Chapter 31
31
LUCA
A t first, I didn’t even recognize the sodden, broken wreck as my Celia. Her hair was plastered to her head, her face swollen and blotchy.
They dropped her on the ground of the cell.
The one who had held the gun on Dante turned back in the doorway, his gaze malevolent as he snarled, “Gabriel will never want you now.”
Celia just lay there on the floor, still drawing long, shuddering breaths. He stared at her, then gave a disgusted snort and turned away.
Slowly she formed her fist. Her middle finger stuck out.
He was already on his way out, so he didn’t see it. I scrambled for her, trying to put my body between her and him. I didn’t want him to come back and hurt her.
“Celia,” Dante choked out, sounding wild with emotion himself.
When the door closed, Dante drew her into his arms. He held her in his lap, rocking her back and forth. Her hand fisted in his t-shirt, and I could see that she was soaking the fabric with her tears.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, raising her tear-streaked face. She caught a glimpse of me and then she turned back into Dante. “It was just…it was horrible. Nothing could have prepared me for…”
She trailed off. Dante’s arms tightened around her. The look on his face was murderous, but he was so tender as he held her and stroked her hair.
I hated seeing her in so much pain. I moved toward her and gently smoothed her hair back. She looked up at me, her eyes swollen. So quietly that it couldn’t have been picked up by anyone listening, she almost mouthed, “I know it doesn’t look like it…but I was strong.”
“I know you were strong, starlight. You’re always strong.”
She was hiding her face against Dante’s chest again, and I touched her, wanting to comfort her too.
“Don’t look at me right now, Luca,” she said softly.
Pain spiked through my chest.
She’d been so eager to tell me that she was strong because she thought I didn’t see her that way when she cried. Because after all, I had been so cruel to her every time that I’d seen her cry.
How much had I hurt this perfect, incredible woman?
“Starlight, I’m sorry,” I whispered. My own voice was thick with emotion. “You’re still beautiful when you cry. You’re still strong. Nothing changes that.”
She raised her blotchy face again. Her makeup had been almost entirely washed away except for some dark smudges of mascara under her eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me, Luca. I know that I’m ugly when I cry.”
“You’re beautiful to me.” I touched her face gently, skimming my fingers over the blotches on her usually soft, perfectly smooth skin. “Celia. There is no version of you that I don’t love. That I don’t admire.”
“Though he might not deserve any version of you,” Dante muttered, and I couldn’t tell if he was making a joke or not.
“You can cry with me, starlight.” I held my arms out, longing for her body against mine. “I would never be a jerk like I was again.”
“About that particular topic,” Dante added.
When were they going to take this shithead for interrogation ?
But I didn’t mean it. I just resented the unrelenting mirror Dante held up to the ways I’d failed her. I hated myself for making her feel like she was unworthy when she cried. I should’ve been her safe place.
“I’ll never fail you again.” My voice came out low, determined. Emotional.
Dante looked away, giving us what space he could, even with her in his arms.
Celia slowly unwound herself from Dante’s arms. She looked at me as if she couldn’t quite believe it.
When I kept holding my arms out, she crawled into my lap and sagged against my chest, resting her head against my shoulder.
As formidable as she was, she looked so small and weak just then.
And I felt honored to see this side of her as I wrapped my arms around her.
CELIA
I still felt like I could barely walk when my father’s men opened the doors again. They held their guns trained on us all as they forced us to get up.
They made me put the handcuffs on Luca and Dante. Luca winked at me. I lingered over the cuffs, touching his hand tenderly before one of them moved past me to test the cuffs.
“Let’s go,” Vincent said, grabbing my hair. I gritted my teeth. Pulling my hair was really Luca’s domain—and I much preferred the way he did it—and I wished Vincent would stop. As Vincent dragged me along with him, he said, “Your father requested your company. He wants you to see what happens to rebellious girls and their plans. You can watch it all fall apart.”
He leaned in close. “And after this…the three of you are presents for Gabriel. I don’t think he’s going to like the way he gets his gifts.”
My heart was rioting in my chest. Hopefully this all worked out the way we intended. We’d had a plan before everything went sideways at Kara’s party, but had Gabriel picked up the threads and understood what I was attempting? Had he predicted what we would do?
I had to hope Gabriel had given me enough credit to believe I’d follow through on the plan I’d suggested when I’d offered to go to my father. I’d certainly found the most convincing way to make my father listen to me. The most painful way.
The city lights blurred into streaks of neon through the rain-streaked windows as Vincent drove us through the empty streets. The leather seats of the SUV felt cold and slick against my wet clothes. I shivered so hard my muscles ached.
My father sat beside me, his attention on his phone. In another row, Luca and Dante sat rigidly between two armed guards, their hands still bound.
My throat was raw from the waterboarding, each jagged breath a reminder of what they’d done to me. But I kept my face carefully blank as I watched raindrops race down the window. Everything hinged on what happened next.
“You understand what happens if she tries anything?” my father asked the guards holding Luca and Dante.
“Yes, sir. One bullet each, right through the head.” Vincent seemed as gleeful as ever.
You punch some men a little and they never get over it. Not like Luca, who’d had an amused perspective on my fighting. The memory of Luca’s pride and Dante’s warmth gave me strength now. I would have to fight to keep them alive even harder than I’d once fought to escape.
Dante’s jaw was clenched. Luca’s eyes met mine in the reflection of the window, and I raised my chin defiantly, the way I had as Luca and I faced each other so many times. He winked back at me.
We pulled into a high-rise office building overlooking the warehouse district. On our way up, the fluorescent lights in the elevator made me look even more wrecked. In the mirror, I saw pale skin, dark circles under my eyes, wet hair plastered to my head. My father gestured for me to follow him to the glass wall. The guards shoved Luca and Dante to their knees a few feet behind us.
“Watch carefully, Celia,” my father said, gripping my shoulder hard enough to bruise. “This is what happens to traitors. Your husband’s men are about to walk right into our trap.”
I saw the dark shapes of vehicles moving into position below, their headlights cutting through the rain. My father’s men, ready to intercept what they thought would be Gabriel’s attack on the Harrow family. But those weren’t Gabriel’s men they were about to encounter.
My stomach twisted as I spotted familiar figures moving in the shadows. Was that Kara’s stepbrother? The metal taste of fear filled my mouth. If any of them died because of this plan, we were fucked. We’d better hope that the other families couldn’t tie this ambush back to us.
Behind me, I heard Luca shift slightly. He could read the tension in my shoulders, knew something was wrong. One of the guards cocked his gun in warning.
“There,” my father said with satisfaction as gunfire shattered the night. The sound was muffled by the thick walls, but I could feel each burst in my chest. “Gabriel was a fool to think he could move against me so openly.”
But then something changed in his expression. He stepped closer to the glass, squinting into the darkness. “That’s…that can’t be right.”
I knew what he was seeing. Not Gabriel’s men attacking the Harrow family, but Harrow’s own people, suddenly encountering my father’s armed men who was obviously prepared for battle. There were shouts of alarm from below as the Harrow family reacted, and my father’s men opened fire on them.
“Vincent!” he barked. “Get them on the radio. Tell them to stand down?—”
More gunfire. The flash of muzzles lit up the rain like lightning. Even from up here, I could see the chaos unfolding.
My father’s men, believing they were protecting Harrow territory from Gabriel, were actually attacking Harrows’ own people.
And the Harrow soldiers, believing they were defending against an unprovoked assault from the Carmichaels, were fighting back with everything they had.
“Sir.” Vincent’s voice was tense. “We can’t reach them. The radios are being jammed.”
My father’s face contorted with rage. He seized my arm, spinning me around to face him. His fingers dug into the already tender flesh where they’d strapped me down earlier. “What have you done?”
“Don’t touch her,” Dante snarled.
The guard slammed the butt of his gun into Dante’s temple, sending him sprawling.
I met my father’s eyes calmly, though my heart was hammering. “Me? I’m just a girl. How could I have done anything?”
Below us, the careful alliances my father had built over decades were shattering in minutes. Just as we’d planned.
“Do you think this will be enough to get the other families to make Gabriel head of our family?” he snarled.
I think it will be enough to make me the head of our family .
But I didn’t say the words out loud. I’d always been quiet, careful, with my father. Today was no different. I didn’t want to give him a reason to kill Dante, Luca, and me now.
He looked genuinely disbelieving.
I looked out the glass again. My gaze was drawn to a tall, strong figure, a familiar fighting stance that I had seen after the car chase.
Gabriel and his men had come to be the rescuer of the Harrow family.
My husband was coming for me.
“You manipulative little bitch,” my father said.
His hand moved toward his gun, but Vincent’s voice cut through the tension. “Caruso’s people are here too. It looks like they’re backing up Harrow’s.”
My father went very still. In the reflection of the glass, I saw Luca’s slight smile. The implications were sinking in.
“Get me out of here,” my father ordered Vincent.
But I could see it in his eyes. He knew it was already too late. The trap had sprung perfectly.
Through the glass wall, I watched another explosion bloom in the rain.
Now we just had to survive what came next.