He rushes into the room, his face white with fear as he scans the chaos. His eyes connect with mine and his shoulders sag with relief.
I take his outstretched hand and he helps me off the floor, cradling me against his broad chest and cupping the back of my head. “It’s okay now, bambina. You’re safe.”
I want to cry, to curl into a ball and nestle in his embrace until I wake up from this nightmare.
But I can’t quite do it.
Because I’m still in the middle of this storm and I know things about this man trying to comfort me, things I probably always suspected but never wanted to admit.
I go stiff when he wraps his coat around my shoulders and guides me outside. A black SUV is parked on an angle near the containers. Dad’s driver is standing in front, a gun at his side.
The back door of the vehicle whips open and Mom rushes out from behind the tinted glass.
“Ana,” she sobs. Pulling me into her arms, she kisses my cheek and squeezes me to her. “We’ve been looking for you for weeks.”
“How’d you find me?” I mumble against her shoulder.
“We’ve been tracking the Candellas ever since this happened,” Dad answers. “I knew they’d come after you. They don’t care who shot their son. They’re just using it as an excuse!” he spits. “I’ve had someone on the inside, watching their every move.”
Brutus lumbers out from behind the car, giving me a hard glare before resting against Dad’s SUV.
He works for my father? Then why the hell did he let me get beat so bad?
Why did he chase me?
Dad reads my angry expression and interprets it correctly. Patting my shoulder with a gentle smile, he explains. “He couldn’t risk giving himself away. I told him to make sure you stayed alive. But we need him to remain on the inside.”
I glare at my father. He doesn’t even look sorry.
Brushing his finger over my swollen eye, he gently whispers, “Bruises heal, bambina. You will be fine. You must understand, we always have to watch them. That’s how we stay ahead.” Mom rubs my back while Dad keeps talking, his voice hard and unforgiving. “They cannot be trusted. They are crooked in business…and in life.” His voice cracks.
I pull away, looking up at Mom’s broken expression before turning to my father. “She said I had a brother. Is that true?”
Mom whimpers and covers her mouth.
“Why did you never tell me?”
“It was too painful.” Dad’s face crests with unresolved agony. “Your mother was distraught and could not move on until we wiped him from the house. When you were born, we decided it was best to treat you like our one and only.” He smiles and pats my shoulder, but there’s still something in his gaze that’s holding me back. “Enough talking now. We need to get you home.”
Mom gently tugs my arm, urging me to the car.
I stand my ground. “I can’t go home.”
Mom whips back to face me. “Christiana, no!” she snaps, fear dancing across her face. “Stop this craziness.” Her eyes dart to my father, then back to me. Her gaze is bright with desperation. “Please.”
I look away from her, silently begging my father—one last thread of futile hope that what I think is true actually isn’t. “This has to end. I know he’s your brother but he killed an innocent—”
“Christiana, get in the car.” Dad’s face takes on a hard edge.
In spite of my fear, I shake my head and grit out, “Robbie didn’t kill your son. He had nothing to do with any of that! He deserves justice.”
Dad steps over to me, getting in my face. His nostrils flare, his eyes ringed with rage. “He was a Candella! You let that boy touch you. Marco only did what was right.”
“Robbie was innocent! He was a good person and didn’t deserve to die. I’m not going to stand by while another killer goes free!”
“He is your uncle, not just some killer.”
I raise my chin, not backing away from my father’s venom. “He pulled the trigger on an unarmed man. He’s no different than any of them! And he can rot in jail for all I care.”
Dad’s face puffs with anger. He raises his hand.
“Lucca, no!” Mom darts between us. “Enough! She is already hurt. Please, just let me take my baby home.”
The sound of Mom’s broken whisper makes Dad fold. Stepping away, he nods and tips his head at the car.
But I’m not ready to stop fighting.
Shaking my head, I take a trembling step away from my mother while turning to my father with a heart-wrenching appeal. “Please, you can’t condone this. You have to let me testify. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Family first!” he booms, his eyes popping wide. “He is my brother.”
“He’s the devil. He killed a harmless teenager who was nothing but nice to me! Robbie was my friend!”
Dad’s dark eyes gleam, his voice softening with a husky reply that feels like a knife blade. “He was only doing what I told him to.”
I flinch, staggering away from the righteous fury in my father’s gaze. No. I didn’t want that to be true. I didn’t want to believe it!