Especially if my father didn’t meet whatever deal they had?
Olivia suspected her father was killed by the Vitales. But what if it was Blackwood who arranged it?
Kill Detective Ricci, blame it on my father.
Whatever vendetta Blackwood has, it didn’t die when my father did. Or maybe like my father he gets off on the power trip of playing people like marionettes.
If I'm right, then Blackwood isn't just some overzealous agent with a vendetta. He's been playing a long game, one that started before Olivia even joined the Bureau.
I need to protect her. Not just because I love her, though God knows that's reason enough.
But because she's in the crosshairs of a man who's been eliminating loose ends for decades.
I make a decision. It's time to end this. Time to take Blackwood down, not just for La Corona, but for Olivia. For the truth she deserves to know about her father.
Even if it means she'll hate me for it.
But now, I’m expected at the Winter Festival. But maybe while I’m there, I can hunt down some of my father’s now retired captains and soldiers. Maybe they’ll have more info for me.
I arrive at the event and for a moment, I’m transported back to being eight years old. It would be fun to have my own kid to bring here someday.
"Uncle Dom!" Three identical shrieks pierce my thoughts as Elena's triplets barrel toward me, nearly knocking me over.
I crouch down, catching Rocco and Elio in each arm while Adalina wraps herself around my neck from behind.
"You came!" Adalina's voice vibrates with excitement against my ear.
"Of course I came. Would I miss seeing you little munchkins?" I ruffle Rocco's hair, noticing how much taller they all seem since Thanksgiving.
Elena approaches with Luca, baby Gianna bundled against her chest. "They've been watching for you," she says, smiling although I see concern in her eyes. I can only imagine what Roman told Luca and the others about my entanglement with Olivia.
"I guess I’m the man of the hour."
"Can we go see Santa?" Elio tugs at my sleeve, eyes wide with hope.
My stomach tightens at the mention of Santa, memories of last year's kidnapping still raw. I glance at Luca, who gives me a subtle nod. Security is tight this year, men stationed throughout the festival, watching every Santa, every exit.
"Let's get hot chocolate first," I suggest, buying time.
Later, with the triplets ice skating with Luca, Elena hands Gianna to me. The baby is impossibly small in my arms, her tiny fingers curling around mine with surprising strength.
"She likes you," Elena says softly.
I stare down at Gianna's perfect face, an ache forming in my chest. Is this what fatherhood feels like? This overwhelming desire to protect, to provide, to be worthy?
For the first time, I allow myself to imagine a child of my own. A family. A different kind of future than the one I've always accepted as inevitable.
“You should get married, Dom. Have some kids of your own.”
I roll my eyes.
“What’s going on with Agent Ricci?”
“Ah, so there it is. Gianna is just a ploy so you can interrogate me.”
“It’s not like that and you know it. I want you to be happy.”
I arch a brow. “What if Agent Ricci makes me happy?”
