But the evidence is still there. The transfers, the shell companies, the digital trail that leads directly back to him. He would be smart enough to keep it hidden. He’s probably planning an escape. I wouldn’t be surprised to discover he had a house in some faraway place.
And we would find it. Nothing and no one would ever stay hidden from us. Me. My people and the governing body that ruled the underworld.
"One week," I say, cutting through his protests. "You have one week to return the five million dollars, or your daughter becomes a permanent part of my organization."
The color drains from his face entirely. "You can't—she's innocent in all this."
"So were a lot of people who got caught in family business." I straighten my jacket, preparing to leave. "One week, Richard. Don't disappoint me."
"Dante, please?—"
"You're not my handler, mob boy."
The voice comes from behind me, clear and furious and achingly familiar. I turn slowly.
Unless she’s sprouted wings and managed to fly out of my penthouse, Alexei is dead.
Hannah stands in the doorway, her auburn hair blazing like fire, her green eyes shooting daggers at me. She's wearing the same clothes from this morning, but they're wrinkled now, her professional composure completely shattered.
Alexei appears behind her, looking apologetic. I’m only slightly relieved he’s not dead with a stiletto buried in his throat. But now he needs to worry I’m going to kill him for failing the job I gave him.
"Sorry, boss. She was insistent."
His apology is half-assed.
"She's one woman," I say through gritted teeth. "How hard can it be to keep her contained?"
"Contained?" Hannah's voice rises to a dangerous pitch. "I'm not a fucking pet, you psychopath!"
She pushes past Alexei and stalks toward me, her finger pointed at my chest like a weapon. "And you," she rounds on her father, "have been lying to me my entire life!"
"Hannah, sweetheart?—"
"Don't you dare 'sweetheart' me!" Her voice cracks with emotion. "You work for the mob? The actual mob? And you never thought to mention this tiny detail?"
Richard looks between us. "You took her because of me. Take me. Let her go."
"I took her because she's leverage," I say coldly, though the words taste like ash in my mouth.
"I'm not anyone's leverage!" Hannah whirls on me, getting right in my face despite the fact that I have six inches and sixty pounds on her. "I'm not property to be traded back and forth between you and my father like some kind of medieval dowry!"
Her courage is magnificent and terrifying. She has no idea how dangerous this situation is, how close she is to being hurt by people who wouldn't hesitate to use her against both Richard and me.
"You're mine until this debt is settled," I tell her quietly.
"I belong to myself."
"Not anymore."
The words hang between us like a gauntlet thrown down. Hannah stares at me with a mixture of fury and hurt that cuts deeper than any knife.
"You bastard," she whispers.
Before she can say anything else that might get her killed, I grab her arm and pull her against me, my mouth next to her ear.
"Calm down, Red," I murmur, my voice low enough that only she can hear. "I've got this."
She struggles against my grip, but I hold her firmly, breathing in the scent of her hair, trying to ignore how right she feels in my arms.
