Chapter 6 - The Kiss That Changed the RulesMaya spent the next twenty-four hours under observation at St. Augustine.
Not because her injuries were severe.
Because Dante refused to accept the opinion of the first doctor.
Or the second.
By the third, Maya threatened to leave.
“You cannot keep ordering specialists.”
Dante stood beside the hospital window.
“I can.”
“You are not a physician.”
“No.”
“You are not my husband.”
The room became silent.
Maya immediately regretted the wording.
Dante slowly turned.
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“I am not.”
Something moved between them.
Maya looked away.
Eli, sitting on the couch, stared at both of them with the expression of someone watching his favorite television show.
“I’m going to get vending-machine chips.”
“You just ate,” Maya said.
“I’m suddenly hungry.”
He left.
Maya glared at the door.
“He is not subtle.”
“No.”
Dante sat beside the bed.
The bruise along Maya’s cheek had darkened overnight.
His eyes moved toward it.
“You should not have been there.”
“We’ve covered this.”
“I should not have allowed it.”
“You didn’t allow me.”
“That distinction becomes less comforting after someone kidnaps you.”
Maya studied him.
“This wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“My organization had a leak.”
“Ricci kidnapped me.”
“Because of me.”
“Because of Ricci.”
Dante looked away.
Maya understood the guilt now.
He believed responsibility followed proximity.
If someone entered his world and became hurt, he considered the injury his.
It explained the penthouse.
The security.
The control.
Maybe even the distance he kept from everyone.
“Dante.”
He looked back.
“You cannot prevent every person you care about from being hurt.”
His expression hardened.
“That is not a useful philosophy.”
“It is reality.”
“I dislike reality.”
“So do most people.”
She smiled faintly.
He did not.
“What?”
Maya tilted her head.
“You look like you’re deciding whether to argue with gravity.”
“If gravity touched you, I’d consider it.”
She laughed.
Then stopped.
Dante had not been joking.
Or not entirely.
His hand lay on the edge of the bed.
Maya placed hers over it.
He looked down.
“I’m not your responsibility.”
“No.”
“I’m not your debt.”
“No.”
“I’m not something you own.”
His eyes met hers.
“Never.”
The certainty in his voice made her heart tighten.
“Then stop punishing yourself.”
Dante’s fingers turned beneath hers until their palms touched.
“That may be difficult.”
“Try.”
He looked at her for a long time.
Then quietly, “For you.”
Maya’s breath caught.
That afternoon, Luca arrived with news.
Adrian Cole had disappeared.
Vittorio Ricci had escaped the warehouse before police arrived.
And one Bellini security officer had been arrested for providing information to Ricci.
There was the second leak.
“Who?” Dante asked.
“Caleb Ross.”
Dante frowned.
Ross had been employed four years.
Maya remembered him.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Always near executive transportation.
“He knew about the device switch?”
Luca nodded.
“He was on the hotel team.”
Dante’s expression turned cold.
Maya watched him.
“What happens to him?”
Luca glanced toward Dante.
Dante understood the question beneath the question.
What kind of man are you really?
Three years beside him had allowed Maya to avoid looking directly at certain truths.
Now she could not.
“He goes to prison,” Dante said.
Maya raised an eyebrow.
“That simple?”
“No.”
His honesty surprised her.
“But there has been enough violence.”
Luca stared at him.
Dante ignored him.
“Give the evidence to federal investigators.”
“That exposes Bellini security operations.”
“Clean the files first.”
Luca nodded.
Maya watched.
Something was changing.
Not because Dante had suddenly become innocent.
He was not.
He would never pretend to be.
But perhaps for the first time, he was considering whether power had to be exercised in the way his father taught him.
Three days later, Maya returned to the penthouse.
Not the office.
Dante had made one point non-negotiable.
“Work from home until Ricci is contained.”
Maya hated it.
Then she discovered Dante hated working from home too.
They occupied opposite ends of the massive library.
Maya handled calls.
Dante reviewed contracts.
Eli attended school remotely from the guest floor.
For several hours, it almost felt normal.
At lunch, Maya looked up from her laptop.
“You’ve been reading the same page for ten minutes.”
Dante did not look up.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m thinking.”
“You’re staring.”
He closed the folder.
“You’re distracting.”
Maya blinked.
“I haven’t spoken in thirty minutes.”
“That has not helped.”
Heat rose into her cheeks.
Dante stood.
Maya’s pulse changed.
He walked toward the windows instead.
Distance.
Again.
Maya closed her laptop.
“Are you going to keep doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Acting like standing within five feet of me violates international law.”
Dante looked over his shoulder.
“You are my secretary.”
“I’m aware.”
“You live in my home temporarily.”
“I’m also aware.”
“You were kidnapped because people believe I care about you.”
“I was definitely aware of that one.”
His jaw tightened.
Maya stood.
“So what exactly are you waiting for?”
Dante stared.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
He turned fully.
“I am waiting until there is no threat, no imbalance, and no possibility that you mistake gratitude for something else.”
Maya crossed the room.
“Do I look confused?”
“No.”
“Do I act confused?”
“No.”
“Then maybe stop deciding what I feel.”
Dante’s eyes darkened.
“Maya.”
“What?”
“You should stop walking toward me.”
She stopped directly in front of him.
“Why?”
“Because I have been trying very hard to behave honorably.”
“And?”
“And you are making it difficult.”
Maya’s heartbeat thundered.
“Maybe I don’t want you to behave.”
His hand moved.
Stopped inches from her waist.
“Be certain.”
Maya looked into the eyes of a man New York newspapers called ruthless, dangerous, untouchable.
She saw restraint.
Fear.
Want.
And something deeper.
“I’m certain.”
Dante kissed her.
Not roughly.
Not possessively.
He kissed her like a man who had spent weeks refusing himself something he wanted too much.
His hand cupped her face carefully, avoiding the fading bruise.
Maya gripped his shirt.
Every argument.
Every almost-touch.
Every interrupted moment.
Collapsed.
When they separated, Dante rested his forehead against hers.
“This complicates everything.”
Maya’s lips curved.
“You run a criminal empire and a multinational corporation. I think you can manage complicated.”
He laughed softly.
Then his expression became serious.
“We establish rules.”
She groaned.
“Of course you have rules.”
“You remain free to leave Bellini Holdings whenever you want.”
“I know.”
“No retaliation. No professional consequences.”
“I know.”
“If this ends—”
“It hasn’t even started.”
“If it ends, your employment is protected.”
Maya looked at him.
“Dante.”
“What?”
“Kiss me again.”
He did.
Later that evening, the world intruded.
Luca arrived with an envelope.
“No return address.”
Inside was a photograph.
Not of Maya.
Not Eli.
A woman in her late fifties leaving a townhouse in Connecticut.
Dante stared at it.
Maya noticed the color leave his face.
“Who is she?”
He did not answer.
Luca did.
“Dante’s mother.”
Maya looked between them.
“I thought your mother died.”
Dante remained silent.
Luca’s voice lowered.
“So did he.”
A note was attached to the photograph.
Salvatore Ricci’s handwriting.
ASK YOUR FATHER WHAT REALLY HAPPENED IN 2004.
Maya looked at Dante.
His face had become harder than stone.
The war had just changed.
May you like
Ricci was no longer attacking Dante’s present.
He had opened the grave of Dante’s past.
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