Chapter 2 - THE PRICE OF KISSING DANTE MORETTI
Chicago moved past the tinted windows like another world.
I sat in the rear seat of Dante Moretti’s SUV with my hands locked together in my lap.
Dante sat opposite me.
He had removed his jacket.
His white shirt was immaculate except for the place where my hand had wrinkled it.
Neither of us spoke for almost two minutes.
Finally, I did.
“What did it cost me?”
Dante looked up.
“What?”
“You said kissing you publicly had consequences.”
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“I said it had consequences for me.”
That wasn't what I expected.
Dante leaned back.
“You walked across a ballroom filled with people who know exactly who I am. Then you kissed me.”
“I was scared.”
“I know.”
“I wasn't trying to use you.”
“I know that too.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“The problem is everyone in that room now believes you're under my protection.”
I stared.
“I'm not?”
“You are tonight.”
“And tomorrow?”
“That depends on you.”
The answer surprised me.
Nolan never asked what I wanted.
He announced what would happen and called it love.
Dante seemed to be doing the opposite.
“You're not taking me to your house?”
“Only if you ask.”
“Then where are we going?”
“A hotel.”
I stiffened.
Dante noticed immediately.
His expression changed.
“You'll have your own suite. Female security officer outside. Nobody enters without your permission, including me.”
My shoulders loosened.
He saw that too.
“Serena.”
I froze.
“How do you know my name?”
“I asked before we left.”
Of course.
Dante Moretti probably knew the name of every person who entered his orbit.
“Your apartment isn't safe tonight.”
“You said Nolan is there.”
“One of my drivers passed the building.”
“Why would Nolan go there after what happened?”
“Control.”
Dante's eyes remained on mine.
“He lost it publicly. Men like Nolan often try to reclaim it privately.”
“You sound like you know him.”
“I know his type.”
Something about the way he said it made me wonder how.
The SUV stopped beneath the underground entrance of a luxury hotel.
Dante didn't move.
“Before you get out, I need you to understand something.”
I waited.
“My name can protect you tonight.”
His expression hardened.
“But it cannot become another cage.”
That sentence followed me upstairs.
---
My hotel suite was enormous.
I hated it immediately.
Too beautiful.
Too quiet.
Too unfamiliar.
A woman named Rosa Bellini stood outside the door.
She was probably forty.
Dark suit.
Calm eyes.
“Mr. Moretti asked me to remain here.”
I looked toward Dante.
“Asked?”
Rosa almost smiled.
“He ordered me. You can order me away.”
Dante gave her an annoyed look.
Apparently Rosa was one of the few people alive who could tease him.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Dante handed me a business card.
“My private number.”
“You're leaving?”
“Yes.”
Again, surprise.
Nolan would have used my vulnerability as permission to stay.
Dante walked toward the elevator.
“Wait.”
He turned.
“What happens tomorrow?”
“We document your injuries.”
My stomach tightened.
“We contact an attorney if you want one. Police if you choose. Someone retrieves your belongings without you entering the apartment.”
“If I don't want police?”
“Then you don't call them tonight.”
“No lecture?”
“No.”
He paused.
“But keep the evidence.”
“Why?”
“Because tomorrow you may want options you don't want tonight.”
Then he left.
---
I barely slept.
At 2:17 a.m., my phone began vibrating.
Nolan.
Seventeen missed calls.
Then messages.
You humiliated me.
We need to talk.
Come home.
Then:
You know I only lose control because you push me.
I stared at the screen.
There it was.
The sentence I had heard in twenty different forms.
You make me angry.
You know how I get.
Why do you provoke me?
Then another message appeared.
Moretti doesn't care about you. You're embarrassing yourself.
And finally:
If you aren't home by morning, don't blame me for what happens.
I took screenshots.
For the first time, I didn't delete them.
---
At seven, Rosa knocked.
“Breakfast.”
I opened the door.
She handed me coffee.
Then she saw my arm.
The bruising had darkened overnight.
“Photograph it.”
I stared.
“Dante said the same thing.”
“Then for once he is right.”
“You don't sound afraid of him.”
Rosa laughed.
“I've known Dante thirty years.”
Thirty?
“How old is he?”
“Forty-nine.”
I blinked.
Nolan was thirty-three.
I was thirty-one.
Dante was eighteen years older than me.
Older.
Yes.
But not old in the way gossip made him sound.
Oldest boss in the room meant something else.
He had survived longer.
That seemed more frightening.
---
At nine, Dante returned.
He didn't enter.
He stood outside the suite.
“May I come in?”
Those four words nearly undid me.
May I come in?
I stepped aside.
He entered.
Rosa left the door partially open.
Dante placed a folder on the table.
“What's that?”
“Information.”
“About Nolan?”
“Yes.”
My heart started pounding.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing illegal.”
I gave him a look.
His mouth almost curved.
“You don't believe me.”
“Should I?”
“Probably not automatically.”
Fair.
I opened the folder.
Nolan Pierce.
Thirty-three.
Financial consultant.
Employment history.
Two previous girlfriends.
Then I saw something that stopped me.
Police incident report.
Four years earlier.
Woman declined charges.
Another report.
Three years earlier.
No prosecution.
My hands went cold.
“Nolan did this before me?”
Dante nodded.
“Apparently.”
I kept reading.
One former girlfriend had requested an emergency protective order.
Later withdrawn.
The other had moved to Arizona.
I whispered:
“He told me all his exes were crazy.”
Dante's expression didn't change.
“Men like Nolan usually require every woman before you to be crazy. Otherwise eventually you notice the common denominator.”
I closed the folder.
“Why are you doing this?”
He looked toward my bruised arm.
“Because last night you asked for help.”
“I kissed you.”
“You said he hits you.”
The distinction mattered to him.
The kiss was not consent to everything that followed.
The request for help was.
I looked down.
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet.”
“Why?”
Dante's phone rang.
He checked it.
Something changed in his face.
“What?”
“Nolan left your apartment.”
“Good.”
“No.”
Dante looked at me.
“He wasn't alone.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who was with him?”
Dante turned the screen toward me.
A security photograph showed Nolan leaving my building.
Beside him stood a man I recognized instantly.
May you like
My older brother.
Evan.
