“Escape,” I whisper. He nods.
“I know it’s not ideal, but I’ll do what I have to,” he promises. “His house is heavily guarded. That’s where the problem lies.”
I have a way. If I’m going to use it, now would be the time to tell him. I won’t get this chance again.
“There’s… a way,” I start. His eyes widen slightly.
“What?”
“There’s a boat in the cave on the beach. There’s no surveillance. He won’t see me, but I’ll need help once I get there.”
“God, Emelia. Are you certain of this?”
I trust Candace. She told me about the boat and the way out because she could see everything that was happening was wrong.
“Yes. But I don’t know when I could do it. I’m practically watched all the time when I’m not with him. I have my phone, but if I use it, I’ll have to use it that one time to call you and have the plan ready.”
Nothing will happen before next week. The look on Dad’s face tells me he knows that too.
“I’m sorry. We can make this happen. We have to try.”
“Yes,” I say, but my stomach twists into knots.
“I’ll gather more allies and make sure they don’t come after you. We need to do this as soon as you see a clear path,” Dad says.
“Okay.”
There’s something I have to know first though. I have to hear the truth from my father. The truth of the past. I want his sto
ry.
“Dad. I heard some things. Is it true that you destroyed their family?”
I want to hear his version of the story. When he nods in confirmation, I know I can trust him.
“I did, Emelia. It’s not something I’m proud of. Please… don’t hate me. I’m doing my best to fix things.”
“I don’t know if this can be fixed.” They hate him, and the hate has rubbed my way too.
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. What matters is I won’t allow you to suffer for my mistakes,” he says with determination, then sternness returns to his pale blue eyes.
The curtains pull open, and a chill runs down my spine when Massimo appears.
Dad releases my hands.
“Time’s up,” Massimo says, directing his words at me, ignoring my father completely.
Massimo puts out his hand for me to come to him, and I do, leaving my father’s side. I tremble, and my legs are so shaky I fear they might shatter beneath me.
I glance back at Dad as we walk away. Rage changes his features. The tension in his shoulders makes his back ramrod straight.
I don’t question Massimo when he says we’ll be leaving. I keep quiet and allow him to take me back to the car, guards at our side. I follow him like a puppet being guided by my master.
What I do as I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and watch the beautiful outline of his profile is think of my escape.
Betrayal fills my mind as we set off down the road. Massimo is always saying, it’s not about that.
I’m going to borrow his phrase and apply it to myself.