Chapter 7
SOFIA
I’m about to leave the office for the day when my banking app chimes. It’s my least favorite sound in the world. Nine times out of ten, it’s telling me my account is overdrafted and I’ve racked up another fee.
When I look at my phone, though, it isn’t an overdraft warning. There’s a deposit. An unusually large deposit. A “holy shit, that’s more money than I make most months” deposit. My first reaction is to assume there’s been an error.
I open the app and see it’s come from Vieri Holdings. I sigh, push away from my desk, and get up to knock on his door.
“Come in.” He calls, then smiles when he sees me.
“I have a problem,” I tell him bluntly.
“Another one?” he jokes.
I hand over my phone to him. “There’s been some kind of accounting error,” I say as he looks at the amount on my phone. “I can email payroll and CC you, but I wanted to make you aware first.”
His face doesn’t change. He doesn’t look surprised or angry that this has happened. When he hands my phone back, he’s the picture of neutrality.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he says simply. “I authorized that this morning.”
My stomach drops. “Dominic, that’s way too much.”
“I told you I pay good overtime.” He says. “You earned it for last night. Do something fun with it. Or don’t. I don’t really care. It’s your money, so do whatever feels right.”
A small part of me wants to argue, but it really is a very small part.
It’s the part screaming that this is hush money.
He’s paying me not to quit, or not to tell anyone about Kevin Armand, or something.
I can’t quite suss out the motive, but my gut says this is more than his standard overtime rate.
The much larger part of me is thinking about the cost of Dad’s blood pressure medication and all the debts he tries to hide from me. This bonus would make a huge dent in that. Who am I to turn it down?
“Thank you.” I nod, and turn to leave his office.
The subway ride home is long and crowded, and just for a second, I contemplate using some of the bonus to take an Uber home. It would be expensive as hell, though, especially in rush hour traffic.
When we finally reach Queens, I push my way out of the crowd and head for Dad’s garage. I want to tell him about the money and get him set up on a realistic payment plan with his debtors. Maybe they’ll take it as a down payment and give him a little room to breathe.
The street is already getting darker as I walk home, and there’s a stiff chill in the air.
I wrap my sweater tighter around my body and push myself faster to get to the garage.
Having all this money makes me feel exposed somehow, even though no one on the street could possibly know what’s in my bank account.
When the garage comes into view with the lights still on, I instantly feel better. It’s the feeling of coming home. As I step inside, my stress melts away, replaced by love for my dad.
“Hey, Pops,” I call out, finding him under the hood of the car.
He leans out and looks at me, a bright smile gracing his face. “There’s my best girl,” he beams. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”
“Well, I have something for you,” I tell him.
“Oh?” He raises his eyebrow at me and wipes his hands on his already filthy coveralls.
I nearly skip over, I’m so excited. I open my bank app, tap the transaction, and hold up the phone for him to see. He squints at the number, looks at me, then looks back down at the screen.
“Where in God’s name did you get all that?” he asks in shock.
“It’s a work bonus.” I smile smugly. “And I want you to have it.”
“No, carina, I couldn’t possibly take that from you!” he protests, but even as he says it, his shoulders visibly relax, like he’s had the weight of the world lifted from them.
“I insist, Papa,” I tell him firmly. “I want you to use it toward your debt. Get out of this jam you’re in right now.”
He shakes his head and wipes at his eyes. “It shouldn’t be a daughter’s job to do this kind of thing,” he replies. “I never meant to put you in this situation.”
“That’s just nonsense,” I tell him. “You’ve done so much for me my whole life, this is just me returning the favor.”
He finally nods and motions to hug me, then stops himself when he realizes how dirty his coveralls are.
“Raincheck on that hug.” He chuckles.
There’s a knock on the garage door, redundant since the door is up, and we both turn to see two men walking in. Whatever relief Dad was feeling instantly vanishes at the sight of them. His face goes white and his muscles tense.
“We’re about to close,” he tells them in a tense voice. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, Marco,” one of the men answers in a smug voice. “We didn’t come to have work done.”
As he’s speaking, the other man knocks over Dad’s tool tower. The metal tools clatter to the ground with a sickening clank that makes us flinch. I don’t know who the hell these men are, but I have a feeling they’re connected to the mountains of collection notices he’s been hiding from me.
My pulse starts pounding so loud I can hear it. I desperately want these men to leave, and to do it without hurting my father.
“Pick that up,” I tell them in a much braver tone than I feel.
“Leave it, carina,” Dad mutters to me under his breath.
“Aren’t you a brave one,” the first man asks. “Is this your pretty little daughter, Marco?”
“Leave her out of this,” Dad hisses defensively.
“She’s the one who’s trying to get involved,” the man responds, stepping into my space while the other man moves behind me, crowding me in.
“I’ve got your money,” Dad says in a harsh tone. “She’ll pay you right now, just don’t hurt her.”
“Aww, poor little Marco needs his daughter to pay his debts,” the second man says.
He’s so close behind me I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. My stomach turns. These men could hurt both of us, and there’d be nothing we could do.
“And where did you get all that money to pay what your father owes, sweetheart?” the first man asks, reaching to my side and grabbing my work badge from the side of my purse. I hadn’t realized it was sticking out.
Something shifts on the first man’s face. His jaw clenches and he steps back. He looks over my shoulder at the man behind me and casually shakes his head. I feel that man step away too.
“It seems we’ve come at a bad time,” the second man says from behind me. His voice is so deep and so loud in the small space, it nearly makes me jump.
“Don’t worry, though,” the first man responds, keeping his eyes on me. “We’ll be back another time. When your daughter isn’t here to protect you.”
The threat washes over me, leaving me cold.
They slink back out the door and Dad immediately shuts and locks it, still looking pale. When he’s finished, he turns back to me.
“Are you okay, carina?” he asks hurriedly.
I shake my head. Even though I’m physically fine, the encounter’s left me shaken.
“Who were those men, Papa?” I ask him tersely.
He sighs. “We’d better talk.”
We walk back to his place in silence. His head hangs low and his hands won’t stay still.
It’s only three blocks, a walk I’ve made so many times I could do it in my sleep, but tonight it feels like a thousand miles.
When we finally get there, he drops heavily onto his couch and looks at me with repentant eyes.
“Who were those men?” I ask again in a tight voice.
“They’re just neighborhood thugs.” He shrugs.
“Don’t,” I say, putting my hand up. “Don’t you dare lie to me. You owe them money. What exactly have you done?”
He sighs heavily and drops his head into his hands. “I screwed up, carina,” he finally answers. “The garage was struggling, and no bank would give me a loan. So, I went to see a man I’d heard about.”
I shake my head. “Please tell me you didn’t take money from some loan shark,” I groan in frustration. “How much is the interest on a loan like that?”
“It’s steep,” he replies. “I won’t lie to you.”
“I can’t believe you kept this from me! I’ve been busting my ass trying to help you with your debts. All this time, I thought you were getting collection notices from a bank. Or, at the very worst, some kind of payday loan. Why would you get involved in something like this?”
He looks up at me and his eyes flash with frustration. “I didn’t have a choice, carina.”
“You always have a choice,” I shoot back. “You have me! I would have helped you figure it out.”
“You’re my daughter,” he shouts back. “It shouldn’t be your job to take care of me.”
“But I am taking care of you!” I scream, reaching my breaking point. “I took this job to take care of you! I’m giving you all this money to take care of you.”
“Let’s talk about this job then, hmm?” he huffs. “I noticed Bruno and Frederico got very nervous when they saw your work badge. Exactly what kind of place are you working that’s paying so much money?”
“It’s just a hospitality company,” I groan. “You knew that when I interviewed.”
“You were interviewing for a different job than the one you got,” he points out. “I know almost nothing about the job you actually do. Who is this man you work for? What does he do?”
I stop short, because I don’t have a good answer for him. The truth is, last night has me wondering the same thing.
Dad is right. Those thugs did react weirdly when they saw my work badge. I take a deep breath and try to clear my head.
“We need to be more honest with each other, Papa,” I tell him gently. “You can’t hide stuff like this from me. And, as far as I’m aware, I’m not hiding anything from you. If that changes, I’ll tell you.”
“I don’t like it,” he says. “Something isn’t right about the place where you’re working.”
“Then I’ll find out,” I tell him, though I already know that if I find anything shady, I’m not telling him about it.
The hard truth is, the longer I work for Dominic, the more I’m willing to keep his secrets. Even from my father.