Chapter 16
Sixteen
Liam
If it’s not one thing, it’s another around here. I didn’t think the phone call between Bristol and her father would be that tense, but she certainly seemed nervous to tell him she wanted to transfer schools.
Me, I was ecstatic, because it means I’ll get to see more of her.
When Bristol ended the call, she seemed lighter, carefree, happier.
I wish I was entirely the reason. Is it selfish of me? Absolutely, but I want to always be able to make her happy.
Sophia, however, the sorrowful gaze my sister drops on me makes my stomach bottom out.
I really don’t want to take the call, but she hands me her cell phone, and I grumble before forcing a rough, “Hello?”
Sophia climbs onto my bed with us, scooting up against the wall, leaning back, pulling her knees to her chest. She rolls her lips together, nervous.
She mimics exactly how I feel.
It could be the twin bond, or maybe it’s just I don’t enjoy talking to my father, and Sophia shoving the phone at me makes me even more uncomfortable.
“Liam.” That tone tells me all I need to know. He’s pissed, and somehow, this is once again my fault.
“Father,” I say, avoiding Bristol’s stare as she turns around to face me. My legs are outstretched on the bed, and she sits between them, legs crisscrossed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Cut the crap with me, Liam. Did you know your sister is planning on dropping out of college?”
I glance at Sophia. “She only mentioned it this morning. It was news to me as well.”
He scoffs and clears his throat. “If you want to go to medical school after college, then I suggest you figure out a way to make sure that your sister graduates.”
“That’s not … I don’t control Sophia, Antonio.” I don’t call him Dad or Father, certainly not when he pisses me off. He wasn’t around when I was born. It wasn’t until preschool that he miraculously showed up in our lives.
Also, I have some strange memories of him when I was little that I can’t decipher if they’re real or just bad dreams, like the one of him kidnapping me.
It’s all a blur, but it’s a dream that I have far too often, especially when I’m stressed. I’ve never told Mom or Sophia about it; what would be the point?
“As I’ve already informed your sister, if she’s going to drop out of school, then she’ll come home and get married.”
I glance at Sophia, now understanding the look of shock on her face.
He intends to marry her off.
An arranged marriage.
“No,” I say, my mouth growing dry. “That’s not happening.”
Sophia should have a choice in who she weds. While I’m aware arranged marriages exist within the mafia, my parents were never an arranged marriage. Hell, they were the epitome of two quarreling families, but it’s always been a choice.
Why are they taking that choice from her?
“This isn’t meant as a punishment,” Antonio says. “Your sister needs stability. Without a college degree, what does she intend to do with her life?”
“I don’t know.”
“Precisely. She needs someone to take care of her. I can find her a man who will do that, put her desires and the needs of the mafia first.”
Neither of us ever wanted to be like our parents, serving or working for the mafia. While I’ve known there was a chance I’d come to work for Antonio, he’s never forced it on me.
It had always been my choice.
He encouraged me to go to college, explore medicine, and decide what I want to do with my career. A part of me suspects that he wants me to come crawling back to work for him, but it isn’t what I intend to do.
There’s no malice toward Antonio.
He’s taken care of my sister and me. When he realized we were his children, he provided for us, sending us to private school, giving us anything and everything we could ask for.
But his money is covered in blood.
It’s why I want to go into medicine.
I want to do good.
To right his wrongs.
Not directly, of course, but I want to help people. Sure, there are all sorts of ways to do that, but I could never think about putting him behind bars. He is family. And family always comes first.
My mother, Aleksandra, taught me that. She comes from her own brutal family, with bloodlines and ties to the Russian Bratva. Her brother, Mikhail, runs the organization out of New York.
She’s never mentioned him to me, but through the years, I’ve heard stories from Father’s men, learned things that I shouldn’t be privy to.
She’s as cutthroat as my father but hides behind her smile and good looks. No one would ever think her deadly.
She wasn’t always that way. My father hardened her, taught her that to be able to protect us, she’d have to be ruthless.
My twin doesn’t have a cruel bone in her body. And I seriously doubt she could love someone who is a killer.
I carefully word my next thoughts, not to make demands.
He doesn’t take well to orders being given to him.
“Sophia can stay in Montana, crash on the sofa here until she finds work.” There are two sets of eyes on me as I stand and glance out the window.
I need somewhere else to look, someplace peaceful and serene.
With Bristol and Sophia staring down my neck for me to do something, the room is suffocating. At least a glimpse into the outside world makes sense. The trees pepper the yard, and that’s the only bit of tranquility I get before I’m forced to deal with whatever he tasks me with.
“There is an alternative, I suppose.”
Relief rushes through me, and I chance a glance at Sophia until I hear his wicked words. “Your sister needs some experience, and I want you watching over her.”
“Excuse me?” I’m not entirely sure what he’s implying, but nausea creeps over me as I fall into the desk chair, needing to sit.
I can feel the weight of his suggestion before he lays it all out on the table.
It’s heavy.
Thick.
The air is wrought with tension.
And this idea he’s surmised is nearly as bad as the first he suggested.
“Sophia will work for Dante, you both will, or she’s to return to New York and get married at once. Which I know she’ll hate. She’s already made that abundantly clear on our call. I will reach out to Dante after we end this call.”
My mouth drops. “I have a full workload this semester, in addition to my hockey responsibilities with the team. I don’t have time for what you’re asking.”
“I’m not asking.”
My eyes shut and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Of course, he’s not asking. He never asks. He demands.
“And if I say no?”
I huff under my breath and glance briefly at Bristol. Thank God she can’t hear this conversation because she has no idea about Dante or the family.
“You won’t, because you’ve always taken care of your sister, protected her. If you say no, she’ll return to New York at once and walk down the aisle with a man of my choosing. One who will take care of her.”
“Don’t you think she’s been through enough right now?” I stand and open the bedroom door, gesturing for Bristol and Sophia to exit. I have a few choice words to say to my father that I don’t want either of them hearing. Mostly Bristol, but Sophia can follow her out.
“She’s chosen to drop out of college,” he says, unpleased.
Bristol’s brow pinches, but she stands, quietly heading out of my bedroom. Sophia follows, and I snap the door shut behind them.
“Did you not hear about the shooting at Great Falls, or do you just not care?” I snap. “Sophia was hiding, scared, alone, thinking she might die. Do you know who she reached out to when it happened? Me!”
“Which is precisely why I need you looking out for your sister, making sure she doesn’t get herself killed working for Dante. It’s a dangerous business. But if she refuses to marry, I don’t see another way.”
I shake my head. “This is absurd! You can’t expect me to work full-time while going to classes and playing hockey?”
He sighs and I can hear his disdain in his tone. “I forgot about your hockey scholarship.”
“Yes, the thing that pays my tuition,” I grind between clenched teeth.
He laughs under his breath. “Of course. Let me call Dante, see what we can work up.”
“Please don’t.”
He doesn’t listen to me. Antonio never heeds my advice. After all, to him, I’m still a child. At least, that’s how he treats me.
He ends the call without so much as a goodbye, and I toss the phone onto the bed. “Fuck!” I run my hands through my hair, tugging at the tendrils, frustration tearing me apart inside and out.
There’s a soft wrap at the door. “Go away!” I shout.
Eventually, I stalk out into the living room, hand Sophia back her phone and collapse into the beanbag chair on the floor.
I need to be alone, but I know both Sophia and Bristol are concerned right now. Probably more so Bristol, because she doesn’t have the slightest clue what is going on or why I’m so damn moody.
Bristol stands from the sofa and comes around the coffee table, sitting next to me on the floor. She wraps her arms around me, doesn’t say a word, and rests her head on my arm.
Sophia breaks the silence. She’s seated on the couch, hands clasped together, leaning forward, eyes on me. “I’m sorry,” she says, staring at me.
Two apologies in one day.
First Bristol, now Sophia.
I’m silent, and Sophia continues speaking when she realizes I don’t have anything to say.
“I don’t want to go back to New York.