Chapter 29
Elena
Ren drops us off at a building I've never seen before. Marco hands him the plastic bag—I try not to think about what's inside—and tells him to gather intel on who attacked us.
Ren speeds away, leaving us alone on the street.
I'm not cold but my body won't stop shivering. Adrenaline. Has to be. Tonight scared the shit out of me. I thought we were going to die.
Marco steps close and grabs my hand. I pull him in and crash my lips to his. My emotions are raw and I need him to know—need him to understand how grateful I am that we're both alive.
He melts into me, his tongue slipping into my mouth. Our kiss is deep and desperate. I wrap my arms around his neck and he wraps his around my back. Holding each other tightly. Making sure this is real. That we're both here.
I break the kiss and look at him. We're both panting. My eyes start to water.
"I know, baby." He kisses my forehead. "But we could still be in danger. We need to get off the street."
He leads me to the side of the building where a car is waiting. Keys in the cup holder. He opens my door, and when I'm seated, he reaches across to buckle my seatbelt.
Before he backs away, I cup his face in my hands. "Thank you," I whisper, then pull him in for a gentle kiss.
He gives a soft smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. He looks sad. Or maybe guilty.
This wasn't his fault. It was mine. I almost got us both killed.
He gets in the driver's seat and we drive in silence. Eventually he turns off the main road toward a warehouse. Parks the car. Sits there for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel.
"Are you okay?" he finally asks.
The tears come before I can stop them. I swipe them away quickly. "I'm... fine."
He gives me a look that says he knows I'm lying.
He scoots his seat back, unbuckles my seatbelt, and pulls me into his lap. I straddle him but it's not sexual. It's intimate. Safe. He tilts my chin up to meet his eyes.
"Talk to me, baby."
I put my head in my hands. The panic rises suddenly, overwhelming. "I... we almost died. Who were they? They just tried to kill us and I killed someone and—"
Marco places his hands on my face. "Look at me, Elena."
I do. Try to breathe.
"You were incredible tonight. You didn't hesitate. You saved my life. Twice." His voice is tender. Honest. "I will forever be in your debt."
"But you wouldn't have been in that situation if it wasn't for me. This is all my fault—"
He puts a finger over my lips. "It's not your fault that your father is a coward who pawned his debt off on his daughter. It's not your fault that the Costellos are monsters. It's not your fault that I let my guard down." He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against mine. "I'm sorry."
I'm stunned. This isn't his fault at all.
I kiss the tip of his nose. His cheek. His jawline. Finally his lips. Brief. Warm. Grateful.
"We need to find your dad," he says. "He's the only one who can fix this. He can own up to the debt and get you off the hook."
"But they'll kill him, Marco. I can't give my dad up for slaughter."
"But you'll let him do that to you?" Anger flashes in his voice.
I climb off his lap and back into my seat.
Look out the window. "He's the only parent I have left.
When my mom died, he was my world. I wasn't even a teenager yet.
" My voice goes soft. "He didn't know how to raise me on his own.
I'd come home from school and find parenting books on the coffee table.
Or his computer open to parenting Facebook pages looking for answers.
He always tried to be a good dad. Until. .."
Until everything fell apart.
"Until he got excommunicated," I finish. "Everything went downhill from there."
"Do you know why Vito removed him from the family?" Marco asks calmly.
"Gambling debt. It was affecting his work for Giuseppe."
"That's not the only reason, Elena. He was selling Rosso information to the Costellos."
"WHAT?!" I whip toward him. "He wouldn't do that. He loved the Rossos."
"He thought your mom and Vito had an affair. Of course they didn't, but he couldn't let it go. After your mom died, he spiraled. Quickly."
"Why would he think that? Vito barely knew my mom—"
"Bianca and Vito were childhood friends, Elena.
She introduced Elio to Vito before she got married.
She thought Elio would be an asset to the Rossos.
And he was. For a long time. He was smart, talented, resourceful.
Could sneak anywhere without being detected.
" Marco smiles slightly. "Just like his beautiful daughter. "
I smile despite myself at the compliment. "I didn't know my mom knew Vito that closely. They never acted like friends. Not in front of me anyway."
"In the year leading up to her death, Vito suspected something was off with Elio.
He asked your mom to watch for suspicious behavior.
She came back with nothing. Then she died and your dad went off the rails.
The gambling got worse. His performance became erratic.
He'd disappear for days." Marco pauses. "Finally we got word he was selling information to the Irish.
Vito would've killed him, but he'd made a promise to your mom—before she died—that he would protect you.
He didn't want to hurt you by taking away your only parent.
So he gave him a final warning. Never step foot in Italian territory again. "
The revelations crash over me like waves. My mom and Vito were friends. My dad betrayed the Rossos. Vito vowed to protect me.
That's why after all these years, he still invites me to family events. My mom was his family. Therefore I am too.
"I always thought Vito pitied me," I say softly. "That I was the daughter of his enemy. That my face was a representation of betrayal."
"Your face was the representation of the friend he lost. The piece of his heart that was ripped out when she was taken from him. From both of you."
The weight of everything settles over me. My father isn't the man I thought he was. He's not the grieving widower who made mistakes. He's a traitor who sold out his family. And now he's hiding while his daughter pays the price for his cowardice.
I can't keep running from this. Can't keep putting Marco and the people I love in danger because I'm trying to protect a man who wouldn't do the same for me.
"We need to find my father," I say. The words feel heavy and liberating at the same time. "I know how to reach him through the cafe. When I place a specific order, they pass messages. I don't know exactly how they communicate, but they always come back with a meeting place, date, and time."
Marco nods. Relief flickers in his eyes. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," I agree.
Because it's time to stop running and start fighting back. And if my father won't face the consequences of his actions, then I'll drag him out of hiding myself.