Chapter 8
Eight
Luca
Friday night, I drive over to my parents’ house as planned. We have dinner, all of us, including Moreno, Paige, and Nova tonight.
I’m glad to have Nova around, because she’s at least someone under this roof I can trust and count on.
Although she won’t be living here for much longer, which is both a relief and a regret. I’m glad she’s coming to EU. I’m not thrilled that she’ll be moving in with us, because I don’t want any of the guys getting any lurid ideas about my sister.
She’s off-limits.
I’ve made it clear that no one touches her, but it was also because she was seventeen and in high school.
Nova is eighteen now, and she starts college in a couple of weeks. It’s going to be hard chasing all the boys away from her.
But maybe Harper can help me with that too. Somehow, between her time with Zeke and studying, she can chase the guys away from Nova.
Or maybe just having a baby around the house will chase them away. I mean, who wants the constant reminder of what can happen if you’re not playing it safe?
After dinner, Dante corners me in the hallway, alone. “We’ll start first thing in the morning with your training,” he says.
I have no idea what that will entail. Being stuck with Dante for the weekend, doing whatever dirty job he requires of me is not something I’m looking forward to.
But I know what I signed up for, and I swallow the seeds of doubt and get on with it.
“Fine,” I say, surprised he’s not making me start this evening, but I’m not about to question his motives. I know better than to piss him off.
“Where’s your fiancée?” Dante asks, and I’m quite confident he’s not asking because he cares.
Unless you count him caring for his mafia family, but it’s not out of any sense of kindness.
“Harper is on campus for the weekend,” I say, leaving out the part where she’s hanging out with her best friend Kensley.
“She’s not spending the weekend with her son?” Dante seems disappointed.
“Her parents aren’t speaking to her at the moment.”
“How unfortunate,” he says, but I don’t see any remorse on his face for his involvement in this mess.
I lean against the wall, fold my arms across my chest and glare at him. “Right, coming from the man who insisted we tell her parents about our engagement over a dinner here,” I seethe. I’m not the least bit happy about my father pulling all the strings.
It seems I have zero control over the situation, in part my own doing by trying to save Harper.
Would I do it all over again?
Absolutely.
“Speaking of the engagement. Your mother and I were talking, and we insist that you both have the wedding here, under our roof. We’ll pay for everything. Your mother is happy to handle the wedding plans since you both are in school and Harper is, I’m sure, busy with her son.”
“You’re not serious.” I stare at him like he just suggested decimating an entire population.
“I don’t think February is too soon,” Dante says. “We’ll let you pick the date.”
How fricking generous of him to let us choose our own wedding date. “Great,” I grumble.
When the conversation is done, I head toward the library, finding Nova curled on the sofa reading under the lamplight.
“Have enough room for two?” I ask.
She holds up a finger, finishes her page and then slides a bookmark to keep her place. Nova keeps her voice low and quiet. “Have you heard anything about Rhys?”
“Your bodyguard? No, why?”
“I haven’t seen him since my birthday party,” Nova says. “He won’t answer his phone when I call him. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Caden hasn’t been around either,” I point out. But we both know why he isn’t under my father’s roof anymore.
He was murdered.
“So, you do think something happened to Rhys!” Her eyes widen and then she covers her mouth, realizing that we have to talk quieter or take this conversation some place else if we don’t want anyone to eavesdrop.
The last time we snuck into the hall closet, we got caught. At least out in the open, we’re less suspicious, just two siblings hanging out together.
“I don’t know, Nova. Maybe he has another assignment that’s keeping him off the compound for a while. Did you ask your father about it?”
“Yeah, he told me to stop asking questions and then he assigned Nico as my personal security detail. Not that Nico does much. Since Mom and Dad gave me a car, I don’t have to depend on one of their goons to drive me around town. Sometimes he comes with me, but he’s not very friendly.”
“Well, when you get to college, Nico won’t be around,” I say.
“Why do you think I pushed so hard for graduating early?” Nova smirks. “Rhys was awesome. He kept the fact I’ve been visiting you guys a secret. But he warned me that Dad’s been asking questions and now that Nico is my new shadow for hire, he reports everything to my dad.”
“Moreno knows that you were at our house Thursday and Friday?” I ask.
“Yes, I told Dad I wanted to watch the Narwhals game against the Wolverines and that it’d be late coming home, so I’d rather crash on your couch. I didn’t have school on Friday, so he was fine with it since you were there.”
“Any word on the little boy?” I ask, glancing in the direction of the basement.
“He’s already been moved. Dad sent Mom and me out on an afternoon spending spree, which is so unlike him, unless he’s up to no good.
Did you see the news? They reported the kid dead, along with his family.
Showed his photo for a good two minutes on the nightly news after the explosion leveled their home. ”
I curse and rub the back of my neck. “Any word on the investigation?”
It’s obvious that my father was involved.
Nova stands and puts the book that she’d been reading back on the shelf. “Nothing, but we know the little boy is alive, Rylan Matthews.”
“It’s all so fucked up,” I mutter, watching as Nova paces the length of the library.
“You have to stop him,” Nova says, her gaze pleading with me to do something.
She’s not the only one unhappy under this roof. I’m well aware that Harper is frustrated by my father, turns out Nova is as well, and so am I.
But I can’t stop him. I can’t go up against Dante when he has an army behind him.
“How do you think that’s going to happen?” I tilt my head back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling.
“He’s making you work for him, do something.”
Nova makes it sound so easy, like I could just put a gun to Dante’s head, pull the trigger, and make all the horrible acts he’s done vanish.
Life isn’t that simple; neither is stopping the mafia boss.
The next morning after breakfast, I hear soft footsteps while I sip my coffee and glance up.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, my gaze tightening on Ashton.
Dante closes the distance behind Ashton, apparently hearing my question. “I invited him,” my father says.
“Why?” I put my coffee mug down, my appetite sated.
“Ashton is doing an internship for my organization,” Dante says proudly. I imagine he’s the son Dante always wanted, not me.
“Of course, he is,” I mutter, glancing at Ashton, wondering how long they’ve been working together.
“He’s going to help train you, get you up to speed on your shooting skills at the firing range this morning.”
My shooting skills are zilch since I’ve never handled a gun, not after witnessing my father use one to commit murder.
“Can’t we just train in the gym with weights or in hand-to-hand combat?” I’m one hell of a fighter. It helps that I play hockey; I’m used to getting roughed up and dishing it back out.
“No,” Dante says. “You need to get over your fear and learn to fucking shoot a target.”
He turns and decides that he’s done as he walks away, leaving Ashton and me alone in the hallway.
“Scared to hold a gun?” Ashton is smirking at me, and I throw up my middle finger at him.
“Hardly, I’ve just never seen the need.” I gesture to the compound around me. “I’ve got enough men doing my father’s bidding. I don’t need to be one of them.”
Ashton steps closer and stares at me. “Turns out you do, since you work for him now.”
I bite my tongue.
If Ashton is working for Dante, then anything I say or gripe about is bound to get repeated.
My best friend betrayed me, at least that’s how it feels, and next time we’re on the ice, I fully intend to return a little blood for blood.
We head to the shooting range and gear up.
I swallow the bile that rises in my throat.
Of course, my father would demand that I learn to shoot. He had tried during my teen years to invite me to the shooting range with him, but I always made up some excuse about school, homework, or hockey practice.
Dante is a smart man. He knew I wasn’t interested, but he kept pushing.
Turns out, he wins.
I know the basics of how to hold a gun, using two hands, what the different parts of the gun are called. The thing is, though I’ve played shooter games on my console, I haven’t picked up an actual gun, nor have I wanted to in the past decade.
Ashton gets me set up with a 9mm. He explains how it has a higher amount of muzzle energy, making it more effective at longer distances.
The weight of the gun is heavier than I imagined, and as I stare down the sight, there’s no red dot or laser to guide my aim.
I already know my firing is going to be an embarrassment because I’ve never stepped foot in a shooting range.
But here I am.
It could be worse.
Dante could be teaching me.
Instead, I have Ashton, who shows me all the basics, which I already fucking know, thank you very much, and then he shoots and aims to kill.
He hits the target with a precision that makes my stomach roil.
Every shot hits the chest, dead center.
I turn off the safety, line up the sight with the target and shoot.
I hit the edge of the border of the paper, which at least is something. The gun has more of a recoil than I anticipated. Playing video games doesn’t exactly get you prepared for the real thing.
“Again,” Ashton commands, but I barely hear him over the headphones that I’m required to wear.