Page 32 of Capo Dei Capi's Daughter

His shirt lifts as he bends, and a shudder runs through me when my eyes glimpse the guns tucked into the back of his jeans. It feels as though every terrifying emotion I felt in the closet just ran down my spine.

“Come on,” Dante raps his arm around my back, “It’s okay now. You’re safe. You are safe with me. You will always be safe with me, but we have to get out of here.”

Leading me from the bedroom, he loads his arms with the duffle bags and box by the door before heading towards the car. After putting everything in the back of the SUV, Dante pulls open the passenger door. With his hands wrapped around my waist, he helps lift me into passenger seat. Pulling the seatbelt around my body, his lips graze over mine while he buckles me in.

He quickly climbs into the driver’s seat, turns over the engine, and accelerates down a dirt road running along the lake. My fingers are gripped so tightly around the door handle that my knuckles are turning white. My heart is still racing from the attack on the cabin…and also the speeds at which Dante is driving through these woods.

“I need you to write down the numbers in my phone,” he pushes his cell phone into my hand, “There should be a pen in the glove box.”

“Okay,” I release my grip on the handle, “But why?”

“I will answer all of your questions later, but right now,cuore mio, I just need you to listen. Write down the numbers, please.”

Grabbing a piece of paper and the pen from the glove box I scribble down phone numbers for Papa, Renzo, and Carlo – none of them numbers I am familiar with – before writing down those for a few other guys that work for the family.

“Good,” Dante nods approvingly when I finish, “Now throw it out the window.”

My shaky finger presses the button to crack the window and I slide the phone through the gap before rolling the window back up.

As I am tucking the paper into my pocket, Dante pulls the Tahoe to a stop in front of a rundown repair shop.

“Wait here,” Dante opens his door and disappears behind the shop. A few minutes later a rusted Chevy, that looks to be older than me, pulls up behind the SUV and Dante climbs out. He pops the trunk on the car before coming to my door.

“Get in the car,” he helps me from the SUV and tosses the keys onto the driver’s seat, “I just need to move our things.”

My hands are still shaking as I climb into the car. I may have grown up as the daughter to one of the city’s most ruthless crime bosses, but until today not once have I ever been subjected to this side of things. Papa has always ensured he sheltered me from being in the company of violence and death.

From the moment he climbed into the car, Dante’s hand has been on my thigh, his grip gentle yet comforting. Other than the occasional rattling noises coming from the engine, the ride is near silent.

Chapter Twenty

DANTE

As much as I want to tell Venecia what is going on, my entire focus is getting her somewhere safe first. And I know what I need to tell her can’t be done while we are driving down the highway. Unable to bring myself to make small talk, we ride in silence, my hand gently squeezing her thigh in a poor attempt at comforting her.

We are just outside Binghamton when I pull into the parking lot of a small diner. Pulling towards the back corner, I back into a spot that will provide us with a little bit of privacy and ensure a quick getaway in the event it is needed.

Turning towards Venecia, the moment she realizes she has my undivided attention, she blurts out,

“What the fuck is going on?” before I have a chance to speak.

“I’m going to tell you everything,” I cup her scared face in my hands, “I had to get you somewhere safe first.”

“I thought you had me somewhere safe,” she spits back.

“I did too,” my head dips a little in shame for the danger she was in merely an hour ago, “I don’t know how they found us.

The only things I can think of are the GPS and my phone, which is why we’ve ditched them both.”

“What aren’t you telling me? What happened last night?”

“Sal and your brothers made it home safely,” I pause while her body relaxes at knowing her family is safe, “All of them had text me last night, but when they returned home the house had been hit.”

A small gasp escapes her lips, as tries to process the shock of someone having the audacity to attack the Botticelli’s in their home.

“They took out all of the guards,” I carefully choose my next words, “and Avalie has been taken.”

“Who has her? What do they want,” the questions continue to rattle from her until she realizes what we both know this means.

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