Chapter 190

POV Dante

"Can I come in?"

The two knocks and Torman's voice were enough not to need to check who it was and let him in.

I took a sip of the energy drink, reading and rereading the papers scattered on the table and the digitized photographs. Maps, small notes, and some audio files saved on DVDs also helped with the mess.

My mind was racing. There were so many loose ends about the Factory. I had been investigating it for seven years, and every day more questions arose.

"I thought you were having fun watching something in the living room too," he commented, inspecting the large table.

"I have more to do," I indicated.

"You have a lot to do, Dante, but it seems that living isn’t one of them."

His timely sarcasm was hard to hear. Not because of anything specific, but simply because of his pointless comments that no one would have questioned.

I clicked my tongue.

"Did you get what I asked for?" I asked, straightening my shoulders and sticking my hands in my pockets. I looked at him without any trace of amusement.

"About what exactly?"

"About George Draw."

"I'd like to know why I'm submitting myself to a research that one of your guys could do. Isn't Jaxon the hacker for the Domain?" he asked, his eyebrows raised, deepening the wrinkles on that damn face of his.

"I asked a question, Torman. Don't answer with another. You know I don't like it."

He sighed, as if it were a joke, and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Then, there’s no information for anyone."

"Don't provoke me," I growled.

He sat comfortably, crossing his legs and turning his chin toward me.

"You’re the leader, but I’m the one who made you one. If it weren’t for me, you’d all be dead by now. And I’d have found others, Dante. You’re not irreplaceable. There are many like you who just need a push to become vengeful," he declared, in his passive tone muffled by tobacco. "If you want me to risk my profession without knowing why, you won’t get anything from me. I’ve covered your back for seven years. If that time is wasted, I’m brought down, and you all go down with me."

I rolled my eyes.

Torman talked and talked as if he had something against me. As if I were afraid of any threat coming from his intoxicated breath.

I walked around the table calmly, my hands still comfortably in my pockets. Reaching his position, I made sure he saw me pull the gun from my lower back and hang it between my fingers.

As expected, Torman took another drag of his cigarette and stared at the wall in the back.

"I took care of you," he verbalized.

"I never asked you to."

"I adopted you, even if it was for a greater purpose. I gave you food, clothes, put you in school, and let you have a little childhood."

"Childhood, huh?" I mocked, letting my tone be tinged with forced superiority.

"Would you have the guts to kill me?" he asked, without stuttering. His old, tired eyes examined me with courage. "I’m an important link."

"A link that’s threatening me." The gun pressed against his forehead, almost doing the job of the bullet to pierce his skull. "And I don’t like threats."

Francis didn't break contact, taking one last drag and sighing, as if prepared for anything.

"It’s for her, isn’t it?"

"Give me the information, and we can end this," I demanded, frustrated.

"Would you kill one of your own for her?"

Torman’s attention remained singular.

I didn’t hesitate.

I didn’t dare fail.

I was the leader, but I had an agreement to keep. A word that, though fragile in Gray's eyes, was still valid.

"I’d kill you for her."

The confession made my throat pulse, and the blood boiled in every region of my body.

Francis took a while to react before a laugh rose from his rotten lungs and slapped my hand to get me to take the gun from his forehead.

"I talked to Cole before coming. You're obsessed with the girl. I always thought it wouldn’t be a problem. That you could really turn the situation around, but it seems that she’s the real leader of the Domain from the moment she can control you."

I twisted my mouth.

"She’s mine to die for."

Torman laughed loudly.

"That phrase only sounds romantic coming from your mouth," he teased. "Sit down, Dante. Let’s talk like two civilized beings."

Finally, I took the gun away but kept it in my hand as a warning. "I want everything on George Draw."

"You need to sit down to know why I’m sure it’s interesting to listen to. And call the rest. It’ll be worth it."

***

"Is this a family meeting? I thought it only happened on the first Sunday of the month," Asher entered, amused, holding Rachel on his lap.

I didn’t question him. Honestly, understanding how that guy’s neurons worked was an impossible mission.

"Shut up, Hawthorn. You irritate everyone," Cole growled.

"You love me so much. It almost seems like you’re asking me to suck you off," Asher mocked, receiving a hard shove from Van Doren.

The two were like cursed children. Since they were kids, Cole had been violent, and Asher a complete joker. It didn’t seem like Cole was the only one who didn’t kill, and Asher was the one who would kill anyone with a punch.

"I’d rather die," Van Doren confessed.

"I’ll keep that in mind the day you ask me," Asher winked at Van. "Don’t be jealous, Dante."

I rolled my eyes.

"Cole stopped being useful to me the moment he renounced his position as best friend," I voiced.

He gritted his teeth.

"Does that even exist between us?" Jaxon asked, sitting down. "Man, I feel so lonely. Asher’s an idiot, Cole’s a fucking bastard, Dante’s… Dude, you’re not a good friend." I pretended not to be affected. "Finally, there’s Vance. And he doesn’t want to talk."

"But he feels," Asher teased. "Right, buddy? Who’s your life partner?"

A dark look from Campbell was enough to make Hawthorn stop bothering him.

Emília walked over to him. Her messy hair and dry mouth clearly indicated she had fallen asleep and had just woken up.

I kept thinking about how easily she had let herself sleep next to my guys, without fear of what they might do to her. They wouldn’t touch her while she was sleeping, but still, I didn’t like to even think about that possibility.

I scratched the back of my neck, as if trying to clear my doubts.

I overthought things when it came to her.

I saw her backside sticking to one of the benches next to Jaxon.

I swallowed dryly, the saliva forming a warm ball that slid down my throat.

"Dante invited me to be the host of this very lively family meeting," the cop spoke.

"It’s livelier when we talk with guns and fists," Asher countered. "But I’ve always liked meetings. The chaos that happens is amazing to watch."

"Shut that disgusting mouth of yours for a second," Cole spat.

Asher pressed his lips together but quickly opened them again.

"That second’s already passed. Did you miss me?"

Van Doren was about to explode, but Emília touched his shoulder.

I assumed he would touch her, maybe slap her or push her, but he just dissected her and eased the tension.

Something made my heart race.

"Emília."

My abrupt voice drew everyone’s attention, especially hers, which made her arch her back.

"Me?"

"Come here," I ordered.

Her forehead furrowed. I patted my thigh.

"There’s no chair."

"Look at me like one. Come," I commanded for the second time.

She didn’t hesitate to comply.

Obediently, she stood up, crossing her arms against her small chest.

Everyone watched her walk calmly. Her eyes scanning my body stretched out in the chair, legs apart, hand resting on my thigh was enough to see her throat pulse.

I patted my leg again before pulling her by the stomach and making her bottom settle on my femur.

My arm didn’t detach from her abdomen, pressing tightly as if she might fly away from me.

No explanation. No reason. Nothing to say.

She wouldn’t leave there, not even if they started a war.

"For a chair, you breathe loudly," she whispered.

"And you wiggle too much in it. Can you stay still, or are you trying to feel something you shouldn’t?" I shot back, earning a grunt from her and a small victory.

I turned my attention back to the room, rubbing my fingers against her waist.

"Go ahead, Torman. Start what you have to say," I demanded, making him take another drag from his cigarette.

The smoke spread through the room.

"I tried to find out who George Draw is. It seems like he’s just an ordinary guy. His criminal record is clean, and his resume isn’t special. He’s not someone relevant to The Factory. Works as a barista near a college and is single. No kids, parents died more than a decade ago. He’s always been independent, with no debts," Torman expounded, entertaining himself with his nicotine.

"So, what would make him try to kill Gray?"

The girl reacted on my lap.

Her skin chilled, and it was as if I could see the same fear.

My hand hugged her leg, caressing it lightly.

"Does he work for Christian Norman?"

My question was direct.

"He doesn’t work for him," Jaxon reported. "I did this research. It’s almost like a solitary case."

"Extremely convenient, don’t you think?" I countered.

"We were cautious. We killed anyone who had seen her," Cole justified. "No one would think that an incident in Rome was because of Emília. They’d think it was personal revenge. There’s no reason to attack her and not us."

"So, it was a stroke of luck?" I asked, avoiding looking at Emília.

I couldn’t read her face, but from the slight tremors in her body, I had the faintest idea that good things were not something that resided in her mind at that moment.

"It wasn’t a stroke of luck. They want to mess with us through her. They’re going to mess with you because of her," Asher announced.

My face tightened.

"It doesn’t make sense. Asher, Jaxon, Vance, and Cole were my friends in the story we built after Sic Infit. Why not attack them?"

Francis shrugged, standing up.

"Not everything has an answer."

I watched him slowly, picking up on his body language.

Indifference.

"I agree with Dante that it doesn’t make sense," Asher inhaled before continuing. "They don’t know it’s us. They might suspect, but none of them are sure that the four guys from the kidnapping are The Dominion or... What do they call us again?"

"Faceless Faces," Emília murmured.

"Faceless Faces sounds much cooler," he laughed.

"They don’t even know how many people there are. I’ve heard theories that suppose there are more than ten," Jaxon added.

"So, if they’re messing with Emília, they should be messing with us too. She suffered at Dante’s hands. She’s the last person they’d think is with him."

Asher finished his thought, and I gave Gray one last glance.

She remained silent.

"Unless they want something from her," Cole murmured.

"Do they want something from her dead?" Asher mocked. "They wanted to kill her. The guy tried to shoot her."

"But he failed."

We all lifted our heads toward Gray, who opened her mouth.

She curled up on my lap. My hands gripped her skin to keep from letting her go. Although Emília seemed comfortable there, I feared she might slip from my hands. That she might turn into water and end up leaking through my fingers.

"How did he fail?" Torman was the one to ask.

"He didn’t hit me any of the times."

"Maybe he was an amateur," Jaxon pondered.

"But he tried to strangle you," I argued. "I saw his fingers on your throat. He touched you to kill."

"I don’t know..." she stammered.

I saw her shiver.

Her skin’s hairs were definitely standing up, her lips dry and parted, and her throat burning down into her stomach.

She was still suffering the consequences of having killed someone. She still longed for it to happen again.

I needed to find out who had done this to her.

"If they wanted to do something against Dante, they would’ve already done it. If it were something against us, they would’ve tried. It’s something against her. Exclusively."

In other words, it’s not our war," Cole rumbled.

"It’s not worth wasting my dear neurons on this," Asher blew.

"So, you’re saying that if they kill me, it has nothing to do with you?" Emília raised the question, and each of us felt threatened by her.

I raised an eyebrow.