Chapter 4 Dante #2
Sofia looks at her mother for permission.
Angelica hesitates, then nods.
Sofia takes Marta's hand and lets herself be led out of the kitchen.
Her cough echoes down the hallway as they walk away.
The moment they're gone, Angelica rounds on me, her eyes blazing with anger.
"What do you want from us?" she demands.
"I want the truth," I say. "And I want to make sure you're both protected."
"Protected from what? From you?"
"From the people who sent you here. From Antonelli Gerard and anyone else who thinks they can use you to get to me."
She crosses her arms over her chest.
"I don't need your protection. I need you to let us go."
"That's not going to happen."
"You can't keep us here forever."
"I can keep you here as long as necessary."
She takes a step toward me.
Her hands curl into fists at her sides.
"She's not yours, Dante. You have no claim to her."
"She has my eyes. Don't tell me she's not mine." I hold my ground, but the surge of anger in my chest makes me want to snap at her.
"Biology doesn't make you a father," she says, but her voice cracks.
"You don't know her. You weren't there when she was born. You didn't stay up all night when she was sick or teach her how to walk or hold her when she had nightmares. You're a stranger to her."
"Because you didn't give me a choice," I say.
My voice hardens. "You left without telling me you were pregnant. You hid her from me for six years. You took away any chance I had to be part of her life."
"I was protecting her."
"From what?"
"From you. From this." She gestures around the kitchen.
"From a life where she would grow up surrounded by violence and fear. I gave her a normal childhood. A safe childhood."
"And how safe is she now?" I ask.
I don’t even have to spell it out, because I see in her eyes that she knows I'm right.
So right, she can't even form an argument. "I'm going to prove she's mine," I say. "I've already arranged for a DNA test. My doctor will have the results in a few days."
Her head snaps back toward me. "No. You can't do that without my permission."
"I don't need your permission. I already have the sample."
"What are you talking about?"
"The silverware from dinner. Sofia ate off it. That's all I needed."
Her face goes pale.
She stares at me like I just slapped her.
"You had no right."
"I had every right. She's my daughter."
"She's my daughter," Angelica says, slamming her fist against her chest. "She's mine, and you can't just take her from me."
"I'm not taking her from you. I'm keeping both of you safe."
"By locking us in a room? By posting guards outside the door?"
"It's the only option right now."
She shakes her head.
Tears shine in her eyes, but she doesn't let them fall.
"Please. Just let us go. Sofia is happier without you. She's safer without you. We don't need you in our lives."
"My enemies know about her," I tell her bluntly.
"They know she exists. They know she's connected to me. If I let you walk out of here, they will find you again. And next time, they won't just drop you off at my door. They'll torture you for information. They'll kill you both when they're done. Is that what you want?"
She doesn't answer.
Her hands shake at her sides.
"I'm not the villain here," I say. "I'm trying to keep you alive. Both of you."
"You're the reason we're in danger in the first place."
"Yes," I agree. "And that's why I'm going to fix it."
She stares at me for a long moment.
Then she turns and walks out of the kitchen without another word.
I hear her footsteps on the stairs, then the guest room door close.
I stand alone in the kitchen and feel the crushing pressure I'm under.
I don't have time to fuss with a bullheaded woman while trying to defend my organization against an attack.
And I don't have the patience for it either.
I walk to the living room and stand in front of the Christmas tree.
The lights blink in slow rhythm.
Gold and white ornaments hang from the branches.
It looks ridiculous in this house.
Out of place.
Wrong.
But Sofia said it was pretty.
She said it was sad that I had nobody to decorate for.
I think about my own childhood.
My father was always working, managing the organization, putting the family business ahead of everything else.
I barely saw him during the holidays.
Christmas was just another day when he had meetings and deals to close.
I told myself it didn't matter, that I didn't need him around.
But I did.
I needed my father.
And he was never there.
Now I have a daughter who doesn't know me.
Who looks at me like I'm a monster.
And maybe I am.
Maybe Angelica's right.
Maybe Sofia is better off without me.
I turn away from the tree and walk upstairs to my room then strip off my blood-stained shirt and throw it in the trash.
Then I stand under the shower and let the hot water wash away the evidence of tonight.
This is who I am.
A killer, a ruthless dictator of a leader who forces people to bow to my will.
And somehow, I have to find a way to protect the people I care about without destroying them in the process.
I close my eyes and try to shut it all out.
But the image of Sofia's face stays with me, her dark brown eyes… my eyes.
She's mine, and I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe.
Even if she never forgives me for it.