Chapter Five
Jonah’s question repeated in my head before I opened my eyes.
Why after the Fourth?
The red dress hung from the bedroom door. My phone lit on the nightstand with a message I’d read before the flight.
DADDY: My driver will collect you at the Promise Ridge Fourth of July celebration. Be there.
Jonah moved around the kitchenette in a charcoal T-shirt and worn jeans, making coffee. He set out two mugs and took eggs from the refrigerator as though this were another morning in the life we’d started building.
My toiletries occupied one corner of his bathroom. My boots stood beside his. A gold bracelet rested near the sink because I’d forgotten to put it back on after washing the dishes. I’d spread through his cabin while withholding facts that might make him want every trace of me gone.
Jonah set a mug in front of me. “You slept badly.”
“So did you.”
“I wasn’t the one checking the time every hour.”
“I checked it twice.”
“You checked it twice while I was awake.”
I wrapped both hands around the mug. “That isn’t enough data for a reliable conclusion.”
His mouth almost curved, but the expression faded.
I could wait until tomorrow. I could let Daddy’s driver arrive at the celebration, then explain everything after Jonah had been pulled into a conflict he hadn’t agreed to enter.
That was how Daddy handled information. He decided what other people needed to know, then called the decision protection.
I set down the mug.
“Jonah, I need to tell you why tomorrow matters.”
He leaned against the counter and waited.
“My last name is Russo,” I said. “Domenico Russo is my father.”
Jonah stayed still.
I’d expected recognition, disbelief, or at least a question. His silence made the refrigerator’s low hum fill the room.
“The Domenico Russo?” he finally asked.
“Yes.”
He took in my diamonds, the gold at my wrists, and the red dress hanging behind me. They were pieces I’d let him interpret as wealth without explaining where the wealth came from.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“My family owns legitimate businesses.”
“That sounded like the beginning of a longer answer.”
“It is.”
I tightened my fingers around the mug.
“The legitimate businesses coexist with organized crime.”
Jonah didn’t step away.
He touched the back of the chair across from me. “Sit down.”
“I am sitting.”
“I meant that I’m going to.”
He pulled out the other chair and lowered himself into it. His forearms rested on the table, but he didn’t reach for his coffee.
“Tell me the rest,” he said.
I drew a slow breath.
“I worked for Daddy as his executive assistant. I managed his calendar, correspondence, travel, personal expenses, private vendors, and selected reimbursements.”
“You worked inside the organization.”
“Yes, but I didn’t run it. I didn’t control the money, and there are parts of the business I wasn’t involved in.”
Jonah said, “You knew what the organization was.”
“I grew up in it.”
The words came more quietly than I intended.
He waited.
“My psychology degree was acceptable because it was a degree. Using it was another matter. Daddy thought becoming a therapist would embarrass the family.”
“You said your father didn’t approve of the career.”
“I didn’t tell you how much he didn’t approve.”
Jonah’s jaw shifted.
“I started therapy eight months ago,” I continued. “I kept it secret because he considers talking to an outsider a betrayal. I paid for the sessions through consulting reimbursements I processed at work.”
“You hid the payments from your father.”
“I did.”
“And he found them.”
I nodded. “He did. He wasn’t worried about the amount. He wanted to know what I’d told my therapist about him and the family. I refused to tell him because those sessions were private.”
Jonah picked up his coffee, then set it down without drinking.
“What did he do?”
“He froze the cards and accounts he controlled. He removed my office access. Then he gave me a choice.”
“The placement or closer supervision in Brooklyn.”
“You remember.”
“You told me that part the first night.”
“I left out why.”
“You left out most of it.”
“Yes,” I said. “I did.”
Jonah pushed his chair back and stood.
My stomach tightened.
He crossed to the stove, turned off the burner beneath the eggs, and moved the pan away from the heat.
“Is your father dangerous?” he asked without turning around.
“He won’t hurt you.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
I rose from the table. “He’s controlling. He’s powerful. He’s used to getting what he wants.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“Yes.”
Jonah braced both hands on the counter.
I forced myself not to fill the silence with excuses.
“Does he know Cade made the profile?” he asked.
“No. He thinks the acceptance came from you. His staff verified your public business and property information, but nobody contacted you directly.”
“I knew they relied on the acceptance.”
“You didn’t know the woman they were sending was Domenico Russo’s daughter.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He faced me.
The green around his irises was darker in the morning light.
“What happens tomorrow?” he asked.
“Daddy’s driver is scheduled to collect me at the celebration.”
Jonah’s gaze held mine.
“You knew before you arrived that a car would be waiting tomorrow.”
“I did.”
“And when I asked what changed after the Fourth, you didn’t answer.”
“I’m answering now.”
“Because I asked again.”
“Because I realized I couldn’t wait any longer.”
He gave a short breath that held no amusement.
“You had a working phone five days ago. You chose not to call anyone even though you knew someone was already coming.”
“I did.”
The red dress hung in full view behind me.
“You bought that for a celebration where your ride home was already waiting.”
“I bought it because I wanted to go with you.”
“And then leave with him?”
“I didn’t know what I was going to do.”
“You told me to ask again after the Fourth.”
“Because I wanted to make the choice when the car was there.”
“Why?”
“Because refusing to leave when leaving was still theoretical wouldn’t prove anything.”
“To your father?”
“To me.”
Jonah crossed his arms.
I could hear the strain in my own breathing.
“I didn’t want to promise you I was staying and then discover tomorrow that I’d only said it because I was angry with Daddy.”
“So you decided I didn’t need to know there was a deadline.”
“I didn’t decide you didn’t need to know.”
“You knew, and I didn’t.”
“You’re right.”
“That’s the same result.”
I pressed my lips together.
“I was afraid,” I said.
Jonah’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
“Not of you. I was afraid that once you knew who my father was, you’d look at me differently. Or you’d decide none of this was worth it before I knew whether I could choose it.”
“That was my decision to make.”
“It was.”
“You wanted enough time to make your choice before I got to make mine.”
“That’s what I did.”
He turned toward the window.
Sunlight fell across his shoulders. The charcoal fabric pulled tight when he folded his arms, then loosened when he dropped them.
“You told me you wanted love without somebody managing your life,” he said.
“I still do.”
“But you managed what I knew.”
My throat tightened.
“I managed what you knew.”
Jonah rested one hand against the back of his neck.
“I’m not asking you to apologize for therapy,” he said. “I’m not asking you to apologize for your father, either.”
“I’m asking why you let me become part of this without telling me what this was.”
I stepped closer, then stopped before I reached him.
“I wanted the cabin to be separate from my family.”
“It was never separate, Talia. Your father chose the place. His people brought you here. His car is coming tomorrow.”
“I chose to stay. I chose you.”
His mouth flattened.
“Did you?”
“I did.”
“Or did you choose the one man your father would never choose for you?”
“That isn’t fair.”
“I don’t know what’s fair because I didn’t have the facts.”
“You know me.”
“I know the part of you that’s been here.”
“That’s me.”
“I believe it is.”
“I also know you wanted to prove you could last one night because your father expected you to fail. You stayed another day because leaving felt like letting him win. How much of this is us, and how much is the most dramatic way you can rebel against him?”
Heat rushed into my face.
“I didn’t sleep with you to rebel against Daddy.”
“I know.” Jonah’s answer came immediately. “You made your choice clear that night. I’m not questioning that.”
“Then what are you questioning?”
“Everything after tomorrow.”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Jonah waited without offering me an answer.
“I want to stay,” I said.
“Because you want this life?”
“I want you.”
“Wanting me isn’t the same as wanting a life here.”
“You’re part of the life I want.”
“What happens when the cabin stops feeling like an escape?”
“It doesn’t feel like an escape.”
“You’ve been here six days.”
“Not quite.”
“You haven’t paid a bill, started school, found work, or dealt with your family from here. You’ve cooked dinner, helped with receipts, and spent nights in my bed.”
“You’re reducing what happened.”
“No. I’m trying not to build a future out of one week because I want you.”
My pulse beat harder.
“You’ve imagined me staying,” I said.
“I have.”
“So have I.”
“That doesn’t make either of us right.”
“No, but it makes us honest.”
“Honesty would’ve included tomorrow’s car.”
I nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
Jonah’s jaw tightened.
“I’m not apologizing for therapy,” I said. “I’m not apologizing for wanting a career Daddy hates or for refusing to let him control my choices. I’m apologizing for taking your choice away while I protected mine.”
He looked at me for several seconds.
“That’s the part I needed you to understand.”
“I understand. I told myself I was waiting until I knew what I wanted. The truth is that I was also waiting until you cared too much to walk away easily.”
Jonah’s hand closed around the back of a chair.
“I didn’t plan it that way,” I continued. “I wasn’t trying to trap you. But I knew every day made this harder, and I still didn’t tell you.”
He released the chair.
“Thank you for saying it.”
“That doesn’t sound like forgiveness.”
“It isn’t.”
I swallowed.
“Are you telling me to leave?”
“No, I’m not.”