Unspoken Obsession (Casino King #4)

23. Frankie

FRANKIE

I follow Dante through a cold stone passage, rigged with a steel framework supporting the tunnels that spread out in all directions. We walk through a large cave-like hall, filled with people packing crates onto industrial trollies.

I am too afraid to ask anything. Dante's body language and the darkness in his eyes—he has turned into that dark and dangerous man I have only seen glimpses of. I feel sick with nerves.

I hurry to keep up and wince away from the curious stares of the men around me.

We walk down another passage, and Dante pushes open a thick, heavy door. I catch sight of the number three etched into the stone above it.

Immediately the smell hits me. My body convulses as I try not to vomit. It smells like death and human waste. It's fucking freezing.

Dante flicks a light on and a scream rips from my throat.

He grabs me and clamps his hand over my mouth.

I stare in horror at the man dangling from a chain on the ceiling. He looks dead. He smells dead. His body is covered in bruises and his skin is sagging like it wants to melt off his bone. He looks like meat hanging in the back of a butcher shop.

I fight the gag reflex again and my eyes water, tears flooding over Dante's hand.

"I am going to take my hand away. You will not scream. Do you understand me?" His voice is deadly cold.

I nod; he lifts his hands, stepping to my side. His eyes are on me, but I can't tear my eyes off the man hanging lifeless in front of me.

"Is—is he dead?" I stammer.

Dante ignores my question. "Do you recognize him, Frankie? Do you know him?"

"Know him?" I say in shock. "How would I know him?"

He grabs my jaw and turns my tear-stained face towards his. "Just answer the question." He snarls.

"No. I've never seen him before in my life." I scream, filled with an intense need to get out of here. The shock has worn off and I am acutely aware of the fact that this man has been tortured to death.

I shove Dante hard, and he lets me go so I turn and run for the door.

I can barely breathe, and my legs are shaking. I fall out of the room and up against the cold stone wall in the passage outside.

I can stop sobbing.

I can't stop shaking.

I hear the door closing and Dante's arms wrap around me. He lifts me up against his chest.

"I'm so sorry, little fox. I had to be sure. I had to know if you were involved."

I shake my head in disbelief. "You think I had something to do with that?—"

"Not anymore. It was your father, little fox. He is responsible for everything."

The bright morning sunlight splashes through my apartment window onto the dining room table where I am sitting, staring at a bowl of oats. Damion is playing on the floor. He finished his cereal a while ago and has been content to keep himself busy with his new dinosaur toy.

I can't stop thinking about what Dante told me about my father last night. And I am still in shock about what I saw.

I don't think I've processed any of it.

The man's face—swollen and grotesque—is all I see when I close my eyes.

My father was behind it all.

And human trafficking? Can it really be true?

I hardly slept at all because I was tossing and turning, wondering how I went my entire life so oblivious to the type of person my father really is. Was I so spoiled and controlled that it made me blind?

I knew he wasn't a good man. His egotistical, self-centered mannerisms were always obvious, but I never could have imagined just how deeply the evil ran through his veins.

Human trafficking is the most heinous crime; murder is a lesser evil. Then to find out your blood is involved in it. I want to throw up.

I lived there, in that house with him, while his business associates and he planned and plotted and stole lives. Not only the women they took - and sold - but the families they stole them from. There were parties with pretty girls, who were 'paid'… now I wonder if they were? Or were they slaves, stolen and sold off to disgusting rich men? Men like my father.

I gag, bile rising up my throat. They were there, in my house — I could have helped them.

I push the untouched breakfast bowl away. I can't stomach anything right now.

I want to find the truth, not only for Dante and his sister but for me as well. I need to redeem myself and remove the connection to his name. My father has tainted it, and I want no part of it.

"Mommy. Finish foods." Damion says, climbing onto the chair to peek into my bowl of oats.

"Mommy isn't very hungry right now my angel."

"No, Mommy must eat."

I smile at him. His soft heart and caring attitude are a blessing. I will never let that man near his grandson again. Not now, after I know the truth.

It's one thing to want to protect your son from an overbearing narcissist - but a man who would sell another person - I can't let him near my son.

I don't even want to call him my father anymore.

Damion pushes my oats back towards me and hands me the spoon from inside the bowl. I sigh -- take the spoon from him and stir my oats again.

"If I have three more spoons - will that be enough?" I ask him, entering the same negotiations I do with him when he is being a fussy eater.

"Mm." He says, thinking hard. "Ok. Three."

I take a spoon of oats and swallow it down.

Damion watches me.

"Two more," I say. Taking another spoonful.

He nods, not letting me get away with this.

I grin, picking up the last spoonful. "Last one," I say. Then I eat it, nodding while Damion claps for me.

"Good." He says, satisfied, climbing off the chair and going back to his games.

I push the bowl away from myself again. Eating that bit seemed to settle my stomach. But I am still rampant with anxiety about this whole situation.

What can I do to help Dante?

Out of everyone I am the most likely person to get close to him - or - maybe I can get into his home office and dig around in there.

He used to threaten me with unimaginable pain if I ever went into his office. He must be hiding something in there.

I pick up my phone and message Dante.

Me: What if I can get into my father's office in his house?

Dante: I don't see how that will be safe for you. I don't like the idea of you putting yourself in a risky position like that.

Me: But whatever I find out will be important, won't it? It will help.

Dante: No, let's find another way.

I sigh in annoyance. I can help. He doesn't get to tell me I can't help. But maybe he's right. I don't even think I would get in there without my father seeing me - unless I moved back into his mansion.

The thought makes me want to vomit as soon as it comes into my mind.

Living with him back then was a nightmare, but now, knowing what he's capable of, it would be so much worse.

And where would Damion go? Because there is no way in hell he would come with me if I wanted to play dangerous games like that.

I huff. Dante is right. It's a terrible idea. The risk is too high.

At lunch time I hop in the shower, hoping it will wake me up. I'm stressed and exhausted. But I want to see Dante. We need to figure something out together.

I get dressed, then message Dante and tell him to meet me at the park near my apartment. I tell him I will be near the coffee kiosk in the center of the park.

He explained why he showed me what he showed me last night.

I understand his need to find the truth.

I hate it. I hate what I saw—but I understand.

It is also a warning to me—because now I am terrified of hiding anything from him. I need him to meet my son. His son. And from there I need to decide if I can tell him who he really is to the child.

With a nervous excitement in my body, I decided he could meet Damion, and we could all sit and feed the ducks while Dante and I talked.

I don't want to tell him that part over a text though. So, he can find out I am bringing Damion when he gets there.

His reaction will be genuine. I want to watch him and see how he manages being around a child.

We have never discussed children - and there is a possibility that he never wanted children - or never wants them and then I don't think I will be able to ever tell him he is my son's father. If he is the monster that I saw last night—then I need to run. I need to run far away. But I believe he is so much more. I want to believe he is better than that. Or perhaps it doesn't even matter because all I see in him is good, despite the obvious warnings.

At the park, Damion is skipping around with a bag of corn kernels in his little hand. He is already covered in mud from sliding down the edge of the lake, but the smile on his face tells me he is having the best time.

I arrive a little earlier so that I can settle down and be more prepared for Dante's arrival.

But even after I tried to be ready - my stomach still danced at the sight of him walking towards me.

I glance towards Damion, busy and distracted.

Standing up, I wait for Dante to walk right up to me. He hugs me tight and kisses me with a meaning that surprises me. He seems less and less worried about displaying his affection for me.

I am still nervous though as I glance around wondering if my father's goons are somewhere nearby.

"Hello, little fox. Are you ok—I mean—after last night?" He seems tense.

I nod. "Let's not talk about that. Ever."

He smiles, changing the subject right away. "You chose a beautiful day to enjoy the park's sunshine."

"Um… we wanted to come here to feed the ducks." I smile, glancing at Damion who senses my eyes on him; he turns towards us with a massive smile.

"Mommy, I got a duck friend." He shouts, throwing more corn kernels as the ducks flap around his feet.

Dante chuckles, slipping his arm around my waist and standing next to me. "So, today is my lucky day. I get to meet the man who has been stealing your attention from me." He grins down at me with a cheeky mischief in his eyes.

"Damion, come and meet Mommy's friend." I call out to my son.

"Coming." He says in a sing song voice, then dusts his hands on his pants and bolts towards us - not stopping - he runs straight into Dante. He wraps his arms around Dante's leg with his little dirty hand and muddy clothes. I gasp and go to pull him away from Dante.

"I am so sorry; I didn't expect him to do that - oh my word I'm so sorry." I bite my lip, looking at the mud spread across Dante's pants.

My son grins at us.

Dante drops to his knee, smiling and gentle. He makes a deep rolling sound that makes me tingly inside.

"It's just mud, Mom. Little boys are supposed to be covered in mud, aren't they buddy?" He asks Damion who nods.

"You, my friend?" Damion asks, poking Dante in the arm.

"I think we could be best friends. But it all depends - do you like ice cream? And chocolate?"

Damion nods again, looking as though he is going to topple over.

"I do." He roars.

"Me too. Well, I guess we can be friends then. Does your mommy like ice cream? Because I saw a man selling some on the way in here."

Dante turns towards me with his eyebrows raised. "Will your mom let us get ice cream?"

"And sauce." Damion insists.

"Sauce?" Dante says, standing up and sounding confused.

"Caramel dip." I chuckle. "Yes, we can get ice cream." Then I nudge Dante with my hip and whisper, "Are you bribing my son into liking you?"

He shakes his head, "I don't think I need to bribe him. He already said we're best friends."

Damion holds his hand up towards Dante and Dante has to bend low to take it. Then they walk hand in hand towards the ice cream truck and my heart is happy and heavy at the same time. Damion really needs a father figure. Just seeing this brief interaction reinforces that idea for me.

But not just anyone. It has to be a man who will love and cherish him.

After a few paces, Dante looks uncomfortable bending so low, so he scoops Damion into his arms and carries him.

"You are going to have more mud on you than you've bargained for," I warned him. "It's ok, it's worth it." He smiles.

Damion refuses to climb off Dante's lap while we sit on the bench eating ice cream. Dante and I talk about my father and how we can get proof. We want to get evidence -- hard evidence that we can use against him.

"I am acquainted with people who don't like your father. I think if we work with them, they can help us gather the evidence we need. Then with that, we can try to take him down. I just think we should move carefully. We don't want to go rushing headfirst into danger just because we want answers. We have to have patience."

I sigh, I hate being patient.

"But the longer we wait the more dangerous it becomes for us. Every time we are together it is a risk. My father knows who you are. We just need one of his goons to get confirmation that we are involved, and it will be hellfire that rains down on us. My father is a powerful man, and he has been threatening me for a long time - it is definitely going to get worse."

Dante nods. "I never want you or Damion to be afraid. I don't want to draw this situation out longer than it needs to - but rushing into things will only make it more dangerous."

Dante tells me about the men he is meeting with later that evening. He promises to keep me up to date on whatever he finds out.

He is gentle and attentive towards Damion and me. His constant reassurance makes me feel safer, just knowing he wants to be there for me, but I am still fearful of the endless possibilities of what could go wrong this time.

I let Dante walk my son and me back to the entrance of my apartment building. I grin when we reach the high rise. "This is me," I say, glancing up at it.

"So, you have finally let me see where you live." He laughs, leaning down and taking my face in his hands. "I hope that next time I come around I will be invited inside for dinner. Another night when I don't have to get to a meeting?"

"Definitely. But then I first want to make sure the place looks nice, and I want to..." He shakes his head and interrupts me.

"I don't care about any of that. I only care about spending time with you, little fox."

Dante leans close to kiss me again and Damion tugs at my hand. "Me also." He says, holding his arms up towards Dante.

Dante chuckles and scoops Damion into a hug.

"Are you going to be a good boy until I see you again?" He asks.

"I'm always good," he says, scrunching his nose.

"I bet you are," Dante says, ruffling his hair.

Damion and I walk into the building, and I glance over my shoulder for one last glimpse at Dante who is waiting until we are inside.

My heart is going crazy for this man.

I am filled with fear and hope.