Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Underneath all that anger, though, I’m terrified. I stare out the window and see nothing but the street outside the safe house. The covered shapes. The blood. The cigarette on the ground. Dominic’s face when I stepped away from him. A wall has gone up between us that may never come down.
When we get back to the building, the lobby is full of guards. There are men near the doors, men by the elevator, one by the hallway that leads to the service entrance. Chiara leads me into the elevator. Neither of us says anything until the doors close.
“I’m so sorry,” she says softly.
I keep my eyes on the numbers lighting up above the doors.
“I didn’t know, Sofia, I swear.”
I nod.
“Sofia.”
I look at her. She looks genuinely miserable. Her makeup is still perfect, but her eyes are red and her mouth keeps trembling like she’s forcing herself not to cry.
“I wouldn’t have helped him keep something like that from you,” she says.
“I want to believe that.”
“But you don’t?”
“I don’t know what I believe.”
The elevator doors open, saving both of us from whatever comes next.
The penthouse feels different when we step inside. Bigger. Colder. Too quiet for a place full of people. Maybe because I know every person here answers to Dominic first. Maybe because, for the first time since I moved in, I understand that even Chiara could be used as part of one of his plans without realizing it.
This whole place is a machine, and I’m living inside it. Chiara follows me into the living room and hovers near the couch.
“Do you want tea?”
“No.”
“Water?”
“No.”
“Food?”
I look at her.
She grimaces.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m just trying to help.”
I sink onto the couch. My hands go to my stomach automatically, and I hate that I can’t even control that. Every fear I have now drags a second one behind it. What if something happens to Dad? What if something happens to the baby? What if Dominic can’t protect either one of them?
Chiara sits on the opposite end of the couch. “He’s going to find him.”
I close my eyes. “Please don’t.”
“I’m not saying that because he’s my brother.”
“Then why are you saying it?”
“Because when Dominic wants something badly enough, the whole city usually bends around it.”
I let out a breath that almost turns into a laugh. Then my phone lights up in my hand, and my heart nearly stops. It’s Dominic. I don’t answer. Chiara sees the screen and wisely says nothing.
A minute later, a text comes through.
I’m going to get him back.
I stare at the words until they blur.
He means it. I know he means it. Dominic doesn’t make promises just because they sound good. But he promised before. He promised everything would be okay, and now my father is gone.
I type three different responses and delete all of them. Then I set the phone face-down on the couch.
“I want to go to bed,” I say.
“Okay.”
She sounds relieved. I go upstairs alone. I make it into my room, shut the door, and lock it behind me. Then I just stand there.
My father is missing. I can’t help but think about what he said to Maya when she called him.
“As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead to me.”
I press both hands over my mouth. An ugly sob rips through me so violently, it leaves me breathless. I slide down to the floor when my knees finally give up, and I cry so hard my chest hurts. I cry for Dad. I cry for Mom. I cry for the baby who is going to inherit this disaster of a life.
At some point, I make it to the bathroom and throw up. After that, I sit on the cool tile with my back against the tub and my phone in my lap. I try calling Dad. I know it’ll go to voicemail, but I need to hear his voice.
The beep sounds, and suddenly I can’t just sit here in silence.
“Papa,” I whisper.
My voice breaks immediately.
“Please come home. I don’t care what you said. I don’t care if you’re mad at me. You can be mad forever if you want. You can lecture me every day for the rest of my life. Just come home safely, okay?”
The voicemail cuts me off. I stare at the screen. Then my phone buzzes in my hand. For half a second, hope hits so hard I feel dizzy.
I see it’s a blocked number and I open the message.
You want your father back?
My whole body goes still.
Another message appears.
Come alone. No Vieri men. No Dominic. I can get you to him.
I stop breathing.
A third message comes through with an address in Brooklyn.
Then another.
One hour. After that, he moves again.
I read the messages three times.
Obviously, it’s a trap. I may be spiraling, but I haven’t lost all brain function. Whoever this is isn’t just being a helpful stranger. But I know where my father is now. I can get to him. I can put my eyes on him and know he’s alive.