“I don’t want to hear it,” he states, and I realize that my father has come back a changed man. He no longer has even an ounce of the care he once did. “Put them on and then you can come down and join us.”
I hesitate momentarily, before I do as I’m told and enter my huge walk-in closet. The white room bursts with bright light, and I approach the far wall where all my hells live. I grab the pair of black Louboutin stilettos I want before I head to my safe. I put the heels on and grab the necklace before locking all my other valuables away. I only leave the closet itself once I know the pearls are in place.
“I know you’ve been living with Maverick, Amelia, and I am not pleased in the slightest. For tonight, you’ll do as I say by putting the pearls on because you’ll find you’ll be listening to me more often,” he comments the moment I leave the room, and I find him sitting on my bed. I stop and stare at him; if he knows about Zane, does he know about Manuel? “Don’t look so shocked. It’s time you stopped being a brat, and it’s time I stopped letting you be one. Zane Maverick is healed, it’s time he dies.”
“It’s not that simple,” I tell him, trying not to allow myself to crack. I have lived on borrowed time, but I never knew it was going to run out this fucking fast, and I am not ready for this to be it. I am still not prepared for the end game.
“Yes, it is,” he snaps back and stands. I watch as he buttons his jacket back up and straightens his arm only to pull his sleeve down and tidy himself up. “You’ve lived some merry life with him, now is the time you did your duty.”
“You do not get to leave for almost a month and then come back and start to throw your weight around again.” My insolence is only worsened by the blatant fact he’s striving to make right on all his wrongs. I’m not someone he can easily push around anymore. “You do not get to control me anymore.”
He grabs my wrist, pulls me back, and looks me in the eyes. I cower, admittedly, when he glowers at me with devilish intention, and I feel a bolt of terror ripple through me. He definitely hasn’t come home to reconcile and build bridges. This man that ran away to Italy isn’t even remotely close to my father. Salvatore Abbiati finally let the devil win, and he’s enjoying his time here.
“You’ll do as I say or I’ll make all your worst nightmares come true, Bambina,” he says, using a sentimental nickname as if to buffer his rage. “I’m no longer living with empty threats, but quite the opposite. The new Salvatore won’t hesitate to sell you, I’ll just do it.”
“Well, the new Salvatore will see himself without a daughter soon,” I hiss, the words are venomous and unforgiving and I want him to feel every piece of my hatred toward him. “So you get a choice now, Papà, Zane Maverick or keeping your daughter.” I pout, sarcastically mocking him for his decision. Either way, I’m out of this family the next opportunity I have, so the choice is really his to have. “I’ll leave you to decide.”
I take my leave, and I’m only carried briskly by my need to find my brother and really work out what in the hell is going to happen. I rush down the stairs, keeping in character by welcoming guests, but I don’t stick around to schmooze or chat up a storm. I want to get to the main room as quickly as I can. Preferably, before my father does. Lucky for me, as I close in on the doors, I see the sight of my brothers and ease begins to trickle in and dissolve the terror in my system.
I see Carlo standing with Enzo and some other men unknown to me. I make a beeline for him, grab his arm, and motion to the side of the room, telling him I need to talk to him immediately. He excuses himself, and I apologize for my rudeness before we leave the crowds for a quiet corner.
“How close are you to getting Manuel out of here?” I ask almost immediately. “I need to know because Papà isn’t here for free rides now. He’s here for business, and his first is his family.” I watch Carlo’s face darken, and he even attempts to loosen his tie a little. “If he’s here to restore order, Gio is sure to tell Papà about Manuel’s recent admission.” I can hear in my voice that I’m frightfully frantic over what will happen. All evening my mind has calculated the many ways in which Manuel will be shamed for his defamation and every single one ends in bloodshed. “I don’t want him caught up in this any longer, Carlo. I need him to not to be one of us now more than ever.”
“And what about you?” Carlo asks, taking my hand to lead me to a quieter spot in the room. “Do you think I enjoy watching you strive to keep Papà happy and yourself happy? Do you think I ever wanted you to grow up to be a murderer, Amelia?”