Instead, I’m left alone.
It’s for the best; her and Zeke under my father’s roof isn’t the best idea.
And yet, Massimo’s words reverberate through my mind.
He threatened my family.
I stalk past Dante’s office and pause.
He either left the light on or he’s still awake at this awful hour.
I don’t bother to knock. If it’s another one of his men in his office, I’ll see what trouble they’re up to.
I storm inside, and Dante glances up with a heavy gaze from his laptop.
His eyes tighten, and he gestures to the seat across from his desk. “You’re awake.”
I shut the door behind myself and find my way to the leather chair. It’s cool against my skin. I feel a bit underdressed. My father, always in a suit. Me, in my boxers and a t-shirt. Mostly the t-shirt is so I don’t have to stare at the unsightly bruises forming on my chest when I look in the mirror. While it may not be often, it’s often enough.
“Who is Massimo DeLuca?” I ask.
Dante emits a heavy sigh, pushes his chair backward and stands. He approaches his liquor tray against the far wall. Pouring himself a scotch, he grabs a few cubes from the ice bucket beside the liquor.
“I’m sure you recognize the DeLuca surname.” Dante swirls the liquor and breathes it in before sampling it.
“It’s Mom’s maiden name.”
Dante nods, his face a scowl as he’s wrapped up in his head for a moment. “Massimo is a name I haven’t heard in quite a long time.”
I open my mouth to ask again who the hell Massimo is when Dante finally answers, “He’s your uncle. Your mother had an older brother whom she is estranged from.”
Mom is estranged from her entire family, but no one had ever mentioned that she had a sibling. “She never speaks about him.”
“He’s as ruthless and cunning as Gino was, and I’m guessing he’s taken over the family business.”
I snort in disgust. Standing, I help myself to my father’s scotch.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?”
“Comes with the cost of you and I doing business together. Any more family secrets?” I pour myself a glass and breathe in the aroma. My nostrils already burn, and I haven’t yet tasted it.
I take a gulp and wince.
It’s like turpentine.
“You sip scotch, not throw it back like a shot,” he scolds.
“My mistake.” I pour another glass because, fuck it if Dante is going to tell me how to drink liquor.
He raises an eyebrow at me but doesn’t comment on my underage drinking again. Good, because there’s not a lot he can say that will save him tonight.
“Do you want to tell me what exactly went down this evening?” Dante swirls the amber liquid and glances at me, his gaze filled with something I don’t quite recognize.
Concern.
“I got yanked out of my car, dragged inside, beaten, and learned I have an uncle. Does that about sum it all up for you?” My tone is harsh and bitter, and I swallow back another gulp of the ridiculously expensive scotch. Knowing my father, he dropped a solid five figures on the bottle.
Dante nods slowly. “The only part I’m not quite comprehending is how Ashton managed not to get taken when you did.”