“Listen, I’ve overheard some shit,” he says.
“What sort of shit?”
“There are some new meets going down. They’re starting to let us in.”
I raise an eyebrow. He seems excited, which is unlike him. The Bruno Luca I’ve known my whole life has been skeptical and quick to anger, but always patient when it comes to a kill.
I barely recognize this man. We’ve been growing apart for years, but now it feels like the break has finally come.
“I’m going to do it,” he says, cracking another beer. I cock a brow at him and he repeats himself, “I’ll do the hit.”
“No,” I say.
“I have a plan. You’re taking too long. They want this shit done.”
I ball my fists and have to take a deep breath before I clobber him to death. I almost want him to go forward with this hit and get himself killed. It would probably make my life easier if he just never fucking existed or suddenly disappeared.
Instantly I feel guilty about that thought. Although we’re growing apart, he’s still my father. I disagree with him over this situation, and there are a lot of things I hate about him, but he’s still my family. My only family. I can’t turn my back on him as much as I really want to. He's given me so much in my life already.
He fucked up as much as he gave, though. Maybe more.
“I can pull this off,” he says confidently.
“I’m not having this discussion.” I stare at him, and there must be something in the way I’m looking at him that makes him back off.
“Alright,” he mutters and takes another swig. After a second of silence, he grins at me. “Hey, let me see the girl.”
“What?”
“Yeah, let me see her.”
“You know I can’t do that.” My back straightens, and I feel a prickle of unease down my spine.
“Come on, son,” he says, leering at me. “I just wanna see the girl. I just want a little taste, you know what I mean?”
“No!” I say, more forceful than I expected. It surprises me and clearly surprises him, because his eyebrows instantly lift up in a questioning look.
I have to scramble to cover up my reaction. “You know how this goes,” I say. “I can’t have you going in there and fucking up my work. I need to build trust with her, make her want me above anything else.”
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “Right. I know how it is.”
“You can’t go in there. It’s not a good time.” It will never be a good time. My heart races with anxiety, but more so anger. She’s mine.
“Fine, fine,” he says, putting the empty beer can down on the counter. “Just take care of this shit fast, Gio. The Romanos want results.”
“Fine,” I say, and walk him to the door. “I’ll do what I can, as fast as I can.”
“Alright then, son.” He gives me a look that I can’t read, then leaves. I shut the door behind him, breathing fast as I lock it.
As I lean against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm myself, the memory of Grace’s hand touching mine comes back to me completely out of nowhere. I feel that same electric spark and excitement course through me as in that moment, and I remember her surprised but angry stare.
I didn’t stop my father because I want to break her, and the realization hits me with an undeniable force.
I stopped him because I want to protect her.
I don’t want my father near her because I don’t want him to hurt or touch her. It’s completely fucked, but I’m protective of her. The princess is mine, all mine, and I won’t have anyone else come near her.
Which makes things pretty fucking difficult for me.
