Chapter 50 #3
Luca’s death was ruled a suicide. Then he left a recorded message saying he didn’t choose to die. And my father, the night after the funeral, was talking about handling problems and silencing threats.
“Ayanna?” Naomi’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “You’ve got a weird look on your face.”
“I’m fine.” I force a smile. “Just tired. It’s been a long few days.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t push, either.
I draw a slow breath. Because Father is many things, but he wouldn’t… have a man killed. Stage it. Cover it up.
Or would he?
He’s the same man who forced me into a marriage I never wanted. The man who just tried to sell my sister to someone three times her age. The man whose ambitions precede anything else.
Would he kill Luca?
I shove the thought down.
No. That’s impossible. He wouldn’t.
“Anyway,” Naomi says, pulling me back to the room, “that’s when I started to realize Father wasn’t who I thought he was. Or maybe he was exactly who I thought he was, and I just didn’t want to see it.”
“Welcome to the club.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “Meetings are Wednesdays. We serve wine and denial.”
She laughs, and some of the tightness in my chest loosens.
“I missed you,” she says quietly.
“I missed you too.” I squeeze her hand again. “More than you know.”
My phone rings, pulling us out of the moment. I slide it from my pocket, glance at the screen, and feel my stomach drop straight through the floor.
Father.
Naomi sees my expression change. “Who is it?”
“Speak of the devil.”
I stare at the name glowing there like a curse. Part of me wants to ignore it and just let it ring. But I know our father. If I don’t answer now, he’ll just keep calling until I do. Better to get it over with.
I swipe and press the phone to my ear. “Father.”
“Ayanna.” His voice fills the line. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“What do you want?”
A beat of silence, which tells me he doesn’t like my tone.
“I’m calling about your sister.”
“What about her?”
“Don’t play games with me.” The calm wavers by a fraction. “Is she there?”
I glance at Naomi. She’s watching me with furrowed brows, her hands tight around the teacup.
“Yes.”
“Put her on the phone.”
“No.”
“Ayanna.” He clears his throat, and his voice takes on a practiced warmth. “I understand you’re upset. The situation with Naomi was… handled poorly. I admit that. But surely you can see this reaction is excessive. Running away like a child. Causing a scene. Embarrassing the family.”
“Embarrassing the family.” I scoff. “That’s what you’re worried about? Your reputation?”
“I’m worried about my daughter. Both of them.”
“Then you should have kept your promise.”
“The arrangement I made for Naomi was advantageous—”
“The arrangement you made was selling her to a man old enough to be her father.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“And you’re being a monster.”
My heart slams. I’ve never spoken to him like this. Never challenged him so directly. Never let him hear the fury I’ve been swallowing since the day he told me I was marrying a stranger.
Naomi stares at me like she’s never seen me before.
“Ayanna.” His voice has gone cold, the warmth evaporated as if it had never been there. “I am your father. You will show me respect.”
“Respect is earned. You’ve done nothing but prove you don’t deserve it.”
“Send Naomi home.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“And that wasn’t an answer. It was a statement.” I stand and pace around the room. “Naomi is staying here. With me. In my husband’s house, under his protection.”
“Your husband.” Father scoffs. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a fact.”
“You’ve changed,” he grunts. “This place. This man. They’ve changed you.”
“No.” I stare out at the snow, at the frozen landscape that’s become my home. “I’m exactly who I’ve always been. You just never bothered to notice.”
I hang up before he can answer.
My hands are shaking. I don’t realize it until I try to put the phone back in my pocket and nearly drop it.
I just told off my father.
Either I’ve grown a spine or I’ve lost my mind. Possibly both.
“Ayanna.”
I turn. Naomi is standing now, tea forgotten on the windowsill, her eyes bright—pride and fear and relief all tangled together.
“That was terrifying.” She chuckles.
“Tell me about it.”
“I’ve never heard anyone talk to him like that.”
“Neither have I.” I exhale slowly, trying to steady my pulse. “Apparently marriage to a Norwegian mafia heir does wonders for your backbone.”
She huffs a laugh and crosses the room and throws her arms around me.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “For not letting him take me. For standing up for me. For—”
“You’re my sister.” I hold her tight. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
She pulls back, wiping her eyes. “What happens now?”
“Now?” I take a breath. “Now we figure out how to keep you safe. And I have a charity gala to plan.”
Naomi’s brows rise. “A what?”
“Long story. I’ll explain over dinner.” I manage a smile. “Welcome to Norway, little sister. Try not to fall for any brooding Vold brothers while you’re here.”
Her blush tells me everything I need to know.
Too late.