12. Chapter 12
V iktor
No hint of sabotage was mentioned when police paid us a visit.
I’m so proud of Clara. Hers was the most believable display of daughterly grief I’ve ever seen.
She cried on cue, attempted to answer their questions but quickly grew overwhelmed, and even fled the room in tears. That left me to answer for her.
Good girl.
I have no problem supplying answers designed to plant the potential of both suicide and murder in their minds.
I mean, seriously, if you’d stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars from your mafia business partners and was about to be exposed, crashing your car into a mountain might seem a far less painful way to go.
Especially considering the alternatives.
The men he owed would have made an example out of him, just like they’d happily make an example out of me if I tell the cops who they are. I only say, ‘the wrong people.’
I’ll give the cops credit. They already knew about the contract giving control of the King’s Crown to Clara.
When they inquire, I turn their interest right back to what I prefer they believe.
He owed a lot of money to dangerous people, and he only gave Clara the casino to divert their attention away from him to his daughter.
“I can’t think of a single person who’d do that to their kid,” one cop says. His cool gaze says he knows exactly who and what I am.
“You didn’t know Alviero,” I return. “He was as shitty a parent as he was a person. If you want to see them, Clara has the scars on her back to prove it.”
I’m pretty sure my utter lack of grief during the Q and A has already launched me right up to Suspect Number One on their investigative list. Did I care?
No, because I didn’t kill him, and all the steps I’ve taken to expose him have been thoroughly checked and concealed.
Even if, by some miracle, they dig up something to pin on me, I have more than enough money to guarantee my jail time is next to nothing.
Judges can be bought, so can prosecutors and juries, although I’d much rather avoid trial altogether if possible.
“Did you have something to do with his death?” the other cop asks.
I look him dead in the eyes. “No. Now, ask me if I’m sorry he’s gone.”
They glance at one another.
“Are you?” the first inquires.
Glancing upstairs, I make sure she’s not listening before lowering my voice. “No. In fact, I hope you never find out for sure whether this was an accident or deliberate. If you do, though, let me know. I’ll pay their court costs.”
“You seem pretty angry,” the second comments.
I let him glimpse just how angry Alviero has made me.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t be pissed as hell at the man who not only beat your wife when she was a child but was still doing it. I’ve already promised her no one will ever hurt her like that again. I keep my word.”
“Would you kill to keep it?” asks the second without missing a beat.
I laugh, soft and low. I almost tell him he can bank on that.
Any man worth the title of Daddy would risk anything, everything, for the little girl in his keeping.
I never meant to fall in love with her. I never even wanted to like her.
I took her against her will, but she fits me, and I won’t let her go.
That makes it my job to ensure she has everything she ever needs—physically and mentally.
I’ll run into a burning building for her and kill the man responsible for the fire.
I’ll take a bullet for her. I’ll take a battle’s worth and spare no expense in slaughtering everyone stupid enough to take a shot.
More, I’ll keep her out of danger. I’ll keep her innocent of the man I am everywhere but the bedroom.
I’ll make her strong, confident, and independent.
I’ll show her how to run her casino, even show her how to do it honestly.
I want to keep her sheltered from what my restaurant and I do.
I have a year to show her she’s everything to me, to make her fall in love with me and make her want to stay.
Plan B means keeping her against her will, and I’d like to avoid that if possible.
“Would you?” the officer asks again. “Would you kill for her?”
Without hesitation, I would, but that’s not what I tell them.
“Tell you what,” I offer instead. “If you ever find someone stupid enough to hurt her, you let me know. Then we can find out together what I’m capable of.”
I’m definitely the main suspect when they leave my home, but I won’t be for long.
I have three men on standby, waiting to feed them anonymous leads guaranteed to take them down the path I want.
If they come back with a warrant, I have Alviero’s finances ready to turn over to them.
They’ll see what I want them to see, which is how Alviero skimmed and scammed his partners.
There’s not enough room on the precinct whiteboards to list all the enemies he made.
They say the mob is dead in Vegas. That it has been since the 80s.
It’s not.
We’re still very much alive and well and running Sin City from the shadows. By day, no one notices the fortunes we make.
By night, in the privacy of my home, I’m happy to shed all that and simply be the Daddy she’s never had.
The one who cares for her—who puts her needs first, who chases away the demons that will invariably haunt her dreams—maybe only for a little while, but maybe for the rest of her life.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll always be here. A year from now, I’ll do everything I can to make sure she stays because I already know, regardless of what I tell her now, I won’t let her go. Not then, not ever.
I can’t.
She’s mine now.
The little girl I kidnapped, the one I coerced into marriage to punish Alviero, the one I’m content to keep as my captive for the rest of my life.
The one I’ve fallen in love with so hard and so fast, I never noticed it happening.
She soothes the monster I am.
I feel gentle when I take care of her.
I feel… normal.
She completes me.
The best thing to ever happen to me.
Daddy’s good girl.
My little mafia princess.