RUSLAN
Half of me aches to leave with Ivy and make sure she’s okay, but it’s clear she needs a moment. It can’t be easy to listen to your father’s lover and not feel absolutely overwhelmed.
I have no reason to be gentle.
“Not once did it cross your mind that you were breaking up a family?”
Florence sniffles and glances up at me. “What?”
“You’ve told me you were enamored with him and how he treated you, you fell for him, etcetera. But not once did your morals ever speak up about fucking a married man?”
Her eyes widen. “It was complicated.”
“Was it? You didn’t feel anything for his wife or his kid?”
“I did! But it was like I said… we fell in love. You can’t control who you fall in love with.”
She’s right, to an extent. Moving from the door, I walk closer but remain standing so she’s forced to crane her head back to look up at me.
“You’re Italian.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Who is your family?”
“I’m a Marino.”
“Marino… I don’t know that name.”
“And yet you told me all families are cared for.” Florence scoffs thickly. “See?”
“Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell. My grandfather used to be an Enforcer for a bigger Italian family. They faded decades ago and my father did odd work here and there. He was a runner for most of his life, but nothing like the big dogs.”
“A runner. Drugs?”
She fixes me with a narrow stare. “Guns.”
“And now?”
“He’s in prison. My mom is dead. My brother is dead. What does any of that even matter?”
I lean forward very slowly. “Because there’s a war going on, Florence. A war that tried to end until someone intervened, and it just so happens that poor Ivy got caught in the middle.”
“And you thinkIhad something to do with that?”
“You are fucking her father. Sorry, were.”
Florence’s hand flies out suddenly, but I catch her wrist before she can slap me.
“Fuck you,” she sobs. “I loved him, okay? You can dig into my life as much as you want, I don’t care. There’s nothing to see, nothing to find. I worked in a hotel and now I work at agasstation, okay? My life isn’t bright or romantic. The only good thing I had was Camden, and we were going to be together!”
“Then why did he have to change his name?” My brow lifts as her pulse races against my fingertips. “Who was he hiding from?”
“I don’t know! If I did, I would tell you because maybe they were involved in his death, but I don’t know, okay? We were just two people in love. He knew my past and he didn’t care. I knew he was married and I didn’t care, okay? I didn’t care about her or his daughter because I loved him.”
My grip tightens a fraction. “Then why did you bring her flowers?”
