Broken Rules: (Broken Duet #1)
Broken Rules: Chapter 15

Since I started dating his enemy, Frank regards me as an enemy too. He ignores me when I speak, gracing me with furious glares. I don’t care, but I am confused when he does this even when no one’s looking.

“Don’t make plans for next Saturday,” he says when I walk into the kitchen on Wednesday morning.

Too little too late. Dante reserved me for all the days this week, next week, and every week.

“I’ve already got plans.”

He scowls, highlighting the wrinkles around his eyes. “Cancel. You’ll be here to entertain my guests.”

“Another party? What’s the occasion?”

I hate that I need his attention. It’s not as if we talk about my plans or aspirations, but any conversation is worth its weight in gold. I still remember the times when Frank hugged me, and Jess told me she loved me every year on my birthdays.

Six years have passed since the last manifestation of their affection, not counting the trip to Aspen Frank and I took. Although it shouldn’t count. Frank only played nice because he wanted my help. Everything changed when Dante took over the South. Among other things, the humanity that burned in Frank went out forever.

“The boss from New York is flying in. I still have to figure out how to explain why my daughter’s dating my enemy.”

“Don’t tell him. They don’t need to know.”

“They know. His goddaughter lives in Chicago.”

“Hold on.” I look up, remembering who the boss of New York is. “Is Julij coming along with Nikolaj?”

Adam appears at the door with Burly at his side. “Should we wait in the office?”

“No, Layla’s leaving.” Frank points at two empty chairs urging his men to sit. A mocking smile tugs on his lips. “Yes, Julij’s coming, and you’ll be here, taking care of him. Don’t object. That’s the least you can do for me now that I’m allowing you to date Carrow.”

“You’re allowing me?” God, why do we always have company when I need to retaliate? I bite my tongue, replaceing a different way to hit. “Try and stop me.”

I had the dubious pleasure of meeting Julij Aristow two years ago while we were in Dubai. He’s an embodiment of everything that’s wrong with the male population. He was twenty-two back then but acted like a teenager, like those stupid, rich football players in high school: loud, obscene, irritating, king-of-the-world type.

We argued for two weeks straight. He considered my aversion toward him as a sign of attraction. When he drank too much, he was pushy and vulgar. He never touched me, but I felt sick whenever he called me sugar with a thick Russian accent.

And now I have to spend another evening with him.

A rumble of large engine filters inside the house through the open windows when Dante pulls up onto the driveway. He took on the role of my personal chauffeur, driving me to and from college every day. To my surprise, Frank didn’t argue against Dante showing up here house every morning.

The relationship between them is bizarre. Mutual respect overshadows the enormous hatred… mostly.

”You do know I’ve got my own car, right?” My bag lands on the back seat. “It’d be nice if I could use it sometime.”

Dante grips the steering wheel harder, his knuckles white with the effort. “Good morning to you too. I don’t know why you’re pissy, but don’t take it out on me.” The engine springs to life, murmuring wildly as we pull out onto the main road.

He’s a skilled driver, veering around other cars so fast it feels like they’re at a standstill, but he’s no match for Rookie.

“I’m sorry.” I cover his hand with mine when we park outside my college.

Last week Dante sat me on the bonnet and kissed me while at least a hundred students watched him mark his territory and show off that I’m his—untouchable. When I joined Jane in the auditorium later that day, the whole student body knew all there was to know about my new boyfriend. Within a few hours, my status changed from nobody to the main topic on everyone’s lips, including the professors. I’ve never enjoyed being in the center of attention, but I can’t escape the nosy looks while I’m at college.

Today, more students wait outside, staring at the black Charger. Among hundreds of nameless faces, I spot Jane. She stands by the door in a summery brown dress, tapping her wrist to let me know I should get moving.

It’s the middle of November, so the temperature outside oscillates around fifty degrees, but Jane doesn’t care about the flu outbreak spreading among the students like wildfire. I’m bundled in a thick cardigan, warm boots on my feet, not daring to put my looks above comfort.

“Keep going,” Dante says. “Why are you so pissy?”

“We’ll talk later. Newson will have a fit if I’m late.”

Dante cuts the engine, exiting the car, my bag in his hand. “We’ll talk now. I want a word with your professor anyway.”

“You know each other?”

“He does a bit of after-hours work for me.”

Newson is a sociologist specializing in public opinion. I can only guess what he does for Dante.

I thought people were moving out of my way since Dante staked his claim, but I was wrong. They’re literally running away at the sight of him. I had never taken an elevator inside this building before, but it’s free to use today because everyone takes the stairs as soon as we approach the metal door. Even Jane chose to climb instead of riding with us.

“I can’t see you next Saturday,” I say when the door slides shut. “Frankie’s throwing another party. He invited one of the bosses, and I’m supposed to babysit their son.”

Dante rests his back against the wall with a soft smile. “You can’t last one evening without me?”

We spend most of my free time together. He takes me to college every morning, picks me up after my last lecture, and takes me to his place. I don’t get home until late, but Dante doesn’t like driving me to Frank’s. Spending one evening without him might prove a struggle.

“That’s not the problem.” I click my tongue. “I don’t like the guy I’ll be taking care of. He’s a clown.”

“You deal with Luca, so you’ll have no problem dealing with whoever is coming.”

“Luca’s almost well behaved compared to Julij.”

The small smile slips from his face. “Julij Aristow? Nikolaj’s flying in?”

The elevator stops on the last floor. “I’ll spend the evening faking smiles and dodging that idiot’s obscene comments.”

“Does Nikolaj know about us?”

“He’s got a goddaughter in Chicago. News traveled faster than you predicted.”

Dante thought it’d take a few weeks for the city to replace out about us. One was enough. Gossip has an unbelievable kill radius. Like an atomic bomb, it went off outside the college building, and the shock wave traveled throughout Chicago, reaching as far as New York.

He pushes the door open, entering the auditorium as if it’s his class. Jane waits at the top row, looking impatient and slightly disheveled. She must’ve ran to get here before Dante and me.

“Layla, how considerate of you to—” Newson pauses, his face pale when he spots Dante by my side.

“Bye,” I whisper over my shoulder.

He pulls me back, grips my neck, and sinks into my lips, his tongue skimming the inseam of my mouth as if we’re not watched by one hundred people. “I’ll pick you up later, baby.” He turns towards Newson. “A word. Now.”

A fundamental change in his tone sends shivers down my spine. It sounds as if he’s inviting Newson to hell.

“What does Dante want from him?” Jane squeals, bouncing in her seat when I sit beside her.

The room falls silent, and everyone’s ears turn toward us. It’s so quiet I can hear the dust settle over the wooden floor. I clear my throat, shaking my head so she’ll stay quiet.

“Go on, spill it!” Her hand flies to her mouth, trying to keep the volume down. “Is he making sure you’ll pass with all your credits?”

“No! Of course not!” I object too eagerly.

Silence breaks, morphing into an uproar of hushed conversations. I rest my elbows on the table, hiding my face in my hands, and ignore everyone’s existence.

I last three hours of everyone’s curious glances. I’ve got two more classes before I can get home, but the constant whispers turn my stomach. A few versions of the events that allegedly took place in the auditorium fly around the campus.

Rumor has it, Dante beat the hell out of Newson in front of the whole class. A different rumor is that he pulled out his gun to threaten Newson in the courtyard. There’s also the one that has nothing to do with anything that happened. Apparently, Dante arrived at the university to tell off some guy who’s in love with me. Since no jaw-breaking, gun-firing, or threatening is involved, it’s safe to assume the author is a girl.

I ditch the rest of my classes a few minutes past noon and hide in a small café a few streets over. Cups clatter against each other while the barista rushes around, filling the room with a strong, bitter aroma of coffee. A rock ballad plays from the speakers, overshadowed by excited conversations. I sit out of the way, claiming a small table in the corner, and look out the window, covering the froth flower on my coffee with two sugars. Raindrops splatter against the glass forcing more people inside. In a few days, everyone should stop talking about me. A different topic will resurface, and I, or rather the identity of my boyfriend, won’t matter. Or so I hope.

I grab a worn copy of “Genius and Insanity” by Lombroso Cesare and a few similar books from my bag, laying them out next to my laptop. With earphones in, I start my dissertation for Newson. It’s due in five weeks, but all I have so far is a title. Locked up in the world of geniuses, I pay no attention to the world while Ellie Goulding mutes the surrounding noise.

It’s Spades who stops me typing. He tears the headphones off my head, jaw working, nostrils flared. “What the hell, Layla?!” He pulls his phone out of his pocket.

It’s dark outside. When did it get dark? I glance at the time, my eyes growing wider. It’s half-past five.

“I’ve got her,” Spades says to whoever’s on the line. “We’re in a café on forty-second street… yeah, she’s good.”

A hot sweat washes over me as I search for my phone, buried under my books. Twelve missed calls wait on the screen…

Spades plops down in the chair opposite mine with a heavy sigh. He’s by far the least handsome of Dante’s men, tall, overweight, with a nose that looks like it has been broken half a dozen times and thin, almost invisible lips.

“Everyone’s been looking for you for over two hours.” He cracks his neck with a sigh. “Why are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding. I ditched the last two classes and came here to write my dissertation. I don’t even know when it got dark. Dante’s angry, isn’t he?”

“Angry? He’s fucking fuming.” With another heavy sigh, he raises his hand, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I like you, Layla, but Dante’s got hay instead of brains because wherever you’re concerned. If it ever affects business, I’ll stop liking you. Fast.”

I’m sure Dante has more than enough problems without me causing more trouble. Despite still thinking that every man’s primary responsibility is worrying about his woman, it doesn’t apply to situations like this.

My stupidity shouldn’t be his problem.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You’re okay, Layla. That’s all that matters today. Just don’t disappear without a word again.”

A black Charger parks on the curb by the café window. I start shoving my books inside the bag, thinking of a decent apology, when Dante barges inside. I take a step back, standing behind a chair.

It’s irrational, but his narrowed eyes, heaving chest, and the vein throbbing on his neck have me looking for cover.

The makeshift barrier makes no difference. Dante shoves the chair aside, making much unnecessary noise when it topples over. He grasps my neck, yanking me close enough to reach my lips, the kiss urgent, desperate. His tongue strokes mine and he draws me closer, one hand tangled in my hair, the other snaked around my back. Muscles on his don’t relax under my fingertips.

They have no give in them, not even when he inches back slowly, and his stormy green eyes rove over my face, jaw working in tight circles.

“Cutting class?” he forces the words past his lips, each one sharper than a blade, but he’s not yelling.“Where’s your phone, Layla?”

“I’m sorry, I got distracted. I didn’t hear the phone—”

“You got any fucking idea how many people are out looking for you right now?”

My instincts kick in, and remorse dissipates, replaced by a burning sensation in my throat. I won’t act like someone I’m not. That’s not how our relationship will ever work. My immediate reaction to aggression has always been aggression.

I shove him back. “Who asked you to look for me?” I grab my bag, marching outside because we’re making a scene, and I’ve had enough attention for one day. Dante follows, grasping my arm two steps outside the door. I push him back again. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. No one asked you to look for me! You’re the only person who could gain anything from my disappearance.” I shove my finger into his chest. “I said I’m sorry. I said I got distracted. I didn’t hear the phone. I won’t repeat myself all night, and I sure won’t inform you about my every move, so stop freaking out or leave me alone.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” He takes a step closer. “You knew I was coming, Layla. I show up, and you’re not there. What the fuck did you expect me to do? Go home?! You should’ve called!”

Spades joins us, glaring at his boss. “Stop scaring her.”

They step aside, talking in hushed voices, or rather Spades talks while Dante pumps his fists and grinds his teeth, clearly unappeased with whatever Spades says. After a minute, he turns around, getting into the Charger without a backward glance my way.

“You think he scared me?” I fold my hands over my chest. “Do you know me, Spades? I’m not scared of Dante. It takes more than shouting to scare me.”

“Yeah, figures. C’mon, I’ll take you home.” He points to the parking lot across the street. “And don’t argue. The only reason he left without a fight is that I promised I’d get you home safe.”

I don’t feel safe in taxis, so objecting is out of the question. Especially since it’s freezing outside.

“That’s what I meant about the hay brain,” he says when we speed across the city. “He needs to calm down.”

“I don’t need a controlling, breathing-down-my-neck man in my life. I’ve got enough of those. I won’t be reporting back to Dante every five minutes. You can tell him I said that.”

Spades chuckles under his breath. “He wasn’t pissed off that he couldn’t reach you, Layla. Not by a long shot. He was scared something happened to you.”

Oh. My mouth parts, and warmth engulfs me like a soothing balm. I might be selfish, but I love how much he cares; how protective and worried he is.

Spades slows down as the lights change at the junction a few hundred yards away, but we never reach it. A Charger jumps out from a side street, and Dante stops in the middle of the road, forcing Spades to emergency brake. The seatbelt prevents me from breaking my nose on the dashboard. Dante jumps out of the car, jaw set, eyes focused as he marches straight at us.

Spades gets out, leaving the door open. “Are you fucking insane? You were supposed to go home!”

“Shut up.” Dante pulls the passenger door open. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“Then get out.”

“I don’t take orders. Get a dog.”

Tension leaves his face, and a small smile tugs at his lips. “Get out of the car.” He takes my hand. “Please.”

I can’t say no when he says please. I follow him back to the Charger, expecting an argument or a heated discussion at least, but he’s silent all the way home.

Once in the living room, he drinks half a glass of whiskey in one go before he even looks at me. “Is there anything I can do so you’ll stop thinking I want to use you?”

“Treat me like your girlfriend, not like your pawn.”

He lights a cigarette, sitting beside me on the couch. “When have I ever treated you like one of my people?”

“Do you hear yourself when you talk to me sometimes? You can’t boss me around, Dante. I’m yours, but I’m not your property. You don’t pay me to follow your orders, and I won’t let you dictate what I’m allowed to do.”

“Layla, I’m not acting this way to annoy you. It’s a habit.”

“A habit? I care about you, you know?” I look at him to make sure he’s listening. “It’s been a month, but I can’t imagine being without you.” Which is something I feared from the beginning. Something I swore not to let happen. “You know how to manipulate me. You know what I need and how much I lack attention, but I won’t let my man treat me the way my father and his people do. Either stop ordering me around, or if you can’t tone it down, then—”

“I can.”

Neither of us wants to hear the end of that sentence. He puts out the cigarette, pouring himself another neat whiskey. I don’t expect him to say that he cares. It’ll take time before he admits it aloud. Dante’s careful with words.

“I won’t control you. I don’t have to know where you are at all times, but when you’re supposed to meet me, and you don’t show up, don’t pick up the phone, and no one knows where you are, I will look for you.” He moves closer, kissing my lips. “Always.” He kisses again. “Until I replace you.”

I sit astride his lap and drape my arms over his shoulders, turning the innocent kiss into a battle of lustful passion.

He lays me down, covering my body with his broad, heavy frame. “Stay the night, Star.”

I shake my head, despite wanting nothing more than to have his arms around me all night.

“Stay, baby,” he whispers, kissing along my collarbone. “I want you to fall asleep next to me.”

“I don’t have clothes, a toothbrush, or shampoo.”

“Shops don’t close till ten.”

I close my eyes with a sigh, unable to say no again. “Frankie’s going to lose his mind.”