Chapter 49 – Alessandro
T he Greenbriar family was staying in the penthouse suite of the Grand Inn. As I walked to the door, I felt confident with my rehearsed speech, which I’d spent the flight to Rochester, Minnesota preparing. It was perfect. It highlighted what had gone wrong and presented the case for our future together. The moment I convinced her to see me alone, I would lay my heart out to her. But first, there was likely to be resistance. With her family present, it would be tricky to force a moment alone.
How had she explained my existence to them?
If she’d even done that….
It didn’t matter. I was here to talk to my wife. Not even her family could stop me.
Raising my fist, I rapped on the door. The blood in my veins pulsed rapidly. Air came in short bursts, not quite filling my lungs. A myriad of scenes played out in my mind.
I was prepared for any of them.
The door swung open, and I found myself face-to-face with a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair. He could be the postcard model for a Western rancher. From the hat on his head to the dusty boots on his feet, he reminded me of when I first met Penelope. His physique was rugged and sinewy, a testament to years of toil under the relentless sun, and his eyes bore the steely resolve of a man shaped by a life of grit and endurance. A hard life made for hard men.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Her father. It had to be. I’d never met him, never seen photos. Penelope had kept that part of her life walled off from me, a fortress I wasn’t permitted to breach.
Just as I’d done with parts of mine.
That stopped today.
“I’m here to see Penelope,” I said, scanning the room behind him which seemed empty.
His expression shifted, hardened. “And you are?”
The question hung between us. What was I? Lover? Captor? The man she’d fled from?
“Alessandro,” I said simply. “Her husband.”
The word landed like a grenade. His eyebrows shot up, and he sucked in a low breath that whistled. His body stayed tight to the door, but he made no move to slam it in my face.
“You best come in, young man. You’ve got a bit of explaining to do,” he drawled.
“Thank you, sir.” I stepped inside—
And froze.
The cold steel of a barrel pressed against my skin with a chilling threat that was impossible to ignore. I had to hand it to the old man, few were crafty enough to draw a weapon on me.
They never lived to brag over the feat.
“In the middle of the room.” The door slammed closed. “Hands up where I can see them.”
I obeyed. “My weapon is in my waistband.”
“Hmm,” her father grunted.
Once I was disarmed, he walked around to face me.
“Mr. Greenbriar, I came here to apologize to Penelope.”
The rancher waved his pistol in the air. “First, you owe me an apology. If I like it, I’ll think about letting you speak to Penny.”
The rush of surprise was quickly replaced with respect. This was a good man…which meant he was dangerous. The best always were. His violence was held by a tight leash, but I had no illusions it would break free if I pissed him off. And clearly Penelope had said something, because I was skating on thin ice here.
“Tell me, sir, how have I wronged you?” I asked pointedly. The sooner we cut to the chase, the sooner I could find my wife.
The rancher’s weathered face cracked into a humorless smile. “You married my daughter without so much as asking for my blessing. That’s strike one.” He circled me slowly, the gun never wavering. “Strike two is whatever you did that sent her running back to us with those haunted eyes. And strike three—” He paused, studying me with a gaze that cut like a knife. “—is showing up here unannounced like you own her.”
I kept my hands visible, steady. “Fair points, sir. But there’s more to the story than what Penelope has told you.”
“Oh, I’m sure there is.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “There always is with men like you.”
“Men like me?” Did he know?
“I’ve been around long enough to know your type. Expensive suit, that watch.” He gestured with the barrel toward my wrist. “And the scar on your palm. A Made Man. You reek of violent sins.”
“I saved your headstrong daughter from a worse fate,” I started.
But he cut me off by pulling back the hammer of the pistol. “I doubt she sees you as the hero in this story.”
“I told her from the beginning that I was the villain. I don’t hide behind illusions, sir.”
The rancher circled me slowly, his boots making soft thuds against the plush hotel carpet. The gun never wavered.
“Her mother ran from that world. I kept her safe.” When he stepped back in my line of sight, a haunted look consumed his face. “Keeping my family away from those demons has been my biggest accomplishment. And yet, in a twist of fate, it’s come undone. I failed, and my oldest daughter fell into the den of vipers.”
“Penelope is strong. She faced those vipers and bargained without fear. I took her away when her uncle played her dirty.”
The rancher spat on the carpet, showing that maybe he wasn’t quite tamed. “That pig has been nothing but trouble since he came squealing out of his mother.”
A genuine smile curled my lips. “And I fully intend to make him squeal once more before he journeys to meet her.”
That statement didn’t amuse the father. “And what makes you think I shouldn’t do the same to you?”
I saw myself in his eyes. That fate was something I earned. There was no hiding from the truth. “It would be your fatherly right.”
He pointed the gun point blank at my chest. “I ought to shoot you right here. It’s what you deserve.”
“It is,” I conceded, my voice steady.
“But I won’t.” He inhaled deeply, the air hissing through his teeth, before gently releasing the hammer and sliding the gun back into its holster with a swift, controlled motion. “Because it would devastate my girl, and she’s suffered enough.”
A spark of hope ignited in my chest.
“I’m here to set things right, Mr. Greenbriar. I'll move heaven and earth to prove that to both you and Penelope.”
“It’s her you need to convince, boy.” The rancher yanked off his hat, swiping sweat from his forehead before jamming it back on. “Let’s go. She's at the hospital with her mom and brothers.”
But I stepped in front of him. “I am sorry that I didn’t ask you, sir.”
He narrowed his eyes. “With any luck, you have plenty of time to make it up to me.” He stuck out his hand. “The name’s David.”
I took his hand, feeling the calluses that spoke of a man who'd worked the land his entire life. His grip was firm—a warning and an acknowledgment all at once.
This was not a man to be trifled with.
“Alessandro Mancini.”
His eyes flickered with recognition. “Mancini—a Chicago family. I should’ve known.” He released my hand with a sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep and old. “Penny never mentioned your family name.”
My little consigliere. She kept my secrets from her own father. The woman was a fucking treasure, and it was time I won that back. If only the prospect wasn’t filled with uncertainty and doubt.
I’ll let you sting me as many times as it takes, little wasp . I would take every barb as a trophy that earned the right to rule at her side.