Page 17 of The Heir
"Worry me?Worry me?I went to jail!" I screech. Melnyk and Roman make themselves scarce, which is probably a good idea. "You're gonna fucking talk, and you're gonna startnow."
"You're right. You're right. I'm sorry. The Seraph… okay, how do I explain this? The Seraph are, for lack of a better term, our enemies." Dante presses his hand to his forehead, still not looking at me. "For decades, for centuries, they have tried to bring the entirety of the Goetic Consortium down. Through any means necessary."
"Oh, right, of course—how silly of me—you MASSIVE dickhead! You didn't fucking tell me you have some all-powerful enemies?" My fingernails cut into my palms with the force I've balled my fists. I'm gonna punch him. I swear to god, I'm going to punch the shit out of my dickhead husband. "Let me guess, Ella is some high-ranking, I don't know, mob boss?"
"I meant to tell you. I just… I never knew this would happen, love. I promise you, I never wanted you to be in danger. I never wanted you to be mixed up in all this mess. I never wanted you toworry—I wanted you to be happy!" Dante insists.
"Don't you 'love' me, shithead! You think I'm happier now? You think I'm fucking happy that I went to jail, not because I killed Charlie or any of the other fuckers, but because you have some rivalry with the cops?" My whole body is shaking, and I can't stop it. I can't stop my teeth from grinding. I can't stop my muscles from tensing.
"I was wrong. Melody, I'm sorry. I was wrong. I should have told you everything. It was naïve for me to think you'd be left out of this." My asshole husband finally turns to look at me with shame in his eyes. "I'm so sorry."
"You're gonna have to do alotbetter than that, dickhead." God, I could kill him. I could actually kill him. I could reach out and strangle his stupid, idiotic, obscenely handsome face.
Dante
No matter the situation, my wife is a gorgeous woman. Stunning, even. Most of the time, the red flush creeping up her neck is due to the pleasure I bring her. Most of the time, it means I'm about to dive balls deep into her glorious cunt. Most of the time, it means that she might wrap her legs around my head in ecstasy.
Today is not that day.
Her chestheaves with furious breaths as she regards me with unbridled rage. I'm an idiot, honestly. My calculated decision-making skills be damned—that's what was expected of me. That is exactly how the future Dantalion was to behave. But once I married Melody—and truly fell in love with her—all of that went completely out the window.
She's right. I'm wrong. It's as simple as that. Of course, I should have told her. Of course, I should have warned her. I'm not just an idiot; I'm a threat to her safety becauseI didn't warn her. Is it fair to blame Valencia's death? Is being distracted a good enough excuse? Scared?
Judging by the look on Melody's face? No.
"I can't believe you, Dante." Her lowered voice makes me hold back a shiver. I wish she were yelling at me. I wish she were screaming, trashing the cabin—anything but this cold calm. "I thought you loved me."
"I do! I do. Melody, please—I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I swear to you, I love you more than anything on this earth. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you—well, I'd kill more people for you—I'd give up anything for you. I'd steal theMona Lisaif you wanted me to." I can't control the words coming out of my mouth. I mean every single one of them, truly, but I'm sure I sound more pathetic than reassuring.
Her fury is a beautiful thing. Her murderous anger drew me in like a moth to a flame when she picked me up on that back roads highway, all those months ago. I adore it. I crave it. But when it's aimed at me? For something IknowI was wrong about? It hurts. God, it hurts. And I only have myself to blame. "I'm sorry, my love. I really, really am."
"Prove it," she replies in that same cold, indifferent tone. "Prove it, Dante. Prove to me that you won't lie—whether telling me actual lies or omitting the truth—you won't ever lie to me again."
"Absolutely. I promise. What do you want to know? What can I tell you?" I sink to my knees in front of her, staring up at her face. Ineedher to look at me with love again, instead of anger.
"You can fucking start with everything you know about the Seraph and how Ella fits into this." She folds her hands delicately in her lap.
"Yes—of course. The Seraph, as I mentioned, have been sort of the enemies of the Goetic Consortium for centuries. They fancy themselves to be the long arm of the law, as it were. Centuries ago, the original Goetia fought actual wars with them. Swords, cannons, muskets. The works. Nowadays, it's more subtle. To the public eye, the Goetic Consortium doesn't exist. We are unrelated businesspeople, right?" My knees are starting to hurt, but she hasn't given me anything other thanthat icy glare. Fuck, I'll stay on my knees for the rest of my life if I have to.
"Right. Go on." Melody's flat tone feels like a dagger through my heart.
"The Seraph… well, you've heard of Interpol? The Seraph founded Interpol in the early 1900s after a few centuries of simply charging and imprisoning GoCon's people when they could. After presenting Interpol to the world, they found it's quite profitable to prosecute 'civilians.' In the last, oh, several decades? The feud has taken somewhat of a back seat, but if theycanfuck us over, they will." I grimace. "Which is where you come in."
"So… it really didn't have anything to do with Charlie at all, right? I just… I fell into Ella's lap, and she took the opportunity to fuckyouby imprisoningme?"The crease between Melody's eyebrows deepens as she works through the information. I want to kiss it away and rub her temples. I want to pull her into my chest and never let her go. Unfortunately, she might stab me if I did either of those things right now.
"That's our best guess. To be quite honest, I didn't know—none of us knew, really—how high up in the Seraph ranks Ella is, until… all of this. And it seems like she'squitehigh. As in, the Beacon for the United States."
"Beacon?" She shakes her head. "Hang on. I'm going to need you to actually spell this out for me."
"Right, sorry, love. Each country or region, depending on size, has a Beacon. They report directly toTheSeraph." I smile weakly. "The best approximation I could give you is that each of the Beacons is a senator. And the Seraph is the Majority Leader, but thereisno Minority party. Does that make sense?"
"Fuck, I guess." My wife heaves out a sigh. "And youreallydidn't think to tell me any of this until right fucking now?"
I cringe into myself. I deserve that. She is, once again, very correct. "I thought I was protecting you. Please believe me. But what Imeantto do and whatactuallyhappened are two very different things—I was wrong."
"I like hearing you say that." She smirks.
"Really? I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. Melody, I fucked up. I put you on the line—something I willnever, ever,ever do again. You're too important. You're my wife. I love you so much." My voice cracks as I profess my love, and I hate myself for it. "I know this isn't the time, I know, but I'm so fucking mad at myself. I'm mad at myself, and I'm murderously angry at Ella—the first time I told you I loved you was when you were injail."
