Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NORA
Istand frozen behind Pietro, my body trembling as my father's cold eyes meet mine. The absurdity of this situation is almost comical.
And suddenly, I'm laughing.
It starts as a small sound in my throat, then builds until I'm shaking with it. Both men turn to stare at me like I've lost my mind.
Maybe I have.
I step out from behind Pietro, clutching the towel tightly around me. "Why the hell are you here?" I ask my father, my voice sharp with bitterness. "Where was this concern when I called you bleeding and terrified after Declan tried to kill me?"
Dad's face hardens. "Nora, this isn't the time—"
"When is the time?" I cut him off, taking another step forward. "When Declan had his hands around my throat? When I begged you for help and you told me to fix my own mess?"
Pietro's eyes flick between us, his head moving from one direction to the other.
"You left me alone," I continue, my voice cracking. "Your own daughter. And now you show up with guns because what—I'm with a Sartori? That's what finally gets your attention?"
"Not talking about this here," He growls, gesturing with his gun toward Pietro.
"Why not? Because you don't want Pietro to know what kind of father you really are?" I laugh again, the sound hollow. "The great Connor O'Sullivan, who'd rather let his daughter die than admit he made a mistake trusting Declan Wilson."
My father's face flushes with anger. "You're my daughter. Being with a Sartori is the biggest betrayal I've ever faced since your mother."
I freeze. "What the hell are you talking about? What does Mom have to do with this?"
The question hangs in the air for just a moment before the sharp crack of a gunshot echoes through the room.
My father crumples, grabbing his foot as blood pools beneath him. He howls in pain, his men raising their weapons in response.
Another crack splits the air, then another. Both men drop to the floor behind Connor, blood pooling beneath them.
I can't breathe. Can't process what I'm seeing.
"Get down!" Pietro yanks me to the floor, his body covering mine as he aims his gun toward the door.
Uncle Finn steps into the room, lowering a smoking pistol. His face is carved from stone as he looks at my father writhing on the floor, clutching his bleeding foot.
"Take her the hell out of here, Sartori," Finn says, his voice eerily calm. His eyes never leave Connor. "And don't touch a single hair on her head until I get to talk to you."
Pietro's arm tightens around me. "What the fuck is going on?"
"She's innocent in all this," Finn continues as if Pietro hadn't spoken. "You have my word."
"Your word?" Pietro laughs, the sound harsh and cold against my ear. "The word of an O'Sullivan?"
"I'll explain everything." Finn finally looks at Pietro. "You have questions. I have answers."
"Two hours," Pietro says after moments in silence, pulling me to my feet while keeping his gun trained on Finn. "You have two hours before I make her disappear."
My mind spins, unable to grasp what's happening. Uncle Finn just shot my father. Killed his men. And now he's... helping Pietro?
"What's going on?" I whisper, my voice cracking. "Finn?"
But my uncle's attention is fixed on my father, who looks completely undone. Connor isn't yelling orders or making threats. He just stares at his brother, face pale with shock and something that looks disturbingly like fear.
Pietro's hand closes around my wrist, dragging me toward the door. I stumble, still clutching the towel around me.
"The clothes," I manage to say, pointing to the bag Finn brought earlier.
Pietro grabs it without letting go of me. As we reach the doorway, I hear Finn's voice behind us, low and venomous.
"This is on you, Connor. All of it. Everything that's happened to her, is because of you."
Pietro pulls me through the door, but I strain to hear more, desperate to understand.
Pietro shoves me into the hallway, blocking my view with his body as he backs out of the room, gun still raised.
"Move," he orders, pushing me toward the exit.
My legs feel disconnected from my body as I stumble forward. What the actual hell is going on with my family?
"Pietro," I gasp as we reach his car. "I don't understand—"
"Shut up." He opens the passenger door and practically throws me inside.
I clutch the bag of clothes to my chest as he slides into the driver's seat. His movements are precise, controlled, but I can see the fury vibrating beneath his skin.
"I didn't betray you," I whisper, unable to keep silent. "I swear I didn't."
"Two hours," he says, his voice deadly quiet. "Then we'll see what your uncle has to say."
He peels away from the motel, tires screeching on asphalt, leaving behind my father, my uncle, and whatever twisted family secrets they've been keeping from me my entire life.
PIETRO
I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, trying to make sense of what just happened. Nora sits beside me, clutching that damn towel like a shield, her hair still dripping water.
My mind races through a thousand possibilities at once. If Connor had planted her to spy on us, why would she accuse him of abandoning her? The pain in her voice when she confronted him sounded real. Too real to fake.
But if she wasn't working for her father, why the hell did she end up in my office? Out of all the places in Chicago, she just happened to apply for a job with her family's enemy?
I slam my palm against the steering wheel. "None of this makes any fucking sense."
Nora flinches beside me but says nothing. If she opens her mouth right now, I might lose what little control I have left.
I take a sharp turn, cutting off another driver who blares his horn. I don't care. My head is a battlefield of contradicting thoughts.
Her skills with the shipping manifests. Her ability to spot the discrepancies. Her composure when that Irish bastard held a gun to her head. All of it points to someone trained, someone planted.
But then I remember how she looked at me last night, the way she came apart in my arms, the vulnerability in her eyes when she whispered my name.
Was all of that a lie too?
"Pietro," she says quietly, "I can explain—"
"Don't." The word comes out like a gunshot. "Don't feed me more lies. I won't be able to see straight if you start talking."
She falls silent again, and I can feel her eyes on me. What a fucking joke.
I pull out my phone and dial Nico.
"Did you find her?" he answers immediately.
"I have her," I say, my voice cold. "I'm heading to warehouse one."
"Why the hell is she still breathing?" Nico demands, and something in his tone makes my blood boil.
"Shut the fuck up," I snarl, hanging up before he can say another word.
I toss the phone onto the dashboard, my thoughts still a chaotic mess. If Nora's been playing me this whole time, she deserves whatever's coming.
The memory of Finn shooting his own brother in the foot plays through my mind. Family turning on family. There's something bigger happening here, something I'm missing.
I glance at Nora, who stares straight ahead, her jaw set. Water drips from her hair onto her bare shoulders, making her shiver. Despite everything, I have the insane urge to wrap my jacket around her.
"Put your clothes on," I order instead, keeping my eyes on the road. "I'm not dragging you into the warehouse half-naked."
From the corner of my eye, I see her reach for the clothes at her feet. She hesitates, then looks at me.
"I'm not changing in the car with you watching," she says, her voice steadier than I expected.
I let out a harsh laugh. "After last night, you're suddenly modest?"
Her cheeks flush, but her eyes harden. "Pull over somewhere I can change."
"You don't get to make demands," I snap. "Two minutes."
I hear rustling as she digs through the bag, the soft sound of fabric sliding over skin. I keep my eyes fixed on the windshield, fighting the urge to look at her.
"I didn't betray you," she says quietly as she dresses. "I never gave my father any information about your shipments or your business."
I don't respond. I can't. Because right now, I don't know what to believe.
I pull into the warehouse lot. The massive structure looms ahead, windows blacked out, security cameras tracking our arrival. This place has seen more blood than most battlefields, and tonight might add more to its tally.
Nora sits beside me, dressed now in jeans and a simple t-shirt, her damp hair hanging around her shoulders.
"Get out," I order, killing the engine.
She complies without argument, which only pisses me off more. I want her to fight, to give me a reason to unleash the rage burning through my veins.
I grab her arm, my fingers digging into her skin as I march her toward the entrance. The metal door slides open.
Inside, the warehouse stretches out in shadowy vastness. Shipping containers line the walls, stacked three high in some places. The overhead lights cast harsh pools of brightness, leaving the spaces between in darkness.
Nico and Lorenzo stand in the center of the room, both turning as we enter. Lorenzo's face is grim, but Nico's eyes burn with the same fury I feel coursing through me.
"You actually brought her here?" Nico spits, stalking toward us. He pulls his gun, pointing it directly at Nora's head. "After what she did?"
"Touch her and I'll kill you," I say, my voice deadly calm as I take my gun and point it at him.
Nico freezes, his eyes widening in disbelief. Slowly, he turns the gun away from Nora and points it at me instead.
"You've lost your fucking mind," he says, his voice shaking with rage. "Because of what? A woman? Connor O'Sullivan's daughter?"
Lorenzo steps between us, his hands raised. "Enough! Both of you, put the guns down."
Neither of us moves. My finger hovers over the trigger, and I see the same murderous intent in Nico's eyes.
"Pietro," Lorenzo says."What does this even mean? She is Connor's fucking daughter. The man who's been hitting our shipments for months."