Chapter Twenty One
Nina's POV
I woke up warm.
Dante's chest was at my back. His arm was around my waist. My leg was over Enzo's thigh in front of me. I could feel Nikolai's knee behind mine.
We were all in the same bed.
But nothing had happened.
We had only kissed last night.
Just kissing. Just touching a little. Then Dante stopped it. He said he was still healing and did not want to rush. Enzo and Nikolai agreed. They pulled the covers over me and made me sleep in the middle.
That was all.
Still, my cheeks burned as I lay there. My body remembered every kiss. Every look. Every hand that had held my face like I was fragile and strong at the same time.
Dante's fingers moved on my stomach. "You're tense," he muttered against my neck. His voice was rough from sleep. "You're thinking again."
"I'm awake," I said, small.
Enzo's hand slid off my thigh as he turned onto his back. "Good morning, princess," he said, voice lazy.
Behind me, Nikolai made a soft sound. "Too early," he grumbled. But his arm stayed over my waist, holding me against him.
I looked at Dante over my shoulder. His dark eyes were open now. He was watching my face, like he was trying to read my mind.
"How do you feel?" he asked. "Tell me the truth."
"A bit shy," I said. "Awkward. Happy. Scared. All together."
Nikolai's chest shook behind me. "Honest," he said. "I like that."
"You regret it?" Dante asked. His voice was calm, but his hand on my waist got a little tighter.
I thought about last night.
Them kissing me one by one. Dante holding my face in his hands and kissing me like he had been waiting for years. Enzo's hand in my hair as he pressed his mouth to my neck. Nikolai's forehead against mine as he whispered that I was safe.
Then Dante had pulled back.
"That's enough for tonight," he had said.
I was breathing hard. My lips were swollen. I had nodded. I was not ready to go further anyway. Everything already felt big and strange and new.
Now, in the morning, I knew my answer.
"I don't regret it," I said.
Dante let out a slow breath. Some tight line in his jaw eased. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. "Good," he said softly.
Enzo pushed himself up on one elbow. "You're ours now, you know," he said. "You said it yourself. In front of your father."
My heart jumped at that memory. The kiss in Dante's room. The shocked faces. My own voice saying I was theirs.
"I remember," I said.
Nikolai's lips brushed the back of my shoulder. "Say it again," he murmured. "Just for us."
I swallowed. "I'm yours," I whispered. "All of you."
The air in the room changed. It got heavy. Hot. Dante's eyes went dark. Enzo's mouth curved into a slow smile. Nikolai's fingers dug a little into my waist.
Dante slid his hand up my side. "Come here," he said.
I turned toward him. He kissed me. Not soft this time. Deep. Hungry. His hand cupped the back of my neck.
Enzo's fingers tipped my chin when Dante pulled back. He kissed me too, slow and sweet.
I was breathing fast now. My body was waking up in a different way.
Nikolai's hand slid under the edge of my shirt, just at my hip. His fingers were warm. He nuzzled my neck. "We can take it slow," he said. "We have time."
My head was spinning. My heart was racing. All three of them were close. Kissing me. Touching me. Not too much, but enough to make my stomach twist.
"Nina," Dante said, his voice low. "You want us to stop?"
I opened my mouth to answer.
I never got the chance.
The alarm screamed through the house.
A sharp, high sound. Loud. Angry.
All three men moved at once.
Dante ripped himself away from me. Enzo rolled off the bed and hit the floor already reaching for his gun. Nikolai was on his feet in two seconds, all sleep gone from his face.
My heart slammed against my ribs. "What is that?" I gasped.
"Security alarm," Enzo snapped. He was already at the keypad on the wall. "Outer gate."
Nikolai grabbed his pants and shoved his legs in. "Which side?"
"East," Enzo said. His jaw clenched. "Near Nana's quarters."
Cold shot through me. "Nana?"
Dante was already half dressed. He snatched his gun from the nightstand with his good hand. The injury in his shoulder did not slow him at all.
"Stay here, Nina," he said. His voice was sharp now. Boss voice. No softness. "Do not move."
"No," I said. My voice was shaking. "That's Nana."
"Nina." His eyes locked on mine. Hard. Commanding. "I am not asking."
He was out the door before I could answer. Nikolai followed him, gun tucked into his waistband.
I scrambled out of bed anyway. My legs trembled, but I forced them to move. I snatched up one of Dante's shirts and pulled it over my head. It hung mid-thigh. I grabbed a pair of shorts from the chair and shoved them on.
Enzo turned from the keypad and saw me by the door. "He said stay," he warned.
"Fire me," I snapped. "I'm going."
His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but his eyes were serious. "Then stay behind me."
We ran.
The hallway was full of movement. Guards with guns rushed past in black shirts and dark pants. Boots pounded on marble floors. The alarm kept howling.
We reached the security room. Screens covered the wall. Different camera angles flashed in front of us.
Enzo pushed a man out of the chair and took his place. "Show me east gate," he barked.
One big screen changed. I saw the outer gate, the high fence, the drive.
The gate was open.
A yellow taxi sat just inside. The driver gripped the wheel with white knuckles. His eyes were wide.
Two guards stood in front of the car. Guns in their hands. But they were not firing. They looked confused. Like they did not know what to do.
Then I saw her.
Nana.
She stood between the guards. No. She leaned on one of them like she could not hold herself up. Her clothes were dirty. Her gray hair was loose and messy. There was blood on her forehead. A bruise dark on her cheek.
My knees went weak. "Nana," I whispered.
Beside her was another woman. Slim. Long dark hair. Clean blouse. Jeans.
She turned her head, and my stomach dropped.
Isabela.
My mouth went dry.
She did not look hurt. She did not even look tired. Her hair was a little messy, but her face was smooth. No cuts. No bruises.
Still, her eyes were wet. Her mouth trembled. She looked like a saint in a cheap movie.
On the screen, Dante and Nikolai came into frame from the right, guns out but pointed down. They walked straight up to them.
I hit the button for sound.
"… I swear, I didn't know where else to go," Isabela was saying. Her voice shook. "I was on my way to work. I saw two men pushing her into a van near the bus stop. She was crying. I just… I just ran. I pulled her away and we ran. They chased us."
Nana's hand clutched Isabela's arm. "She helped me," Nana whispered on the screen. "They grabbed me from behind. They had a cloth. I could not breathe. She screamed and pulled me. We ran. We almost died, Boss."
Boss. Boss.
She looked at Dante like he was her only safety.
Dante's face was flat. No emotion. "Why here?" he asked Isabela.
"I know this is your house," she said fast. "From before. I know you have guards. I told the taxi driver your address. I thought… I thought you would keep her safe. Even if you hate me."
Her voice cracked on the last line.
She was good. Too good.
The pain on her face looked real. The fear in her eyes looked real.
If I had not heard her voice on that call. If I had not seen her picture in that envelope from my father. I might have believed it.
I knew better.
On the screen, Dante looked at Nana next. "Can you walk?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, Boss. My legs… they shake, but yes."
"Bring them inside," Dante told the guards. "Slow. Watch the road. If anyone followed, I want to know."
They started walking up the drive.
A few minutes later, the front doors of the house opened.
They came in.
Seeing Nana in person hit me harder than the screen.
She looked small. Older. Her lip was split. Her hands shook. There was dust on her clothes.
I ran to her. "Nana!"
She dropped the guard's arm and reached for me. I wrapped my arms around her carefully.
"Mija," she sobbed into my hair. "Nina. Ay, gracias a Dios. I thought I'd never see you again."
Tears filled my eyes and spilled over. "You're here," I said. "You're safe."
Dante stood a few feet away, looking at them. His gun was now at his side, but his eyes were sharp. Enzo and Nikolai flanked him.
Isabela stood back a little, just inside the door. Her hands were wrapped around herself. She shook as if cold.
"I know you don't want to see me," she said quietly. "But I couldn't leave her there."
My head snapped toward her.
She looked at me. Her eyes were wide. Shiny with tears. Her lower lip trembled.
"I was wrong before," she said. "About everything. I was stupid. I thought I had time. When I saw them drag her… it was like a wake-up call. I just ran. I didn't even think."
Nana nodded weakly. "She fought them," she said. "She pulled me. They shouted. One hit her here." She touched her own head. "I heard gun. Or maybe firework. I don't know. We ran."
There was no bruise on Isabela's head. No blood in her hair. Nothing.
My fingers curled into Nana's shirt.
Dante's gaze did not leave Isabela's face. "You're lucky they did not shoot you," he said in a flat tone.
"Maybe," she said softly. "Maybe I'm not worth a bullet."
It sounded humble. Sad.
My skin crawled.
Dante's jaw flexed. "We'll check the cameras near the bus stop. We'll verify your story."
"Of course," she said. "Do whatever you need."
Nana swayed a little. Dante stepped closer, his voice soft for her. "We're going to the infirmary. We will clean you. Check your ribs. Make sure nothing is broken."
She nodded quickly. "Yes, Boss."
He looked at me. "Come with us."
I nodded.
Then he turned to Enzo. "Put her in a room," he said. His voice went cold again. "Guest house side. Not near Nina. Two guards at the door."
Isabela's eyes widened. "You're… letting me stay?"
"For now," Dante said. "Until I find out exactly what happened."
"Thank you," she whispered. "You don't know what this means."
Oh, I thought. I think he does.
Enzo stepped toward her. "I'll show you the room," he said. His tone was polite, but there was steel under it.
Isabela nodded and turned to follow him.
As she turned, her eyes met mine.
For one second, the fear on her face vanished.
Her mouth curved into a small, cold smile. Not warm. Not grateful.
A slow, sharp smirk.
Her eyes narrowed, hard and flat, before she looked away.
Then she lifted her head, let her shoulders droop again, and went back to looking weak and scared as she followed Enzo toward the guest house.