Chapter 144

POV Dante

“Try to get as much information as possible before he dies. But don’t kill him. Maybe it’s still time for me to be his end.”

Vance accepted, as he always did.

I headed for the exit hidden in one of the walls. I climbed the stairs two at a time until I reached my house.

Gray’s decibels kept increasing, her anger seeping through the walls and piercing my ears. Damn, she had no idea how her voice irritated me in an indescribable way.

I found one of Francis Torman's henchmen pulling Emília by the arm, handcuffed, while she kicked and tried to bite the guy. Leaning against the wall, Torman lit a pipe and took advantage of the delirious situation.

“What the hell is going on?” I approached, catching the attention of all three. Emília wrinkled her nose, a grimace I liked to see when she was upset. “Let her go.”

“Your best friend came looking for me,” Torman began explaining, still smoking. “Looks like she was quite determined to make some damage.”

I assessed her.

I knew Gray might do something stupid, but the threat of death to the people she loved or to herself didn’t seem to have been enough. Was she really risking it just to see me behind bars?

Her innocence and naivety made me laugh. Stupid girl.

“You’re all going to pay for everything, you bastards!” she yelled, trying to break free from the cop holding her. She managed to hit him in the mouth with her elbow, which only made the idiot angrier, enough to kick her to the ground.

My throat burned instantly.

“I told you to let her go.”

He didn’t listen, pressing his foot against her ribs, moving it up to her neck.

My vision blurred, and my instincts acted faster than I could think. My fist landed on his chin, spinning his head and throwing his body against my statues. The sound of them breaking over the bastard echoed down the hallway, just like my rage skyrocketing to the top of my sanity.

“Touch her again, and you’ll wish you were licking your own shit rather than dying by my hands.”

“He’s passed out. Better threaten him after he wakes up,” Torman said, a grin spreading across his face.

I ignored the broken pieces, knowing I’d have to pay another fortune to buy the same sculptures, and grabbed the key from the guy’s pocket, unlocking Emília’s cuffs.

She stood up as quickly as she stepped away from me.

Her eyes didn’t fool me. She was looking at me like I was an abomination. Something she would never touch, be near, let alone love.

“You can go, Torman. I’ll take care of this,” I declared.

“This?” Emília asked, furious. “I’m not an object, Dante. I’m not just some fucking target for you.”

I clenched my jaw.

“Shut that mouth, Gray.”

“I’d love to watch a little more of this discussion, but she’s a problem, Faulkner. We have goals to achieve. Someone who knows the identity of the Dominion is not welcome in this world,” he stated. “I see no reason for her to know more than I do.”

I scratched the back of my neck.

It was a rule as clear as water. Anyone who knew our identity had to die.

The moment I let Emília go, the guys wanted to punch me out. Their anonymity was, above all, valuable. It was gold. There were people who would sell their souls to the devil just to know who my allies were, how many there were, and the many other mysteries we cultivated.

I made sure Emília would stay quiet, knowing she already understood how I operated. She knew that any misstep I didn’t like could lead to the death of those she loved.

However, Gray hadn’t stopped being a stubborn, stupid brat.

“Asher fucked up. That’s it. Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Torman wasn’t convinced.

“Fix?!” His teeth ground together. “Now I have to go talk to those idiot bastards at my precinct and tell them this girl was just a liar who wanted money and fame so they can pretend nothing happened.”

“They’ll forget.”

“And she forgets? If you want to keep her alive, at least cut her tongue off so she can’t speak.”

“Do that, and I’ll rip your balls off, you son of a bitch!” she growled angrily.

I rolled my eyes, and Torman laughed, choking on his nicotine.

“She’s useless. She won’t help at all. Just another victim. You don’t save people, remember? We have a goal, and she just gets in the way.”

Especially now, knowing who you are.

I stared at Emília, still glaring at me.

Trouble.

She would bring me trouble.

“I was interrogating her. I need to keep going. She stays until I decide how to get rid of her,” I assured, inhaling the air as if it were a drug I needed to calm my system.

“If I find out this girl keeps bothering us, I’ll take care of the job that should’ve been done four years ago. Think with the right head, damn it. Your emotions don’t matter now.”

His speech ended with a drag, and he left the house.

My head throbbed with all the issues I needed to resolve.

He was right.

Keeping her alive was a waste. Asher had missed the mark, thinking Emília could be a quick and reliable source to get us where we wanted. However, after two minutes of research, Jaxon found out that Emília had been living a miserable life, surviving on a scholarship for young prodigies with no fixed income, and, adding to the details, she had her nails bitten down from anxiety diagnosed for two years.

Gray was a pit of neediness. And volunteering wasn’t my thing. I liked helping the poor when they didn’t have mouths as sharp as hers.

When I turned my attention back to her, I saw her eyes burning and the beginning of tears welling up at the edges.

“Was I supposed to be dead too?”

Damn Torman.

I brushed my hand across my face before reducing the distance between us, even though she always took two steps back.

“Come with me.”

“To do the job that should’ve been done four years ago?”

“To get your ass in a comfortable seat.”

“Next to you?”

“You prefer being hunted out there?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.

That seemed to ignite something violent in her.

“I’d rather die than breathe the same air as you,” she shot back. “There’s nothing worse than seeing you, Dante. It’s unbearable. You have no idea.”

A series of emotions pricked at my skin.

“I do, Gray.”

She shook her head, her tears staining her face. Her expression was a mix of feelings I wanted to soothe. I always knew this would be the damage I left on her soul after that day, but the thread of hope hadn’t been cut. I hoped she could heal.

“My memories of you destroy me. You broke my heart.”

“Good.” I couldn’t contain the cruelty that filled my chest. “I don’t want you offering it to anyone else.”

Her distress was obvious. I could see her chest rising and falling avidly, as if her bones could expand and return, crushing her lungs.

Emília wasn’t the only one resenting something. She had no idea what was locked up tight inside me. What my soul was condemned to see, smell, feel, and learn to bear until it was buried.

The controversies that made my heart muscle pound were merciless. Especially because they involved her. Because love was a suicidal act. And she was the only damn trigger I couldn’t pull.

“You deserve hell,” she gritted between her teeth, clenching her fists.

“And much more. But I still need you to sit down and listen to me. It’s not for my sake, but for your safety.”

“I don’t have that map,” she retorted slowly. “You’ve got the wrong person, damn it.”

Rage boiled over. I didn’t know why the hell Asher had locked Emília up, thinking she had the damn map. Damn, I was trying to avoid starting a war with my own friend, but he had put everything at risk.