The Boss of bosses. Dante kept his stare on his hands clenched in his lap. "Almost six decades, actually. There isn't a need for one with the Commission."

"Hmm, I would disagree. There is always a need to take as much control as you can and you know why."

For power.

Dante pushed away from the pew, straightening. He fixed his suit jacket and loosened his tie, ready to be out of the damn things. "I don't want to be a target, or worse, make my wife one in an effort to surpass my father's achievements."

"Ah," Antony drawled, waving a finger in the air. "But you already have, Dante. Exceeded me, I mean. Anything beyond what you've managed to accomplish so far will simply be you building your empire higher. I am so pleased, son."

Dante's lips quirked, twisting at the edges almost bitterly. "That's the thing, though, Papa. I no longer need your approval to guarantee my happiness."

"And that's what makes me proud." Antony gestured at the aisle. "Let's go. I'm starving."

When Dante got to the end of the aisle and made a move toward the exit of the church, Antony cleared his throat. "Aren't you going to go and get Catrina?"

"Huh?"

"I told Catrina you would find her. She didn't go outside with the rest of the family. She went toward-"

"Confession," Dante interrupted, a sly smile growing.

Chapter Fifteen.

"Oh! Can we stop at the coffee shop off the exit ramp before we head home?" Cat asked.

Cat's new best friend-according to her husband only-tossed her a glance in the rear-view mirror and winked a little too haughtily for her liking. "I knew that frilly shit would warm you up, principessa."

She sneered in response. "It's queen, Tino." Cat ghosted her palm along Johnathan's dark curls, being mindful not to wake him from his nap. "And watch your mouth. I don't care if he is sleeping."

"He's fine. Let me guess, you want another soy French vanilla latte, right? Deny it all you want, reginella," Tino said, teasing Cat more by calling her a little queen. The damn man knew how to work her last nerve like nobody else. She figured he did it to keep her on her toes so she didn't mind. "You know my gifts make you like me."

"Don't huff too hard with your pride, sorca, or your head might explode with hot air. Trust me, I wouldn't mind the mess so long as you didn't stain my dress."

"Merda, Catrina. You talk about my dirty mouth and then use words like that. What would your husband say?"

Cat laughed darkly. "Dante would assure you that I could say much worse and that he likes my dirty mouth very much."

Tino clicked his tongue but kept his eyes on the highway in front of them. He wisely chose to stay quiet and not bait Cat further.

Really, she didn't mind Tino. He'd been her new companion for almost two weeks. The man could push her buttons, but Cat was pretty sure that was exactly why her husband picked him to be her guard. Tino provided Cat with both challenging and amusing conversations. He gave her shit back to her just as hard as she gave it to him. Truthfully, he had not been what she expected for a bodyguard, but she was grateful all the same.

As Dante promised, the enforcer was waiting for her the very first time she left their condo alone after their late night conversation on the topic. Tino usually trailed behind Cat, but since Johnathan was coming to stay the night, the enforcer acted as their driver.

"What's the plan for principe John this weekend?"

"Boy, you're chatty today," Cat said. "You always talk too much, Tino."

"Making convo, so retract your claws. Be nice and play along or this car ride becomes dull."

"I think your silence would be fantastic."

"Sure you would. You like me, Catrina. I don't care how you act." Tino glanced between the rear-view and the side mirror as the car drove down the long ramp. "Where is the boss today, anyway?"

"Dante is overlooking a few contractor profiles to be added onto Empire Development's resume."

"It's really growing, huh?"

"It is. He's doing well."

Tino's gaze flicked to the rear-view mirror again but he wasn't looking at Cat, but rather, beyond her. "Where is he doing that today?"

Cat's brow crinkled. "Why does that matter, Tino? He's working. That's what he does through the week like always."

"Catrina, where is he right now?"

She checked her watch, noting the time as late morning. "He's still at the office. Why?"

"Will he answer your call if you phone him?"

"Of course, he would."

Cat was Dante's wife, for Christ's sake. Yes, he would answer her calls.

"Do that, would you?" Tino asked quietly.

"Tino-"

"Don't argue with me, just call the boss, Catrina. Now."

Something in the lilt of the enforcer's tone sent a chill running down Cat's spine. When Tino checked his mirrors again, eyes narrowing, Cat knew what was happening. She turned in her seat to look out the back window. Sure enough, a dark sedan was maybe ten feet away from their bumper. The windows, even the front windshield, sported a tint so dark it had to be illegal. It also made it impossible to distinguish the driver.

"How long have they been following us?" Cat asked, squinting but still failing to discern who could be behind the windshield.

"At least twenty minutes," Tino answered.

"And you didn't think to tell me twenty minutes ago?"

"I wasn't sure, Catrina. They were too far back from us for the car to be distinguishable. It's a dark sedan. We've had at least ten other dark sedans pass us since I noticed them. I didn't want you to panic."

"I am not fucking panicking!"

Catrina didn't panic, she just got pissed off.

"You should call Dante," Tino said.

"You should shut up and give me a moment to think!"

"There is no one else following us that will help if whoever is in that car is someone who might want to hurt you or John. I need to focus on the road, so you need to call your husband."

Cat's jaw tightened as she subconsciously covered a sleeping Johnathan in his car seat with her arms to protect him. She watched through the back window as the car tailing them sped up until the vehicle was only a few feet away. The SUV's windows were tinted quite dark, so Cat didn't think they could see her in the back, either.

A dreadful sensation welled in her midsection. As if her racing heart had suddenly leaped into her throat while her stomach plummeted to the floor.

"Tino, has Dante warned you of anyone who may want to hurt me?" Cat asked, her voice barely breaking a whisper.

She didn't need to hear his answer because she already knew, but she asked anyway.

"No," Tino muttered.

Well, then. Cat had little doubt of who the men were in the car, or rather, who the men belonged to.

Bruno Savino.

Cat had been so mindful of the people around her. She trusted the men she worked with to protect her. There had not been a time when she was accosted by Bruno's lackeys since she took Michel eight months ago. She assumed-maybe wrongly so-that her marriage to Dante would frighten Bruno away.

She was so sure it had.

"Are you gonna call-"

"Yes," Cat barked harshly, quieting Tino instantly.

She cursed under her breath when Johnathan stirred in his seat.

"Merda ... shhh, it's okay, bambino. Sleep for Zia Catty, Johnathan. Sleep."

It took Cat far too long to find her damn cellphone in her purse. She dialed Dante's number and shushed Johnathan back into a slumber while the call rang through. On the fourth ring, her husband picked up.

"Ciao, bella mia."

Cat sucked in a hard breath, the panic she denied feeling earlier brimming. "You're at the new office, right?"

"Yes." Papers shuffled on the other end of the phone before Dante snapped at someone to leave his things where they were. Then, his attention was back on the call. "Why, kitten?"

"Johnathan is with me."

It was the first and most important thing for her husband to know.

"Yeah, Lucian called and said you picked him up earlier. Do you want to meet somewhere for lunch?"

"No, I don't think we'll be able to do that. Dante, we're being followed and have been for at least twenty minutes by Tino's estimation. We're in the middle of the highway and five minutes from the exit ramp headed for home. There is not enough traffic to lose whoever it is and they are terribly close to smashing into the back of our SUV."

Dante grew silent on his end. So quiet, that Cat didn't hear him even breathe. A door slammed and her husband asked, "Are you sure?"

"S."

"There's been nothing for me to believe someone-"

"Because this isn't about you or the Marcellos. It's about me. I know exactly who it is, Dante."

Cat didn't want to have this conversation like they were. Not separated by miles and under duress. Her lies and secrets would surely hurt her husband, but loving him meant trusting him, too. She needed to have faith he would forgive her and understand why she did what she did, including trapping him into a marriage under false pretenses.

He loved her, too.

Cat reminded herself of that when Dante's tone took on a sharp edge and he demanded, "What do you mean it's about you? What do they want from you, to kill you?"

"He doesn't want to kill me so much as he wants what I stole from him. I suppose if that means killing me to get it, then that's what he'll do."

Cat would take Michel to her grave before she ever handed her nephew back to that bastard, so whatever point Bruno wanted to make was useless.

"Catrina-"

She didn't get the opportunity to hear whatever Dante said because her phone went flying out of her hand at the same time the SUV veered hard to the right. With no seatbelt on to keep her secured in the seat, Cat's side slammed into the door and her head cracked against the window. Pain reverberated through the side of Cat's skull. She shook off the ache, knowing damn well she had worse before.

"Cazzo!" Tino shouted.

Cat fumbled wildly to find where her cellphone had fallen but couldn't. A flash of black outside the window caught her eye, making her air stick like tar to her lungs. The car wasn't following them anymore, it was right beside them and threatening to swerve into them again.

"Drive faster," Cat hissed.

"I can't. It's on the goddamn flo-"

Tino's words cut off when the black car jerked sideways and hit their side. He tried to move their SUV to miss the hit but didn't make it in time. Cat heard the tires of the SUV crunch on gravel. She hit the floor of the SUV as if she was nothing more than a limp ragdoll.

Cat cried out, a sting stabbing through her left wrist. She flung her arms out to steady her swaying and brace for the impact, but gravity took over and she hit the ceiling. Without pause, she slammed into the spot between the back seat and the front seat again, her lower half lodging under Johnathan's car seat. Items inside the car flew in all directions. Glass shattered with a cracking bang, the dull shards littering the floor and seat. Tino cursed louder. Cat watched as colors bled together outside of a broken window.

Oh, Jesus.

The vehicle was rolling, but she was stuck, now.

Cat covered her head with her arms, tried to shove more of her body under the space between the car seat and the floor, and waited for the wildly fast movements to stop. When it finally did, Cat's insides felt like they were going through a mixture of seasickness and vertigo, if that were possible.

Silence covered the inside of the SUV. It didn't last long.

High pitch wails echoed from Johnathan. Choking sobs that shouted his confused fear with every cry. The pain in Cat's wrist continued to throb as she squirmed and wriggled her way out of the tight confinement. Glass scratched her hands when she grabbed the seat to help pull her the rest of the way out. She didn't give a shit. Getting stuck like that probably saved her life and kept her from flying out of the broken windows when the car rolled.

How many times had they rolled?

Cat fell to the back seat, gulping in deep breaths to calm the nauseous feeling. Her jumbled thoughts wouldn't settle enough to let her think clearly and her vision was blurred around the edges. She tried repeatedly to clear it away by blinking, but still the darkness stayed.

Johnathan cried harder. Cat finally snapped from her haze, leaning over the seat to find her poor nephew. Glass had scattered across the child's coat and hat. Fat tears streaked down his red cheeks. His wide hazel eyes searched for something-anything.

"It's okay, piccolo. Oh, Johnathan, don't cry, dolce ragazzo. Zia will make it better, bambino."