, your grandfather, your fucking father, and me. Organized crime. What the fuck do you think we do?” He yells, smacking at his chest.

Everything starts to spin slowly as the words sink in. I can’t breathe. The mob? Organized crime? I’d always knew my father was into some bad shit, but never my grandfather. Never. “No, not my grandfather.” I tell him with determination. My father, yes, but never him.

“No, he’s not in the mob, but he has worked for us for a long time now. He’s made a lot of money working with the mob, and he’s very involved. He’s in this game like the rest of us. He’s the middle man who knows a lot of shit and has done a lot of shit for us.”

“How the fuck can I ever believe anything you say? Nothing you’ve told me has been the truth.”

“Wake the fuck up, will ya! I may be a liar, but you know I’m telling you the truth about this. Things got tough for a while so we came to him and made a deal. That deal helped provide you with a driver who was about to lose his job, an apartment that you should never have been in. He made a lot of money, living a certain lifestyle, and when the money was running out, he needed us. So because of us, you got to stay in your fancy schools, you had your lavish lifestyle in London. We’re the ones who provided for you through your grandfather. He knew what he was doing. It’s a fucking import and export business, London, dealing in skin, narcotics, money, stolen goods. Fuck, anything that’s worth street value has been run through
your
company. That makes you a part of it now.”

“I have no part of that.” I croak out. My tears fall freely. Standing here on this sidewalk, I start to question everything I ever wanted and everything I’ve ever known. “N-not me,” I whisper around broken sob. It’s happened. I’ve been deceived by everyone, including my grandfather. I’ve lost everything.

“The fuck you don’t. The second you signed on that dotted line, baby, you became a player. You’re now the goddamn boss of this company, right alongside me. You’re now knowingly running a fucking company with ties to a crime family alongside the boss of that family. Not only am I your partner, I’m also going to be your biggest fucking competitor.” I don’t want that. I don’t want to be a part of any of it. Not him, not my father, not my grandfather, not any of them.

“No. You’re part of that.” I can’t look at him. I can’t fucking stomach the sight of this fucking piece of shit.

“Yes, I am.” I thought buying and tearing businesses down caused a lot of hatred toward him. This is my fault. I turned a blind eye and stayed because I loved him. Even knowing what I knew, I still loved him and I stayed, so I can’t blame him for that, that’s all on me. But the mob? My company? I didn’t see any of this happening. I never would’ve imagined he would do this to me.

“You’re just gonna take it all from me, aren’t you?” I say through the tears. I know him well enough to know this is it. I can’t believe that Grandfather knew this was his plan, but he put himself in this situation, which in turn, put me in this shit. He had to have known his decision would fall back on me and I can’t believe he could do this to me. Dante is gonna take this company right out from under me. The mob is going to try and take it from me.

My grandfather built this company from the ground up. He nurtured it from nothing to something, making it hugely successful. It belongs to me, my family, not Dante. I’ve spent my life preparing for this. School, summer internships, years of late nights learning and studying was all leading into this. All I ever wanted was to take over where Grandfather left off and make him proud, but he was so careless and gave it all away.