Page 43 of Pretty Poison

“It’s easier said than done,” Maze mumbles under his breath. “You’re forgetting how much of a slippery fucker he is, Dario. It’s like he takes pleasure in knowing we’re looking for him. He’ll leave us breadcrumbs and dead bodies with his mark on them, but it’s always a dead-end search. He’s like a ghost.”

“Even ghosts have weaknesses—you only have to want him enough to find them. Without the source of power he feeds from, he’s weak and alone. If we find that, we find him wrapped up with a neat little bow.”

“I’ll call Ciro and get him to come home. We need him on the ground until we find Antonio,” Maze adds before excusing himself.

“While he does that, gather everyone but leave my parents out of it; they don’t need the additional stress right now. We need to talk strategy for when we find him.”

Red nods, quickly following in Maze’s footsteps, and I walk slowly behind, on my way back to Liana.

It’s like Antonio knows my mother is content with her life—a loving husband, bonus kids that Vincent had before he met her, and now more of their own—and he wants to corrupt and destroy it all.

Finally, back in my room, I head to the bathroom door and knock twice, waiting for her delicate voice to speak… but it doesn’t.

“I’m coming in,” I announce before turning the doorknob and pushing the door open.

My eyes fall to the bath, the water still draining, but no sign of her.

Retracing my steps, I exit and walk down the hall to her room, letting myself in. “Liana?” I call out.

Again, silence greets me, there’s no movement or answer.

Turning to the only plausible place I can think of, I head over to Kat and Maze’s room, but before I can let myself in, Kat blocks me and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

“She doesn’t want to see you right now,” she says, a bored look on her face.

“Why?”

“She feels embarrassed, Dario.”

“Why would she feel—”

“You left her to deal with moreimportantmatters. You left her bleeding, emotional and very fucking confused.”

“I told her I’d be right back,” I argue, staring down at her now angry features.

“I understand that you’re a don first, but in three days she’ll be your wife. You need to have a genuine conversation with her.Explain what will take you away from her and what will always come before her, but never, ever, leave her like that again.”

“I don’t do heart-to-hearts, Kat; you know this.”

“I don’t care what you do or don’t do; you need to address this now. She thinks she did something wrong and you left because of it. It was her first time, you know—that means something to women.”

“I intended to see it through, Katerina, I really did, but Red had news on Antonio, and I needed to hear it. She did nothing wrong.”

“Then tell her that,” she says, inching away from me and further into the hall. “And tell her about him, too. She deserves to know why this is such an important issue for you to deal with and why it will always,alwaystake top priority.”

I release a heavy sigh, staring at the door in front of me. Repeating the action again, I open the door and slip through, closing it behind me. Within an instant, her eyes find mine and she quickly wipes away her tears with the back of her hand.

“Liana, I’m sorry I left you there the way I did, but there was business—”

“I know your job is important,” she starts, her voice weak and croaky, “but I’m important, too. I’m a person, not just someone you can be nice to for five minutes to please yourself.”

“That wasn’t—”

“I don’t know what it was and frankly, I don’t care. I need you to understand that while I know your job takes priority, if we ever want things to work out between us and you won’t let it, it never will. You’re a son and a brother first, a husband second and eventually, a father, too, but I need you to put me firstsometimes. This family—yourfamily—they’re all I have left. My own father shoved me into your arms and expected me to be okay with it, so forgive me if I’m prying my way into your life before you’re ready.”

She pushes herself off the bed. “If you’re not ready for me to be immersed in your life, then fucking tell me. I won’t be angry or annoyed… Sure, I’ll be upset, but I can’t force you to accept me before you want to. So just fucking tell me, Dario.”

Her words take me by surprise, and for a second, I’m at a loss for words. How do I tell her that her assumptions are right, but also so fucking wrong?

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