Stolen: Dante's Vow - Page 92

Gray studies me, then Dante. Dante is watching him with a curiosity that has me wondering what he knows that I don’t.

Felix clears his throat and Gray turns to him. “You want to get paid you little piece of shit?” he asks, stepping toward him.

I follow Felix’s nervous gaze and I think we realize at the same time that all of his soldiers are gone.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Gray stops a few steps in front of him and looks him over with contempt.

“Money back?” he asks.

Felix looks confused but I see one of Gray’s men punching something into a phone. “Yes, sir,” that man answers.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Felix asks, shifting his gaze to his phone, typing frantically and muttering curses as he does. He then looks up at Gray. “You mother fucker.”

Gray barely acknowledges him, and it feels like the longer I study him, the more disgusted he grows, the more contemptuous toward Felix.

“Did he touch you?” he asks, never taking his eyes off Felix.

I know he’s talking to me, but I can’t answer. I’m too shocked at this strange turn of events.

“Mara?” he asks, shifting his gaze to me.

I shake my head.

“Then I won’t cut off his dick and feed it to him before I kill him.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Felix asks, taking a step back only to be stopped by one of Gray’s men holding the gun to the back of his head.

“Don’t shoot him!” I cry out, trying to get out from behind Dante.

Gray turns to me again and Dante shifts his body a little, his gaze still on Gray. I swear I see the infinitesimal nodding of Gray’s head. At that strange exchange, Dante shifts his grip to hold my arm with one hand and the wrist of the hand that’s gripping the dagger with the other.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to make it that easy,” Gray says as if understanding my meaning. He then looks at Dante. “No one will touch her,” he tells him.

“You’re not taking her. I don’t care who you are,” Dante says.

I want to ask who he is because I get the feeling Dante knows.

“Well, I’m not leaving without her, so you and I may have a problem. But we’ll discuss that after we take care of this piece of shit.” He’s eyeing Felix again, his mouth curled with disgust.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Dante glances at me, then at Gray. Gray’s eyes lock on me, the look not like any man’s I’ve ever seen. Not hard. Not hateful. And not lecherous.

“Tell me,” I say.

Dante turns fully, giving his back to Gray, which surprises me. He shifts his grip, so his hands are gentle on my arms. I shudder as he rubs them. I look up at him, at the bloody spot on his temple, at his scarred face. And all I want to do is press myself into his body, feel his arms around me. Feel him hold me.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, shifting his grip from my wrist to my hand so we’re both gripping the dagger. “Are you ready?”

I’m not sure what he means but then, a moment later, I see Felix move behind him. See him reach for a hidden weapon, the glint of metal catching the light of one of the flashlights. But Dante must sense it, so he spins me, one arm wrapping around my middle to hold me tight to his body, still keeping me shielded from Felix. His other hand tight over mine, the one holding the dagger, we lunge together toward Felix. We collide with him as a gun fires and Felix goes crashing to the ground, us on top of him. Dante’s grip shifts to cradle my head as we plunge the dagger into Felix’s chest, with our joined hands.

In that moment, something leaves me. Just as a dying man’s soul leaves his body, something leaves me. And for the first time in fifteen years, I can breathe.

I look at Dante who’s looking down at Felix. He shifts his gaze to me, and we both sit up. I see where Felix’s gun is a few feet from him, his hand is bleeding. That was the gunshot. Someone shot the gun out of his hand.

Dante and I don’t speak. We just look at each other and it takes me a long minute to drag my gaze away, over to Felix whose eyes are open wide, who is gasping for breath.

“He’s yours if you want him,” Dante says so low that only I can hear him.

I realize what he did, setting up the kill for me. I nod. Because yes, I want him.

Dante stands and I straddle Felix, my knees bare on the cold, dirty ground as the skirt of my dress settles around me. I close both hands over the bloody handle of the blade and I hold it there, looking at him. I wait until his eyes grow huge with terror. I don’t feel a moment of regret at what I’m about to do. I think I know what that says about me. I’m a monster. A monster he had a hand in creating.

Tags: Natasha Knight Romance
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