Page 113 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

My father nodded. “By all means. Please. Help yourself to a pen. I’ll ensure Virginia refills the stash of them that sit on your own desk, because I guess you somehow managed to run all of those out at the same time.”

I could have tried making further excuses and explanations. Instead, I just nodded. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that. I guess we’ll go now.”

“How are you two enjoying the gift I gave you?”

I stopped. “If you mean the gift of a new player, then if I’m being honest, no. I’m not enjoying it. You gave me that team. And I made Lynx the coach. We both should have been consulted before you offered contracts to any new players.”

My father’s eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps you should just say thank you, Daddy.”

Oh, fuck him. I hadn’t called him Daddy a single day in my entire life, not even when I was a kid. He just wanted me to feel small. I knew when I was being put on the spot. Put back in my place. “Thank you,” I forced out.

My father flicked his hand toward the door, dismissing us. But as I was about to close the door, he called out, “Oh, Luca? If you’re searching for Nyah, don’t bother.”

I paused. “Where is she?”

“Being punished.”

A soft, low growl started up from Lynx’s chest.

I shot him a warning look but spoke to my father. “Punished how? And for what?”

He flicked his fingers at me dismissively. “How I discipline my wife is not your concern. But Lynx? There is no need for you to be here tonight. Or for the next few nights. You can return next week when Nyah will be back.”

I could tell even without turning in Lynx’s direction that he was going to lose his shit. His entire body was one tense ball of stress and concern, set to explode at any second. I could already see it playing out, Lynx’s last thread snapping and him launching himself at my father.

My father pulling his gun.

A bullet spearing through Lynx’s temple and his body slumping dead on the tabletop.

The vision was so vivid I was almost certain I’d seen it happen before. Maybe as a child, and I’d blocked most of it out. Or maybe I’d just forgotten it amongst all the other violent memories my brain stored.

I slapped Lynx on the back and pushed him toward the door before he could do anything stupid. “Lucky you! You get some time off! Enjoy!”

I kicked my father’s door shut behind us and shoved Lynx away from it, pushing him back down the hallway toward the door.

His eyes blazed. “What the fuck, Luca? He’s punishing her? For what? How? Where the hell is she?”

I shook my head, trying to calm him down. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll be fine. My father’s idea of a punishment is cutting her manicure budget or taking away her TV subscription so she can’t watch Real Housewives anymore. She’ll be fine.”

“But where is she?”

I waved a hand at him. “Probably at one of our other properties. Don’t worry about it. Come back in a few days, and I’m sure it will have all blown over.”

He didn’t believe me. I could see it all over his face.

He was ready to storm my father’s office and demand to know where she was.

I wasn’t having another person I cared about shot and killed by my father. It wasn’t fucking happening. “Go, Lynx.” I turned to Bruno and Viktor on the door. “He’s not to come back in here until I say. See him out to the street, please.”

“Luca,” he growled at me, a warning in his tone.

One I ignored, even though it sent goosebumps across my skin. I held firm, because if I didn’t, I knew what the outcome would be. And I wasn’t willing to live with it.

I walked away from the door, leaving Lynx on the outside of it.

But when I got back to my room, I was breathing hard.

Because I might have saved the life of one person I cared about tonight, by getting him out of this fucking hellhole of a house before he could challenge my father.