“Well, when you get to college, Nico won’t be around,” I say.
“Why do you think I pushed so hard for graduating early?” Nova smirks. “Rhys was awesome. He kept the fact I’ve been visiting you guys a secret. But he warned me that Dad’s been asking questions and now that Nico is my new shadow for hire, he reports everything to my dad.”
“Moreno knows that you were at our house Thursday and Friday?” I ask.
“Yes, I told Dad I wanted to watch the Narwhals game against the Wolverines and that it’d be late coming home, so I’d rather crash on your couch. I didn’t have school on Friday, so he was fine with it since you were there.”
“Any word on the little boy?” I ask, glancing in the direction of the basement.
“He’s already been moved. Dad sent Mom and me out on an afternoon spending spree, which is so unlike him, unless he’s up to no good. Did you see the news? They reported the kid dead, along with his family. Showed his photo for a good two minutes on the nightly news after the explosion leveled their home.”
I curse and rub the back of my neck. “Any word on the investigation?”
It’s obvious that my father was involved.
Nova stands and puts the book that she’d been reading back on the shelf. “Nothing, but we know the little boy is alive, Rylan Matthews.”
“It’s all so fucked up,” I mutter, watching as Nova paces the length of the library.
“You have to stop him,” Nova says, her gaze pleading with me to do something.
She’s not the only one unhappy under this roof. I’m well aware that Harper is frustrated by my father, turns out Nova is as well, and so am I.
But I can’t stop him. I can’t go up against Dante when he has an army behind him.
“How do you think that’s going to happen?” I tilt my head back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling.
“He’s making you work for him, do something.”
Nova makes it sound so easy, like I could just put a gun to Dante’s head, pull the trigger, and make all the horrible acts he’s done vanish.
Life isn’t that simple; neither is stopping the mafia boss.
The next morning after breakfast, I hear soft footsteps while I sip my coffee and glance up.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, my gaze tightening on Ashton.
Dante closes the distance behind Ashton, apparently hearing my question. “I invited him,” my father says.
“Why?” I put my coffee mug down, my appetite sated.
“Ashton is doing an internship for my organization,” Dante says proudly. I imagine he’s the son Dante always wanted, not me.
“Of course, he is,” I mutter, glancing at Ashton, wondering how long they’ve been working together.
“He’s going to help train you, get you up to speed on your shooting skills at the firing range this morning.”
My shooting skills are zilch since I’ve never handled a gun, not after witnessing my father use one to commit murder.
“Can’t we just train in the gym with weights or in hand-to-hand combat?” I’m one hell of a fighter. It helps that I play hockey; I’m used to getting roughed up and dishing it back out.
“No,” Dante says. “You need to get over your fear and learn to fucking shoot a target.”
He turns and decides that he’s done as he walks away, leaving Ashton and me alone in the hallway.
“Scared to hold a gun?” Ashton is smirking at me, and I throw up my middle finger at him.
“Hardly, I’ve just never seen the need.” I gesture to the compound around me. “I’ve got enough men doing my father’s bidding. I don’t need to be one of them.”
