2. Dario
2
Dario
T hea had left. My gut told me she’d gone back to Italy to find and kill her father. Until Francesco was dead, she and Verity would never be safe. It’s what I would have done.
The news she was pregnant had taken us all by surprise. Kyril seemed to think it was his, which meant he’d been raging ever since Michael showed up with a pregnancy test in his hand. Once Michael realized he’d misconstrued the situation, he soon ran off.
Eden had stayed, though. That girl had no self-preservation instincts whatsoever.
“How is it my fault?” she yelled, unhappy at being blamed for Thea’s disappearing act.
“Because you should have warned us she thought she might be pregnant!” Kyril roared back.
Eden folded her arms and tapped her foot on the floor, a pissed off expression firmly in place.
“Why would I do that? There’s a reason she didn’t want any of you to know.” She threw a scathing glare at him. “And I’m looking at him!” Then she sighed. “And besides, she told me it was negative, which, for the record, I believed.” From the wounded look on her face, she was hurt Thea had lied to her.
Cassian groaned, like he had the world’s worst migraine. I could relate. My head still throbbed. The vicious hangover squeezing my brain had not abated one bit.
“She needs us,” Landon blurted, while pacing back and forth. He looked almost as shit as I felt, which wasn’t saying much.
Eden snorted. “She needs you dickheads like she needs a lobotomy.”
As much as I hated to agree with the pink witch, she was right. Thea didn’t need them, me, or anyone. She never had.
“Thea will be back. She wouldn’t abandon Verity for long,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, she promised she’d be back in a few days,” Eden agreed. “Didn’t she leave a note?”
“No.” Milo was the calmest of us all. Nothing phased that robot. Did he even have emotions? It was hard to tell sometimes.
My emotions terrified me. For years, I’d buried them deep inside because it was easier not to feel while slowly and systematically destroying my life, one piece at a time. But since I discovered everything I believed was wrong, all my buried emotions had resurfaced.
Dad had been right all along. He told me the video was fake. How I wished I’d believed him.
I knew he’d held out hope we would reconnect. He’d smiled when I told him Francesco wanted me to go to Scotland to watch Thea.
Speaking of…
Francesco had messaged me last night, asking for an update. He thought I was trying to track down Thea. He’d told me to check in with one of his hackers to see if there was any trace of her. I’d messaged the guy but thankfully, he had nothing.
I was supposed to call Francesco yesterday but had forgotten. He was probably losing his shit. In fact, I was amazed he hadn’t sent Torrance after me.
Nobody took any notice when I slipped out of the apartment. I took the elevator down to the lobby and stepped outside. The guards at the door threw me suspicious looks but said nothing. There was no sign of Declan or his brothers. Like us, they were probably nursing hangovers.
The party in the club had been pretty wild. The Irish loved to drink and dance, it seemed.
I frowned when I saw a missed call from my father. I’d spoken to him yesterday, and he seemed fine, so why was he calling now?
“Papa. Everything OK?”
“ Figlio , good to hear from you. Are you well?” ‘Well’ was code for ‘safe’. We both knew Francesco wasn’t above monitoring our communications.
“I’m well, Papa. And you?”
“Not so much. I’m feeling most unwell today.”
Fuck. He’d mentioned last week that he thought Francesco had put a tail on him. I’d hoped he was wrong, but it seemed not.
“Maybe you need to go see a doctor, papa. Tell him your symptoms and see if there’s anything he can do to get rid of the infection.” By which I meant contact the DIA and hand over all the evidence he’d accumulated, so they could arrest and imprison Francesco once and for all.
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“I might spread the infection.” I sighed. It was the same old argument. Papa was worried that if he became an informant, the DIA would arrest me, or Francesco would put a hit out on me.
“Maybe I should visit the doctor with you. I could come stay with you for a while.” Perhaps it was time to do what my papa had wanted me to do for years. I knew plenty about Francesco’s operation. While Dad had access to all the financial data, I could give the DIA all the info they needed on Francesco’s drug trafficking routes, the names of several corrupt officials, and more.
“No, I’d rather you didn’t. That girl of yours needs you.” Thea .
“She doesn’t need me,” I muttered, shivering as a gust of wind hit me.
Dammit, this country was too fucking cold. I needed some sun on my face. The scent of lemon groves and freshly cooked pasta with basil and Parmesan. The food they served here was too stodgy. Way too many potatoes for my liking. And cabbage. Grim.
“She does, f iglio. She’s always needed you,” he reminded me.
“Nah. Besides, she’s left me. Disappeared last night. Think she’s gone to visit her family.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“Yes, we’ve been talking.” I didn’t know Thea had kept in touch with my father.
Cazzo . If Francesco knew Papa and Thea were close, it would be the final nail in his coffin. He would view any illicit communication between them as a betrayal.
“Please make sure you reconsider going to see the doctor. I’m worried about you, old man.”
“Eh, I’ll be fine, figlio . I have people I trust to take care of me.”
“OK, well, I have to go. I need to call the boss and give him an update on our missing package.”
“No sign of it?” The amusement in Papa’s voice was unmistakable.
“Not so far.” And there never would be if I had anything to do with it.