Indebted to the Mafia King
Sunshine

Eleni

I blink awake to something warm on my face. My stomach grumbles threateningly around its emptiness, and I start to sit up to find the bedpan. Something restrains my left arm. Two somethings.

I turn slowly in the sun-drenched bed, fighting for enough memories to put together where I am. The first something is Dante, slumped in an armchair from the living room of the safehouse upstate but still holding onto my hand. He looks actually, properly relaxed, his brow unlined for once. The sun sparkles off something in our entwined hands, and for a heart-racing moment, I think he found my engagement ring. But no, he's slipped his ring onto my thumb, where it barely fits. Tears fill my eyes as I manage a wobbly smile.

The second something is an IV full of clear liquid. Unlabeled bag. My arm aches-everything does but I feel steadier than I have in ages. Like sleep actually refreshed me. I can even tell someone did something to my mouth because it tastes minty fresh instead of like old vomit. I suck in a breath of clean, free air. I'm safe.

I'm also starving, but that seems like a problem for later.

"Dante," I murmur. Anything louder than that would hurt my unused voice, I can tell.

His eyes shoot open, and panic mars his expression.

"I'm here," I say quickly. "I'm okay."

He scans my face, still worried, then cups my cheek as he relaxes. "El."

"Dante." The tears in my eyes spill.

He kisses me around them, gentle like he could break me at any second and hungry like he can only be certain I'm home when he's checked every inch of my body himself. I press up into him as much as I can, breathing in his scent and the safety that comes with it. Finally, muscles shaking, I slump back against the pillow.

"I love you," I say.

He kisses my knuckles. "I love you too. I missed you."

My laugh rasps out of my throat. "I missed a lot of things, but you were up there."

He grins down at me so wide it must hurt. I want to stay in this moment forever, in the first blush of reunion. But I have to ask.

"How long has it been?"

Dante's face shutters. "About two weeks. I'm so sorry."

I shake my head, tears still flowing. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Camila "

I put my free hand to his lips, silencing him. "Nothing. You look like you haven't slept in two weeks. I bet you did everything you could."

He kisses my fingers. "I slept a little."

I sniffle and pull my hand back. "I think I can forgive that."

He laughs. "What else do you want to know?"

Two weeks. Nearly as long as I lost him for. Did he lose his mind without me? Is anyone thinking about the fact that the semester starts in less than a week, and moving seems impossible? The part of me that ran the Saints wants to ask how the syndicate is, how the city is. The part of me that's tired and sore wins out.

"Camila?" I ask.

Dante shakes his head. "In the wind."

I grimace. I could've grabbed Yagdash's gun and shot her. This could all be over.

"A handful of Russian capos were arrested, though," he says. "Enough that just taking out one or two of them won't be enough to clean up the mess."

I bite my lower lip. "There were feds everywhere. How did you take me without them finding you?" My heart skips a beat. "Or did they?"

Dante's gaze slides away from me for the first time since he's woken up. "They didn't, don't worry. You remember Henry Alcott?"

I nod. I'll never forget the slimy fed who nearly cornered Mama.

"He and his organized-crimes cronies are all over the city, taking down any syndicate that pops their head up for air," he says. "It was child's play to put a tail on one of them and wait until they led us somewhere useful." I swallow. The action burns my acid-scarred throat, and my stomach reminds me it could end this lovely moment whenever it wants.

"Camila said "

"I don't know if you "

Dante and I both stop and laugh.

"You go." I don't want to bring up the potential of a baby until we've covered everything else.

He takes a deep breath. "I don't know if you know, but there was a doctor at the house who was checking you out...in case you were pregnant."

My breath catches. "I was going to ask if you knew. But I don't know if it's real." I curl my free arm around my stomach anyway.

"Nor me yet." He sighs. "But I had my own doctor draw your blood, and...well, did you get your period while you were in there?" I shake my head. Wait, he said two weeks! I begin calculating in my head.

"You're late," Dante says before I finish. "By a significant amount of time."

Something warm washes through my chest. He's been paying attention. He's been counting.

Oh, my god, I might actually be pregnant. At twenty-four. Without a college degree to my name, hiding out in upstate New York. Oh, shit.

"What are we going to do?" I whisper.

"I'm going to make things safe for you." Sunshine highlights every dramatic angle of Dante's face, making him look more like a statue than a living, breathing man I can call mine. "You and our baby." "We can't go home," I say. "The feds are everywhere, right? Have they found any Saints?"

Dante looks at me for a long moment. "No, they haven't."

I exhale. "Thank fuck. I haven't fixed everyone's computers yet."

"The feds aren't looking for the Saints." His gaze bores into me, trying to impress some meaning.

I shake my head in confusion.

"You were gone, El," Dante says slowly. "I needed to follow any lead I had back to you."

"O...kay?" I frown at him.

"I made a deal with Henry Alcott," he admits. "For now, we're safe."

My mouth falls open.