“War, Miss. We’re preparing for war.”
What?
“What do you mean? What’s going on, Adeline?” We stop just short of entering the yard, and we can already hear the rattle of heavy equipment and grunts from the men in training.
Facing Adeline, I stare her down until she starts squirming where she stands. “It would be better if you hear the rest from the boss, Miss.” She won’t meet my eyes, and I start to feel guilty when she starts fidgeting.
Sometimes, I wonder if Adeline is cut out for this job, but I don’t really know her background yet. I make a mental note
To be dismissed like that, made to feel useless and weak like how Serafino made me feel, I never thought I’d feel it from Dante. And I sure as hell don’t want to be put in this position again. I want to help, in any way that I can. I want to be able to do something for the people who had helped me. Adeline, Hana, Killian, Luca, Daveed, and even Dante. These people have been so kind to me, and I want to be able to protect them too. I try to swallow down the hurt and frustration, unshed tears burning my eyes. I only get as far as the yard’s entrance before the burning feeling returns. I can hear them. Every man in that training center, preparing themselves
“Stay here,” Dante says and I don’t argue. Besides his tone leaving no room for argument, I feel terrible. He had to practically carry me to the infirmary to get checked out. There’s no way I’m going anywhere for a while. And just like that, he disappears back into the woods. “Drink this,” a doctor says, her voice sweet and soothing. She’s pretty, but I don’t know her name yet. “What is it?” I ask, eyeing the brownish liquid in the cup. The doctor smiles sweetly before answering. “It’s just tea; to help you calm down. I checked you all over and apart from this big scratch on your right arm nothing else seems to be amiss.” Nodding n
The next morning, I awaken cold and alone. It’s still early, the sun hasn’t fully risen yet, and I’ve managed to kick the blankets off my body. “He’s gone,” I note as I run the sleep out of my eyes. Getting up from bed, I decided there was no use trying to fall back asleep now, so I start my day earlier than usual. After a hot shower, I dress in comfortable gym clothes. If I want to get stronger, I have to make a habit of training hard every single day. “Wait, I should…” I make my way to my office, finding it in the same condition as it has been since Ade
As if reading my mind, Adeline sets up the next targets where one pops up one after another in different positions across the whole range. A good level up from our earlier session, but a welcome one, because at the end of the day, I’d be against moving targets. I cock my gun, arm steady, waiting for the first target to pop up. I feel myself drop in the zone, focus laser-sharp, finger itching around the trigger. Bang! Bang! Bang! One after the other, the targets go down with bullet holes square in the chest, not missing a single one. As the last target fal
Dante has been like this since the night I ran into the woods. He’s been distant, focused on work, maybe even too focused. And it’s been weeks and I’m not too proud to admit that I worry about him. He hasn’t been sleeping and I doubt he’s getting any rest with all the preparations he’s been doing, plus keeping up the strong appearance in the mafia community. The moment they see a crack in his armor, they will chip away at it until Dante cracks and breaks. I sincerely pray that it doesn’t come to that. And then there’s that stupid email I sent to Gavin. With nothing else to occupy my time apart from going to the gym and training with Adeline, my mind keep
“Peter Atwood. Does that name ring a bell?” “Who?” He even has the audacity to play dumb. Fighting to keep the hatred and annoyance from showing, I school my face to remain neutral. Not one tick in my jaw, not one quirk of an eyebrow, I must remain calm. I can’t give my position away or he’ll never tell when what his relationship with my father was. “Drop the dumb act, I know you know him.” My voice drips with so much hatred I barely recognize myself. Despite my little personal pep talk. I apparently am not able to hold back my rage when faced with the potential perpetrator leading my parents’ demise.
Dante “Let go of me, Dante.” Seething, I grip her wrist tighter. She shouldn’t even be here. She shouldn’t even be within breathing distance of that scum, Guerrero. “Where are we even going?” Where are we going? Even I have no clue. The only thought occupying my mind is that I have to get her away from there. Away from that prison. Away from the stench of blood and violence.
Dante “Fuck, baby.” Jean hasn’t even taken me in her mouth and yet I’m damn near coming already. Just by the way she’s caressing my dick. Damn, did I just say caressing? Jean’s tongue has got me writing poetry and she’s barely even touched me. Jean giggles, and oh what a sight she is, on her knees for me, my thick throbbing cock covering half her face as she rubs against it. “Baby?” she asks and for a brief second, I thought she’d call this off. But Jean licks a wet stripe along the base of my dick up to the tip, flicking her tongue and collecting the precum leaking t