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I nearly jump out of my skin as I turn. The kitchen’s bustling now, the cooks doing their thing at the various stations, prepping the meal they’ll serve in a few minutes. Standing in the midst of all that commotion is my father.

He’s smiling. He looks awkward, a little unsure of himself. There’s nobody around right now—everyone’s focused on the table in that room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” My hands are clammy and my lips feel numb.

Dad shrugs like he’s not sure of himself. “I’ve been trying to have a word with you, but it hasn’t been easy.”

“I don’t want a word with you. I don’t want anything to do with you, Genaro.” I emphasize his name. He’s not my father, and I won’t call him that.

He doesn’t seem to mind. When he comes closer, he does so with a limp. I glance down, frowning at the giant knee brace that’s keeping him upright.

“Your new patient is very protective of you,” he says, gesturing to the brace. “Did he mention that I stopped by?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“I’m not surprised. He came down to the gate all by himself, teetering along with that cane, and beat the shit out of me with it. Can you imagine? The guy can barely stand and yet he broke my damn knee.” Dad laughs but there’s no humor in it. “I might never walk right again. Sort of ironic, isn’t it?”

“What the hell do you want?”

I’m shaking, trembling. I want to run away but where can I go? Nowhere is safe. I can’t catch Fynn’s attention without ruining the meeting and making things worse, and I can’t leave without putting myself in danger. I’m stuck here with this man, and I want to scream.

“I just came to warn you. That’s all I’ve been trying to do, Mirella.”

That word warn sends a shiver down my flesh. “What do you mean, warn me?” I shift slightly toward him. “Do you know anything about Cillian O’Shea?”

His face twists slightly. “He’s the Irish boy that’s been building a big alliance against the Famiglia. Yeah, I know a lot about Cillian O’Shea.”

“I met him a couple days ago. He said he knows me. He said he knows my dad too.”

Dad frowns, looking at the floor. “What the hell did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know, Genaro. What did he mean? Do you know Cillian? Are you working with them?”

He seems bewildered as he takes a step back. He shakes his head rapidly. “No, Mirella, no, not at all.”

“Is that why you’re here to warn me? Because you’re working with Cillian and you plan on backstabbing the Famiglia? Tell me what’s happening, Genaro. If you have any love left in that rotten heart of yours for me, tell me what’s going on.”

He shakes his head rapidly, blinking fast. “You got it all wrong, Mirella. You got it wrong.”

“Genaro. Please.”

He looks up and tugs at his hair. It’s a lot thinner than I remember. “I think about you a lot, you know. Growing up and stuff, when you were a kid. We used to sit in your bed and read stories every night. I’d lie on the couch with you and throw you in the air. We’d run around the house, just doing laps and laughing. You were so damn small back then. I don’t know where that little baby went.”

“You ran out and I grew up. That’s what happens, you prick. Now tell me your connection to Cillian O’Shea.”

But he’s backing off now, head shaking rapidly. He waves his hands in the air like he might ward me off, but I advance on him. I’m not letting him escape.

“This was a mistake. You don’t need you know, you never did. Your mother was right from the start.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I came to warn you about the family. I wanted to tell you—they’re not what they seem. They won’t believe you when the time comes, and I just—” He rubs his eyes and he’s not making sense anymore, he’s just rambling, saying vague shit that doesn’t add up to anything.

“Dad,” I say, desperate to get something, anything that might help me survive what’s coming. “Why did you leave us back then? And why the hell are you back now?”

“I didn’t leave you, kiddo,” he says, sounding like my dad again, and I don’t think I can handle this. Suddenly, I stop advancing, and all I want him to do is get the hell out of here. I don’t want my father back and I don’t want to be in the same room as his man right now. “I left your mother. She never wanted you to know the whole story and I accepted that. I never wanted you to hate me for it.” He turns away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Mirella, just be careful okay? You don’t know the whole truth.”


Tags: B.B. Hamel Dark