Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Dante laughed and I stared at the men for a long moment.
“Wait,” I said. “I’m just here… to prove you’re not afraid?”
“That’s right,” Dante said. “It’s more than that though. You’re here to show that we’re both strong. That you’re not making me weaker. That’s what he thinks, Aida. He thinks you’re a weakness.”
“She is,” Sergio said. “But it’s not a bad weakness.”
“I won’t let him exploit it.” Dante’s fists balled up. “I won’t let him force my hand.”
“Stop,” I said, standing. “Stop, hold on. I’m just… you’re just using me to show that you’re not afraid? That I’m not a weakness?”
“Aida,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not just that. I want to have a life. I don’t want you locked up in that house forever.”
“Dante, this is insane. We don’t need to risk ourselves just to prove a point.”
“That’s exactly what you need to do.” Sergio sighed and sounded exhausted. He rubbed his temple and left a smear of flour along his cheek. “I hate to admit it, but Dante’s right about this. Even if this war is fucking stupid, showing fear and weakness would be worse. It would only make Vlas hit you harder.”
Dante nodded his head. “That’s right. Sergio, what should I do from here?”
The old man shook his head. He picked up the first tray, took it to an oven, and slid it inside. He grabbed the second one, slid it in to join the first, and closed the door. He brushed his hands on his white apron and turned to face us, arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re going to have to kill Vlas or a few of his men,” Sergio said.
I felt my stomach drop. “Wait—”
“How many?” Dante asked.
Sergio shrugged. “As many as you can. Show Vlas that trying to hit you has consequences. You can’t let this get out of hand. Kill some of his men, show him you’re not going to be pushed around.”
“Dante—”
“All right,” he said, standing up straight. He winced slightly then nodded again. “I can do that.”
“Just be careful,” Sergio said.
“What happened to staying out of the war?” I asked, my eyes wide. “What happened to him being a fool?”
Sergio shook his head. “The boy’s a fool, he already knows it, and the war’s on. Might as well try and win the damned thing and come out alive.”
I stared at the men and felt a creeping sense of horror wash over me. Sergio may look like a kind older man, especially covered in flour and wearing an apron, but he was a killer, just like Dante. Together, they had so much blood on their hands, I couldn’t even imagine it.
“I’m getting something to eat,” Dante said. “Aida, you hungry?”
I shook my head and sat back on the stool.
“You can stay back here,” Sergio said as he started separating a new hunk of dough. “Go on, drink your coffee.”
“Yeah,” I said.
Dante smirked at me and brushed his fingers over my leg as he walked past and headed out the door. I watched him go and realized that I was still living under the delusion that Dante was somehow not a monster.
But he’s proven, again and again, that’s exactly what he is.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sergio said, his voice low.
“What’s that?” I felt numb, like my lips would fall off my face.
“He cares about you. I’ve never seen him care about someone like he cares about you.”
I nodded and stared at the floor. “I believe you,” I said.
“Good. But you’d better be careful. You’ve figured out what kind of man Dante is by now, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“You seem like a normal girl. Despite your shithead father, you’re probably a nice person, right? Never got in trouble, never hurt nobody, right?”
“Right.”
“Then take it from me. That’s the way to live. There’s no glory or honor in the things that we do here. There’s nothing beautiful about killing and power. If you want any chance at a normal life, walk away and never, ever look back. Because Dante will suck you into his world, and if you let him, you’ll never come back out.”
I stared at Sergio, not sure what to say. He kept working, never looked up, and his face was completely neutral.
But his words shook me down deep. So much so that I had to take a few deep breaths just to keep from breaking down and crying right there on the stool.
Because I knew he was right.
I was a good person. A normal person, at least before all this. Now the idea of killing people, of men getting killed, of violence and drugs and everything else was becoming normal, or at least no so horrible. All because of Dante, because he was seducing me and drawing me deeper into his world.
The worst part was, I wanted it. I wanted to be in his world, wanted to live with him on the edge.