How am I supposed to walk into that building after this?
How am I supposed to look him in the eyes?
He’ll fire me.
The thought flashes so fast it steals my breath.
He’s going to fire me.
Because what kind of man keeps an assistant who did… whatever I did last night?
Who keeps an employee who let herself—
No. Stop.
I clamp down on the spiral, but it keeps clawing upward.
I need this job. Despite everything, it’s a great job. Nico manages some nightclubs and bars for the Conti family, and as his assistant, I get paid really well to keep his life organized. I’ve only been there a few weeks. I’ve just barely finished my probation period.
He’ll fire me, and maybe that’s for the best. Maybe I can take the money, disappear, never see him again.
The money.
My stomach dips.
Seventy thousand.
It still doesn’t sound real. It sounds like a number someone made up. But it’s real enough to pay for Dad’s surgery. Real enough to buy time. Real enough to keep him alive long enough for him to have a shot.
And that thought slices clean through everything else.
Dad.
Oh no.
Oh God, no.
My chest tightens so hard it hurts. I try to twist my torso, but Nico’s arm tightens slightly, like his body reacts even in sleep, like it senses me moving away.
My breath catches again.
I don’t have time for this.
I left Dad alone all night. I had to, but I asked Maddy to check on him. She lives close enough, and she promised she would. I have to assume she did.
But a promise isn’t the same as being there.
My dad is sick. He gets tired. He forgets things. He pretends he doesn’t, but I see it. I see the way his hands tremble when he reaches for his water. I see the way his face tightens when he stands up too fast.
What if something happened?
What if he fell?
What if he needed me?
The panic rises so fast my throat closes again.
I need to go home.
