She doesn’t look like she wants to leave, but she steps aroundPapá. However, she pauses before she moves aside the curtain.
“What should I tell them, Jandro?”
“As much of the truth as you think they need.”
“Until we know more, the only truth they need is that I’m still breathing. I can text them that.”
There’s a bitterness to her tone I’m unaccustomed to. I should’ve done more to comfort her rather than tease her. I’d hoped to distract her from how shitty I surely look. My face still sports the bruises from Cosima’s henchmen. Turns out the cut on my face wasn’t as bad as I feared. The doctor said the scar will barely be noticeable. So much for improving my menacing aura.
While the injuries aren’t severe, I don’t want her to guess how much pain I’m actually in. It’ll worry her and only compound her guilt. I blame her for nothing, but I know she’s ashamed of her family. If the situation were reversed, I’d feel the same way. Except my family wouldneverbe so dishonorable.
Even at Juan’s worst—when he could’ve brought down our entire empire because he went after Laura—we didn’t turn against him. We banished him, but we didn’t turn on him. We found out he returned to New York a couple hours before Maks and his family struck. We did our best to get to him, willing to defend him despite the shit he piled upon all of us. We didn’t save him, but we retaliated. Even though we knew—we conceded—he was in the wrong, family doesn’t turn against family.
“Vita, call them. Your parents must be in a panic right now. I’m surprised your mother hasn’t been calling every five minutes or insisted Serafina track you down.”
“She may have. I turned it off. I didn’t want the tracker on.”
She pulls the device from her pocket and turns it back on. The moment the phone is active, alerts go off like someone’s in cardiac arrest. She winces as she swipes the screen.
“I really better call. Excuse me.”
I watch her walk away, noticing she left the curtain open just enough for me to see she doesn’t go very far. Mychiquitagets me.
“If you won’t let Joaquin see me, then please ask him to look up some things for me. I want to know what that building was and who owned it. I want all of Vita’stía’sand her ex-boyfriend’s financial statements for the last six months. I want a list of their known associates, all their travel records, and all their phone logs. I want to know who they’re sleeping with and who they aren’t. I want to know what Piero thought about them and the last time he spoke to them. I want to know what Cosima’s and Zorzi’s relationships were like with Vita’s parents and with Piero. Hell, I want to know the last time either of them went to the dentist. This would go a lot faster if you let me work alongside Joaquin.”
“No. Jorge can help him with all the financial data. Pablo and Javier will do whatever Joaquin asks.”
“I know,Mamá, but?—”
“But?”
I tuck my chin and lean back against my pillows. I know better than to say more, so I look atPapá. That’s a lost cause, and I know it, but I had to try. If it’s for my wellbeing,Papáwon’t consider disagreeing withMamá.
“Mijo, yourmamáis right. Let yourprimosdo the work for now. You can make it up to them later. I’m certain Pablo, Jorge, and Javier would love to use your jet for getaways with their wives.”
I open my mouth, then snap it shut. “Sí, papá.”
I like it a whole lot better when I’m listening to Vita say “yes, Daddy,” than me acquiescing to my parents.
I observe Vita through the opening in the curtains. She swipes a hand over her hair before she appears to brush tears from her face. I sit up farther, ignoring the searing pain in myback and shoulders. Whatever good stuff they gave is starting to wear off already. Or maybe I should be a better patient and sit my ass still. She inhales and straightens her shoulders before turning around. Our gazes lock, and I catch her moment of surprise. She didn’t want me to see her like that.
“Vita?”
I push back the covers as she returns. Both of my parents reach for me, but I ignore them. Holding my gown shut in the back, I rise. My free arm reaches out to her. She hesitates, then steps close enough for me to wrap my arm around her waist and draw her against me.
“Mamàhad to tellPapàand Don Piero. They called Don Salvatore. He’s searching for me. I toldMamàto call it off, that I’m fine. It’s too late. I’m certain Don Salvatore’s already called yourzio.”
“And nothing catastrophic happened. Otherwise,TíoEnrique would’ve come back here. At the very least, he would’ve called or textedPapá. I’m certain he’s taken care of it.”
“This is my fault, Jandro.”
“No, it’s not. Cosima said the Galicians were after me. It’s on them if that’s even true.”
“But she and Zorzi wouldn’t have gotten involved if it weren’t for me.”
“That makes no sense. Think about it. If they weren’t angry that the hit didn’t happen, they wouldn’t have gotten involved. This was about me not dying.”
“I—”
