Indebted to the Mafia King
Regrets

Eleni

By the time I finally topple off Dante, sated, the sun is nowhere to be seen, and dinner is long forgotten. My skin clings to the sheets with sweat, and I spend a long time just catching my breath.

After that long time passes, I look over at Dante. Tonight wasn't our most intense session, but usually by this point, he's up reminding me aftercare is an important part of the process and I'll get a UTI if I don't go to the bathroom. Instead, he just lays on the pillow, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling with his gaze distant. Judging by the wrinkle between his eyebrows, business has him worried, not me.

Maybe this is where I fit into the Saints now. Not boss in name, but boss in bed. The place he comes to unload the problems he can't figure out on his own, and I help him unsnarl them. At least for now.

"Thought for a thought?" I graze my fingers down the middle of his chest, avoiding the few remaining staples he says Dr. Domino is going to take out in a couple days. The stitches have all melted into his skin, leaving behind an angry red scar. He sighs. "I was thinking about what I would have done differently, that day in the Greek Corner, if I knew we were going to end up here."

I frown. "I wouldn't have done anything differently there."

"I know that." He takes my hand and smiles softly at me. "You're happy, aren't you?"

"Yeah." I look at him. "There are a few things we still need to work out, and I need my place in this organization to make sense, but overall...yeah. Are you not?"

"With you, always." He kisses the back of my hand. "But I think that might be selfish. I think you might've been better off if I never opened this door, fell in love with you, and dragged you into my fucked-up world."

"I wasn't exactly on the outside of it," I say, trying to rectify the softness in his eyes with his return to the completely condescending opinion that he's the only reason I'm here. "Why is it so bad for me to be here?" He smiles softly. "You make me dangerous."

I raise an eyebrow.

"More dangerous," he concedes. "There are things I'm willing to do, to risk, that I wouldn't before, just to make sure you're safe and happy. I'm not sure there isn't a line I wouldn't cross for you anymore." "With me," I correct. "You're not alone in this now. I know this business, and I'm here with you."

He meets my gaze, his dark eyes heavy. "You are as good as most of my capos and better than the rest. You might be better than me. But it will always be different for women in this world. There are things my-our enemies will be willing to do to you that they'd never do to me. So I need you to know that there might be a day when I tell you to run and hide, and I need you to listen on that day."

His words, and the worry underpinning them, settle into me. Memories of Luca, of the way all the Lombardi guys talked to me, float to the forefront of my mind. I can't exactly imagine Luca teasing Dante's mouth with a gun. In this game, men are always going to see me as something sexual, no matter how I dress or what I do. It's infuriating, but it's not Dante's fault.

"What about you?" he says. "I was promised a thought for a thought."

I smile. "I'm thinking I still wouldn't change anything."

"Anything?" He rolls onto his side to face me.

"Most of the worst parts weren't my fault," I say, hearing the words for the first time. "There's nothing I could've done to stop Frank Lombardi from killing Baba. Or you from killing Christos."

Dante exhales slowly. I haven't said those words to him yet. He's hurt by them, obviously, but like he regrets it. Like he wishes Christos was still alive as much as I do.

"I do wish Mama was here," I admit. "I know it's too dangerous, and I don't mind that, but I miss her."

Dante kisses my knuckles. "We'll visit her soon. Peacetime leaves a lot more space for vacation."

"I'll hold you to that." I smile.

"I expect you to." He sits up. "Now come on. If you don't go to the bathroom, you're going to get a UTI."

I laugh as I obey. There he is.

***

When the aftercare is done, Dante collapses into bed and falls asleep before he even hits the pillow. I pull a T-shirt over my naked body and pad downstairs for a water refill. The bottle by the bed is dangerously low, but he needs his sleep. He's trying to be tough, but the injury in his side is still healing. His stamina was flagging even tonight.

On my way, I noticed the light in Dante's office is still on. May as well get that while I'm up. The house staff knows not to go in except on the specified cleaning days.

I lean in and realize one of his desk drawers is still open. I shake my head. There's no one quite like him for blowing into a room and back out with no idea of the mess he leaves behind. He had the same effect on me that first day at the Greek Corner. I walk over to the desk to close the drawer.

On the top of his scattered stationery sits an unmistakable velvet box, just the size for a ring. My heart leaps into my throat. I shut the desk drawer harder than I need to, hurry to the door, shut off the light, and leave. That's just the ring from the jeweler, right? The tracking one we talked about?

Or is Dante planning on proposing?