And I'll die before I let that happen.
CHAPTER 22
Elena
I'm holdingonto Marco's waist for dear life. If I let go, my knees will give out completely. Marco is making it crystal clear to the Irish that I'm not to be messed with—that much is obvious from his stance, the possessive way he's positioned his body between me and them, the warning in his voice.
The Irishmen step away from the table, and I finally release the breath I didn't even realize I was holding. That was intense. They weren't able to say whatever they came here to say before Marco arrived, but the threat was clear enough. They're growing more impatient, more desperate.
But they weren't the only thing I was scared of tonight.
My dad showed up to what I thought was going to be a meeting with Marcello. When I saw him sitting in that booth, looking older and more haggard than I remembered, my heart had leaped with hope. Finally, we could talk. Finally, I could get some answers.
Instead, he spent twenty minutes explaining that there's a bounty on his head and he's been in hiding. When I tried to get more information, he was skittish, stuttering his words likea man on the edge of a complete breakdown. He was clearly terrified.
But if he was so afraid, why risk coming out of hiding to find me? And why meet me in an Irish establishment of all places?
I know why. He wanted me to pull money out of my trust fund to help him. He thought that if we were approached by the Costellos in their own territory, he could tell them I had access to the funds they wanted.
The realization makes me sick. First of all, I don't have a million dollars I can just withdraw from my trust fund. Second, I have to ask permission for any significant withdrawals, and that kind of money would raise questions I can't answer. And third—most importantly—he doesn't give a damn about my safety.
He was prepared to throw me to the wolves, to tell dangerous men that I had access to money, then leave me to deal with the consequences. This isn't the father who taught me to ride a bike, who told me family means everything. This is a stranger with his own selfish agenda.
When those men approached our table, he didn't even look back. He just ran, abandoning me to face the threats he'd created.
"Let's get out of here," Marco whispers in my ear, and I lean into him for just a moment, drawing strength from his solid presence.
He keeps his arm around me as we walk through the club. I can feel every eye on us. Feel the weight of what just happened settling over me like a heavy blanket.
The ride back to my apartment is a blur. Marco and I sit in the backseat of the SUV, his hand still holding mine. Our thighs touch. I can feel his warmth, and I try to focus on that instead of the chaos in my head.
But then reality crashes over me like a wave. That might have been the last time I ever see my father. He could disappearagain, or worse—someone could collect that bounty. Despite everything he's done, despite how he abandoned me tonight, the thought of losing him forever makes my chest tighten.
My breathing becomes shallow. Too fast. The world starts to spin, and my chest feels like it's trapped in a vise.
Marco's hand tightens on mine. "Elena. Look at me."
I can't. The panic is overwhelming, consuming everything else.
We pull up in front of my building. I need air. I need space. I need?—
The moment the car stops, I'm fumbling for the door handle. It swings open and I stumble out, nearly getting myself killed as a car screeches to a halt inches from my body. The driver lays on the horn, shouting something I can't hear over the ringing in my ears.
I stumble around the back of the SUV and into my building, taking the stairs two at a time. Marco is calling my name behind me, but I can't stop. Can't breathe. Can't think.
I make it to my apartment door before my legs give out. Marco is there a second later. He takes my keys from my shaking hands and unlocks the door. Guides me inside with a hand on my back.
I'm pacing the living room like a caged animal. My chest heaving as I struggle to get enough air. The panic is overwhelming.
"Elena." Marco's voice is calm. Steady. "You need to breathe."
"I can't—" The words come out strangled. "He just left me there. He didn't even look back."
"I know."
"And they know who I am. They know about Elio. They know—" My voice breaks. "What if they go after Rina? Or Sofia? What if?—"
"Hey." Marco steps in front of me. His hands frame my face, forcing me to look at him. "Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. With me."
