Dante didn’t like it. No, that was too mild. He fucking loathed it.
She turned slowly to face him, and he raised his gun. “Move slowly, Rose. Don’t try to go for that gun in the drawer.”
“Seems you’re familiar with the place.” She lifted her hands slowly, which only served to show off the dress even more. Christ, she was flawless. A perfect body, a gorgeous face, and ice water running in her veins. If the circumstances were any different, he’d enjoy this moment immensely.
But Rose wasn’t dressed to perfection to walk down the aisle to him.
The thought of Romeo fucking Capparelli peeling this dress off her body had Dante seeing red. “What the fuck were you thinking choosing this one?” He motioned at the offending garment. “Do you want every man in that place to picture fucking you?”
Her brows winged up. “Half of the men in that place are related to me. But as for the rest?” She shrugged as much as she could with her arms raised. “Why stop with the men?” Her voice was perfectly even and in control, as if she faced down her exes holding guns on her every day. “I don’t know what you’re aiming to accomplish, but it won’t work. If you kill me, you’ll have the entire Romanov family, both stateside and in Mother Russia, gunning for you. Not to mention the Capparellis might decide to stop pussyfooting around and finally stamp out your clan for good.”
He made an impatient motion with the gun, and she flinched. “Turn around, Rosa. Put your hands at the small of your back.”
She considered him for a long moment. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Don’t you d—” He lunged forward as she dove for the gun hidden in the vanity drawer. She was quick, but he was quicker. Dante caught her around the waist and yanked her back against his chest. She started struggling but immediately went still when he pressed his gun to her temple.
Fuck, she smelled good.
He shook his head sharply. Not yet. Patience.
“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
Even now, even shaking in a way she couldn’t hide, she still managed to sound dry and unimpressed. Dante clasped her throat in a rough grip and turned them to face the mirror. She was breathing a little too fast, but she didn’t look away. He raked his gaze over the gown one last time. “I’m going to enjoy cutting this off you.”
“Do it, and you won’t live to see the dawn.”
“You had your chance to end this. It’s my turn now.”
She tensed even more. “It’s bad luck to kill a bride right before her wedding.”
Dante laughed. “I’m not going to kill you, Rosa. I’m going to claim what’s mine.”
Chapter 4
Rose needed to do something. Scream. Fight. Make enough of a ruckus that someone would come looking. Dante must have killed the muscle Mama had guarding the bridal suite. She couldn’t think about that right now, not with the man himself pressed against her back, holding a gun to her head, and bracketing her throat. Had his hands always been so large?
He didn’t look like Jackson Smith any longer. In the last three months, he’d gotten a haircut and shaved his beard. The man studying her in the mirror was every inch what she’d expect of Dante Verducci. Too handsome. Lean and dangerous. His golden hair styled back from his face.
But she didn’t scream. She didn’t fight. She blinked, her mind tumbling over itself as she tried to process his unexpected words. “I’m not yours.”
“Yeah, you really are.”
“No. I’m not. Everything we had was a lie.”
He met her gaze in the mirror, dark eyes giving away nothing. “Are you sure?”
Was she sure? What kind of question was that? As if she hadn’t tormented herself for three long months, trying to divide out what was real and what wasn’t. She couldn’t, and because she couldn’t, the only path forward was to believe everything had been a lie. “Yes, I’m sure.” She had to be.
“Don’t move.” He cast a quick glance around the room and seemed to come to some conclusion. Dante released her and stepped back.
She didn’t hesitate. Rose moved on instinct, aiming for the gun he’d correctly guessed was within the drawer of the vanity. He cursed and grabbed her hair, yanking her back. Pain shot through her scalp, but she’d lived with pain before. Rose kept fighting. Dante cursed again, and then she was airborne.
She landed on his shoulder hard enough to drive her breath from her lungs. That moment of disorientation was all he needed. He stalked to the door of the bridal suite and shoved it open.
“No,” Rose moaned. God, her stomach hurt. This was fucking ridiculous. She’d hesitated, and she been taught better than that. Papa was going to kick her ass. Fuck, Mama was going to kick her ass.
A dark car idled on the gravel driveway just a few feet away. Dante didn’t hesitate. He strode to the trunk as it popped open and dropped her into it. Rose tried to sit up, but he shoved her down, leaning over to get in her face. “It would be a real shame if you screamed and got one of your family members killed.”
She glared even as fear trilled through her. “My family can take you.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t seem too concerned. He was too close; it felt like he’d blocked out the entire sky with his gorgeous, deadly face. “But I’m a hell of a shot. There will be losses. Are you willing to risk it?” Dante smiled, the expression ice cold. “Might even be one of your sisters. Sasha and Lorelei are smart enough to stay back, stay safe. But Anya?”
He was right. Anya would charge into any fight without hesitation, especially if she thought Rose was in trouble. Rose narrowed her eyes. “If you kill one of my sisters, my father will cut off your head and send it to your family. That’s not even getting into what my mother will do before you die.”
“And yet your precious sister will still be dead.” He pressed a hand to her chest, the contact searing through her with a jolt. “Choose, Rosa. Come quietly or risk the consequences.”
“My name isn’t Rosa.” She said it mostly to buy time. Surely someone would notice the car where it wasn’t supposed to be? Except if they noticed it, Dante’s threat would become reality. She had to decide now. Was she willing to live with the consequences?
If he wanted her dead, he would have shot her in the bridal suite and left her for her family or Romeo to find. Whatever his goals, her murder wasn’t part of them. That had to be good enough.
As long as he didn’t intend to kill her, she could wait for an opportunity and finish what she started three months ago. Romeo would be pissed about the postponed wedding, but if she took a page out of her father’s book and sent him Dante’s head? She had a feeling he’d get over it.
Maybe it was the wrong call. She didn’t know. She couldn’t think with Dante touching her, with the threat of her family being harmed held over her head. This was what she’d been trained for, to be able to make quick-fire decisions under duress, but the only thing she could focus on was that some consequences were too high a price.
She’d deal with Romeo and smoothing over the situation once she got free. That could be rectified. If someone she loved died, they’d stay dead.