Page 53 of The Taste of Deceit

“And now you’ve come here asking for my blessing.”

“I have.”

The silence that follows stretches long enough for the horses to become the only sound in the barn. One shifts its weight. Another flicks its tail against the wooden stall. He finally turns toward me.

“My daughter spent eight years believing no man would ever love every part of her if they knew what happened that morning.”

My chest tightens.

“And now she finally found one.”

He takes a slow step closer.

“The problem is.” He studies me for another moment. “The man she found just told me he belongs to the Mafia.”

I don’t look away.

“Yes, sir.”

“You told me you’ve killed people.”

“I have.”

“You told me you’d do it again if it meant protecting your family.”

“I would.”

“So explain something to me. Why should I hand the most important person in my life over to a man who’s spent his entire adult life surrounded by violence?”

The question hangs between us.

“When I tucked Sarah into bed after she was born, I made myself a promise.” His voice stays calm, but somehow that’s worse. “I’d spend the rest of my life protecting her.”

His jaw tightens.

“I failed once.”

Then he looks me dead in the eye.

“I don’t intend to fail her again.”

“You won’t.”

His eyebrows lift slightly.

“Because if you give me your blessing…” I swallow. “She won’t just have you protecting her anymore.”

He watches me for a long moment without saying a word. Then he asks the question I’ve been expecting since I stepped into this barn.

“And what happens,” he says quietly, “when the life you’ve chosen comes looking for her?”

“You spent twenty-five years protecting Sarah.” I meet his eyes. “I’m not asking you to stop. I’m asking you to let me stand beside you.”

He doesn’t answer. The silence stretches before his gaze drifts past me toward the open barn doors.

“When Sarah was five,” he says, “she decided she was ready to ride by herself.”

He looks out towards the house.