Chapter 14
Fourteen
Nova
It’s impossible to live under the roof of the mafia and not have an inkling of what’s going on. You’d have to be absolutely stupid.
I’ve lived in this same house all my life, or at least all that I can remember.
My mother died when I was a child, the memories still vivid, but with flashes of blood that blur the lines of reality encased in trauma.
Years of therapy when I was a kid helped me unpack some of it, but of course, the therapist wasn’t your average shrink.
She worked for my father, Moreno Ricci.
Trust is one of those things that, once it begins to crumble, can never be perfectly whole again. And while I trust my father, I don’t trust him implicitly.
I know he does bad things.
He’s not a good man, but he’s been good to me.
He brought Paige into my life; my stepmother, who helped me through the losses and made me realize that my father isn’t a monster, he’s just a man.
Which makes it easier for me to stand up to him, even if it’s foolish and stupid.
“I can’t believe you!” I seethe, practically growling at him.
I made sure no one else is around when I would begin my own interrogation.
He stands there, staring at me, waiting for me to elaborate.
“You sound just like your mother,” he says, his tone soft, but it strikes a chord within me, and I suspect it does him as well.
I don’t ask if he means my stepmom Paige or my biological mother, whom I barely remember. The only memories I carry of her are the gruesome ones of her murder.
“That’s not fair,” I say. He’s trying to disarm me emotionally. I’m not some little kid who runs around this place with their head in the clouds.
I see what’s happening, and I know far more than I let on. I’ve also learned silence keeps me out of trouble. One reason I was mute as a little girl. If I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t be harmed.
At least, I held that belief strongly until I realized my father would do anything to protect me, to protect the family.
Dad works for Dante. He takes orders, always obeys; it’s what makes him a great second in command. And if something happened to Dante, Dad would probably fill the role.
Which would be fine. I’m not rooting for Dante to kick the bucket, but I also hold no disrespect for my father. I know who he is. I learned it at a young age, so young that I don’t remember a time before.
To me, he’s always been mafia, before I even knew what the mafia itself was or meant.
Dad looks at me with curious eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s waiting for me to speak or to walk away. I’m sure he’s silently praying that I’ll walk away, but that’s not the daughter Paige raised.
“Since when are you in the business of kidnapping children?” It’s like steam is emanating from my body, and I can’t stop myself from demanding an answer.
His eyes warn me to be silent, but I can’t just back down when I’ve heard there’s a little boy being held against his will. “Nova.” His tone is all he needs with the use of my name, and he’s telling me to back down.
No, I won’t.
I open my mouth, and he grabs me by the arm and drags me into the cellar.
“Oh, fuck no,” I mutter, trying to break free. “What the hell?” I can’t believe my own father would betray me.
“Quiet, or you’ll get us both killed,” he grits between clenched teeth. We hover on the stairs and he stalks down, making sure there are no guards in the basement. There’s no need with the prison cell locked tight.
My eyes widen when I see the child, and my heart physically aches for him. “You’re a fucking monster!”
“Language!” Dad isn’t pleased with my words, and well, I’m not the least bit pleased by his actions.
“You’re worried about my language? How could you kidnap a child?” I gesture to the boy in the basement.
“We’re not kidnapping per se.”
“Are you trying to rationalize what you’ve done?” I can’t believe him. I tug away from his grasp, not trusting that he won’t throw me behind bars next. For knowing too much, for saying something, for disobeying him, the reasons are endless.
He’s mafia, and I’m just the daughter of the second in command.
I’m a no one to them, but I suspect if something happened to me, Paige would never forgive him. That’s the one thing I do have going for me. My stepmom loves me as much as she loves him.
“I don’t answer to you,” Dad says.
“Please, help me.” The little boy behind bars steps forward into the light.
The area is dimly lit, but it’s clear he’s still wearing his pajamas.
“Did you kidnap him from his bed?” I’m appalled and disgusted.
“We’re just protecting the family,” Dad says.
He doesn’t flinch, but I know my father.
He’d never hurt a child, but he would exact revenge for a child who’s been harmed.
I stare at the little boy, wondering if someone harmed him, but if they did, why would Dante have ordered the child withdrawn from his home and locked in a cage?
“Right, because this kid is a solid threat to the foundation of your organization.”
“His father is, Nova, and that’s all you need to know.”
“Tell me how,” I say, staring at him, begging for his help. “You can’t just leave the kid in here forever, and what’s your plan after you’ve what—axed his father?”
“I don’t owe you answers.”
“You owe me for Mom’s death.” I stare at him callously.
His eyes glaze over with anger or sadness; I’m not quite sure. “That’s enough, Nova. Just know we’re doing what is necessary to protect children.” It’s with such certainty in his voice, his conviction that he believes he’s doing right.
“How long until he’s released?” I ask. “You can’t keep him locked up, and I swear if you have any intention to harm a hair on that child’s head—”
Dad smiles at me. “You’ll what?” He tilts his head, amused by my threats. “I never thought I’d say this, but you might actually join the family business someday.”
“Over my dead body,” I scoff at his suggestion.
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Nova, you would actually be pleased with our mission.”
“Kidnapping a child?” I shake my head and stalk closer to the prison cell. “Are you okay? Do you need food, water, a blanket?” I ask, ignoring my own flesh and blood.
“He’s fine,” Dad shouts at me.
The little boy shrugs.
“What’s your name?”
Dad’s voice reverberates through the prison cell. “Tell her, and I’ll kill you myself.”
The child slinks back to the corner of the cell.
“You’re a monster,” I growl at Dad and begin to stomp up the stairs.
He grabs me by the arm, yanking me back down the two stairs that I’ve made it up. “And you’re going to get us both killed if they know I’ve said anything to you. Do you have a death wish?”
“I’m not afraid of dying,” I say, staring him cold in the eyes. “I stopped being afraid when I watched my loved ones die in front of me.”
He exhales sharply. “I’m sorry you witnessed that, Nova.”
Dad steps closer, his hand reaching out to touch me, and I balk, keeping out of his reach. It’s not that I’d usually believe he’d hurt me, it’s that he has a child imprisoned, and I’m beginning to wonder if I really know my father at all.