Toxic Love: A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance
Toxic Love: Chapter 27

“Whatever happened to him?”

It’s a strange thought, given that I’m lying naked in Dante’s bed with my cheek against his chest and his arms around me.

My entire body is still tingling and buzzing, as if my fingertips are touching live wires. My wrists and ankles are sore—actually, a lot of me is sore. But it’s a delicious, toe-curling, pulse-quickening kind of sore.

It’s an ache that makes me feel free of the demons and the darkness of my past.

And yet, this one intrusive thought keeps wriggling its way inside.

“Who?” Dante murmurs.

I look up into his face, debating even saying it.

“Tempest…”

“The man from Venom.”

Dante’s face darkens.

“Is he dead?”

No answer.

“Dante—”

“Yes,” he finally says quietly. His eyes lock with mine. “He’s dead.”

My throat bobs heavily, and I don’t realize my fingers are curling to claws against his chest until his hand lands gently on mine.

“Talk to me, Tempest,” Dante murmurs, tilting my chin up so my eyes meet his.

“I’m…” My lips curl into a surprised smile. “I’m okay.”

The second I say it, I realize exactly how true it is. I’m not merely okay. I’m free—free of that nightmare of a night. Free of the past still clawing at my heels.

What happened still happened.

But now, the monsters are all gone.

Dante’s just slain the last of them for me.

Dante’s brow furrows a little, and I already know the question hovering on his lips.

It still blows my mind that I told him about what happened to me. I’ve never told anyone about that night, aside from my brothers and Taylor. I never imagined I would tell anyone else.

Shame. Fear of being judged. Fear of reliving it by talking about it. But with Dante, it just sort of…fell out.

It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t something I felt I had to do. And, weirdly, telling him didn’t shove me back into that darkness. It opened the blinds and let the light in, banishing the shadows.

Letting him into the worst parts of my past felt like opening my soul for him to wrap his hands around it. Which should terrify me. And yet, it doesn’t. Instead, it’s like a weight’s been lifted from my chest.

Dante’s brow creases. “Was he…”

I whisper it out. “He was the second of the two who killed Nina.”

And Dante already has the other ring, the one with mismatched eyes, from the guy who choked her life away. I allow it to truly sink in: all three of the monsters from that night are dead now.

My lip retreats between my teeth as I glance up at him again, my brows furrowing. “Can I ask you something?”

He nods, pushing a lock of dark hair back from my face.

“Why did you do it?” I say softly.

“What, kill him?”

“Yeah.”

He frowns. “You’re my wife, Tempest,” he murmurs darkly, his eyes flashing.

Heat sizzles in my core.

“Well, yeah, but…” I look away. “C’mon, Dante. It’s…I mean, I’m a temporary prop⁠—”

He pulls me up, clasping my face in his hands, his eyes burning hotly into my own. “Is that what you still think this is?”

Before I can answer, I’m moaning softly as his lips bruise mine.

“Do you really think I’d just kill for anyone, little hurricane?” He growls. “For a prop?”

I smile against his lips, shaking my head before I start to kiss him again. When I pull away, a second question hangs on my lips.

“What is it?” Dante murmurs, clearly seeing through my silence.

“How do you know them?” I run my lip over my teeth. “The men with the lion rings.”

He’s silent for a few seconds that drag on too long as he turns to look away with a sad, faraway expression.

“They took my sister Claudia from me.”

My face falls. “Jesus, Dante⁠—”

“The authorities,” he spits acidly, “said she was just a statistic—wrong place, wrong dress, wrong guy.” He grits his teeth. “But I dug deeper, because that’s what I do. And that’s how I found them.”

“You called them Apex, before?”

He nods. “Yeah. Apex Club. As in ‘apex predators’.”

My stomach twists and knots, sour bile creeping up my throat.

“They’re a bunch of sadistic rich douchebags who were in the same frat together and went to the same business school. And they…” His gaze stabs violently into the wall. “That’s how they get their kicks. They hurt women.”

Part of me wants to throw up. There’s a fucking club of them?

“From what I can tell,” Dante spits, “there were seven of them.” He turns his head and lets his gaze hold mine. “I killed five.”

My heart clenches. Holy shit.

“Well, six, now,” Dante grunts. “But there’s one I’ve never been able to track down. A man named Brett⁠—”

“Sinclair.” I spit the name like a curse. “Brett Sinclair.”

What happened to me never made the news, mostly due to a court gag order Brett’s lawyers rammed through. But my brothers agreed to it, not because they gave a fuck about “sullying” the Sinclair name. But because they were worried about it ripping me apart if the media got wind of the story.

I nod numbly. ““Yeah, he’s dead. He…” My eyes squeeze shut, and I turn away.

“You don’t need to tell me, Tempest,” Dante murmurs.

“No, I want to.” I swallow, tasting bile. “They never knew I was awake. I think they thought I was totally out, like Nina was. So afterward…” I shudder. “Afterward, they just left me on the side of the street in Chelsea.”

Dante lets out a deep, lethal growl and whirls, and I gasp when he grabs the bedside table lamp, yanks it out of the plug, and viciously hurls it at the wall.

Everything goes silent except for the thud of my pulse in my ears.

“I’m sorry, Tempest,” he finally says quietly.

“Don’t be,” I whisper, kissing his chest again. “I still couldn’t really move when they dropped me off. But I was able to scrape my nails down his forearm before they dumped me on the side of the road. So when the paramedics took me to the hospital, they were able to get a DNA sample.”

I can still remember the disbelief on the faces of my brothers and Taylor when the word came back that the man who’d done the to me was Brett Sinclair, of the Sinclair family.

“He posted bail, obviously,” I spit. “But then he was caught trying to leave the country and got thrown in lockup.” I grimace. “He hanged himself in his cell using the string from his hoodie.”

“Good,” Dante grunts through tightly clenched teeth, his rage palpable as his body clenches against me.

“His family covered it up, but…” I shake my head. “There’s your seventh guy you’ve been looking for.”

We’re both silent a minute before I slowly lift my head from his chest, my brows lined with worry.

“What if there are more?” I murmur.

“Then I’ll destroy them,” he murmurs back, his quiet tone belying the look of sheer malice and savagery on his face.

He slides me onto his lap, kissing me slowly before I pull back a little.

“Why?”

His brow furrows. “Why what?”

“Why destroy them? I mean, why risk anything, especially your empire, to go hunting for my shadows and ghosts⁠—”

“Because you’re my wife,” Dante spits viciously. He’s so matter of fact about it that it forces a ripple of heat down my spine.

His hands tighten on my waist, pinning me to his lap as his eyes lock with mine. My lips curl slightly as I chew on them.

“Don’t,” I whisper, shaking my head.

“Don’t?” he grunts.

“Don’t…say anything more,” I croak, my face twisting sadly. “This ends, Dante. Remember that.”

He smiles a wry, bitter smile. “So… No falling in love with you.”

My face heats as my lips curl. “No,” I whisper softly.

“How about crushes?”

I grin, my cheeks turning pink. “Stop it.”

Dante just grins back as he kisses me slowly and deeply. “Until this…ends,” he says quietly, “you’re my wife, Tempest. You’re mine.” His eyes lock boldly with my own. “And I’ll kill for what’s mine.”