When Heroes Fall (Anti-Heroes in Love Duet #1)

by Giana Darling

Most girls might have dreamed of white weddings and Prince Charmings, but over the years, I’d learned the futility of such cotton candy daydreams. All I valued now, desired now, was steadfast loyalty.

“It’s usually so easy to corrupt people. I think you might prove a challenge.”

“You watch too many movies, Elena. In real life, the villain always wins because we are willing to do anything to succeed.” He paused as I did in the doorway. “I think you know a little something about that.”

He looked criminal, filled with wicked intent and handsome enough to tempt the pope to sin.

“I expect the public to fall for an anti-hero. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

On trial for murder, potentially facing a lifetime behind bars, and still, Dante Salvatore managed to have fun, however inappropriate it might have been.

Perhaps, it was as simple as the fact that I wanted some of that unshakeable calm for myself. I wanted to steal the magic of his self-assuredness and bottle it like perfume to spritz on my pulse points whenever I needed validation.

“You can cage the man, Elena, but not the idea. No collection of walls is strong enough to hold me or mine.”

“You know, it is the contrast between two opposites that heightens them both to keener glory. You shouldn’t be afraid to be coarse, just as I shouldn’t be afraid to be gentle. Too much of one thing is boring, Elena.”

“Si, these hands have seen violence and retribution, Elena, but does that mean they cannot also comfort a child, bring pleasure to a lover, or protect an innocent?”

“Who knows, lottatrice, maybe you’ll find more pleasure being in bed with the devil than you would have imagined.”

I didn’t mind working with a bitch. In my humble opinion, they were underrated.

I didn’t respond because I wasn’t thinking about golden eyes. I was thinking about a pair of steel ones as hard as armor and wondering just what kind of instrument I’d need to break that metal barrier in two.

“I’m wearing heels bigger than your dick, so if this is a pissing contest, I think it’s safe to say I win,”

I wanted to be the kind of a woman who was called a hero, but I’d spent most of my life being called a villain. If enough people treat you like a villain, you become one.

In my experience, we must make the most of opportunities we have to enjoy ourselves between the drama and the chaos.”

She looked like some heathen goddess of sex and war, conquering the room with her allure with every step she took toward me.

If I wanted to defeat my demons, I had to become the ultimate monster.

This was the contrast of all my men, of Tore, and of me. We were sinners of the highest order, driven to make money, end our rivals, and succeed at almost any cost. But we were also men. Men driven by lust and love and loyalty. By our dogs and cannoli and comradery.

Don’t waste any more time on a man who isn’t spending time thinking about you.”

“One day,” Cosima said so softly, so quietly, as if she was afraid to spook me. “I know you’ll find a man who makes you forget every fear you’ve ever had, who soothes all the ragged wounds you’ve had to endure in your life, who makes you feel more alive than you ever have before.”

It brings me peace to know the smartest woman I know is protecting the bravest man and vice versa.

“Let them come for me, then, dear old Da,” I mocked, my red lips pulled back over my teeth. “I’d sooner trust Dante Salvatore to protect me than you.”

“And if you think to fuck with me again, the Devil of New York City himself will come for you, and I won’t stop him when he does.”

This woman who was barely alive made me feel like a live wire, a lit fuse raw with power.

Elena Lombardi was an acquired taste, something to be appreciated by only the most refined palette, the most exquisite mind. As deep and brilliantly complex as expensive Italian wine, and the more I learned about her, the more I wanted to drink her down like a glutton and force her to be mine.

“You can call it what you want. A game. A deal. But don’t forget who it is you’re dealing with, hmm? I’m nothing but the devil, and I’ll take you for all you’re worth. When I’m done with you, your precious rules will be in tatters just like your clothes around your feet.”

I wanted success, money, fame. I wanted to be seen and known and heard. I wanted it all. And Dante Salvatore was the only man who could satisfy those base desires.

“Princesses always need saving, and I’ve always wanted to be the type of woman that saved herself. Maybe even the one who saved her handsome prince in the end instead.”

But Dante looked at me as if I was some priceless, mysterious work of art, and he wanted to know the story behind my almost smile.

“If being a bitch means being smart enough to know the truth and brave enough to speak it, I’ll count it as a compliment,”

“Someone gives you hell, Elena, you give it to ’em right back. You teach them that for every move against you, however slight, you’re ready to battle. So many of the wealthiest, most successful men you’ll ever see are bullies at heart, and there’s nothing a bully hates so much as pushback.”

“Hey, you think I’m a psycho, you should see Dante Salvatore when he’s been crossed. Cavolo, they call him the Devil of NYC for a reason.” He reached up again to squeeze Ethan’s bloody cheeks in one hand then turned his head to face me lingering in the doorway. “You fuck with Elena, you should know, that’s you fucking with him. And he’ll do a lot worse than I would, capisci?”

“Hey,” he said with a blasé shrug as if it was nothing. “You remind me of my wife. It was nothing to do.” “What’s she like?” I asked as we took the elevator down to the street level. He shot me a sidelong glance. “She’s a real bitch.” I laughed the entire ride down.

If anyone could take my broken and newly healed body in his hands and make it sing, it would be the mafioso I shouldn’t, couldn’t have.

Because I resolved in much the same way I resolved to solve my mother’s murder and resolved to save Cosima from the Order of Dionysus that I would show Elena Lombardi what it was like to live and love freely. And I’d do it by loving her.

“You’re sick. Binge-watching TV is the only good thing about being stuck in bed. You like HBO? My wife’s addicted to that True Blood. You like vamps, too? Lady catnip, I’m telling ya.”

“No, Marco, it’s not the blood. It’s the…I don’t know. The passion, the possession, the animalistic tendencies.” “Noted,” Dante drawled again from his place in the doorway.

And that was how I ended one of the most vulnerable days of my life, surrounded by laughing men, most of whom had probably killed a man or committed any other half-dozen felonies. And for the first time in my life, snuggled between the two big warm bodies of my brother and the mafioso I was coming to like more than I should, I didn’t care.

“Are you flirting with me?” I asked, proud that my voice didn’t shake the way my thighs did beneath the table. “Will you hit me if I say yes?” His playfulness was infectious. I tamped down my urge to smile and nodded somberly. “Yes.” “Good,” he said with a wink, “then hit me. I like it rough.”

“One day, Elena,” he practically purred, the sound a rough vibration that hummed through me. “I am going to kiss you until you melt, and then I am going to lick up every inch of you.”

“I’m already risking my career by just staying here.” I was throwing grenades blindly, hoping one of them hit the target. He was wholly unperturbed, his eyes so focused on mine I could almost read what he was going to say in the black screens before he spoke. “So, make the risk worth something.” “I’m not a gambler.” “No, but I am, and I rarely lose.”

“Not all love is romantic,” he pointed out rationally, staring into my fearful eyes. “I don’t think you’ve had enough of it to know that, but I’m offering the love of a friend and the love of my body. The love of a man who can see you are not hateful. You are not villainous. You are misunderstood. And Elena, you don’t realize this yet, but I see you, I know you, and I’m fucking undone by the beauty of you.”

At that moment, every single atom in my body was owned by him. One kiss. For one kiss, I risked it all. My career, my family, my freedom. And my life. But, Dio mio, I’d do it again and again if it meant feeling like this. So alive I burned.

He nodded somberly, his lean hips against the desk, one hand playing with the chain of the ornate silver cross he’d taken out of his shirt. He looked like an invitation to sin on an altar, the worst decision a woman would ever make, but the wicked gleam in his eyes promised he would make it worth her while.

Maybe Dante was right about making the risk worth something. Something more than my career and its success. Something worth the cost of my soul. If I was going to damn myself anyway, I might as well do it by sleeping with the Devil of New York City.

“You have many talents.” He shrugged with faux humility. “As do you. Yara will be pleased. Partnership, here you come.” I hesitated for just a split second, my smile faltering. Because honestly, I hadn’t been thinking of partnership in there. There had only been one thing on my mind, and it was six foot five with thick black hair and the propensity to look at me as if I was the Mona Lisa, to be wondered at and admired.

I hadn’t lied. I was done with men. Unfortunately, Dante Salvatore was so much more than a man. He was a beast and, the truth was, he was the only one to ever make me feel like a beauty.

Tore and Dante relished in the games they played with Aurora, laughing with her as if she was a treasure. They played chess together after dinner over wine, exchanging trash talk in a mixture of English and Italian. They were patriarchs not only of a criminal conglomerate, but of a family. And that family, that home, had been opened to me without reservation. For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt part of a happy family. Part of a whole home.

For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt part of a happy family. Part of a whole home.