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“Keep telling yourself that. I’ll let you see his body when it’s done. Your old man knows best, Jess. Always has.” A sad smile forms on his lips. “You’re a lot like your mother. She was a stubborn bitch too.”
“Don’t talk about my mother like that. Don’t you dare.”
He turns on his heel, laughing as he walks out, slamming the door shut behind him. It clicks locked a moment later.
The door’s echo fades, leaving us enveloped in a more profound silence. The darkness seems to thicken around us, tangible and suffocating. Yet, as the initial shock of my father’s betrayal dissipates, a flicker of resolve ignites within me. I check my pocket. “It’s time,” I say out loud.
“For what?” Emma asks.
“I wanted to give him a chance but he’s lost. Truly lost.”
“What are you talking about?”
I lean toward her ear to whisper as quietly as I can. “Alessandro gave me a tracker. He’ll be able to see where we are.”
She nods. “Will the signal work from a basement?”
Doubt begins to gnaw at me. What if she’s right? What if my father’s right? What if Alessandro doesn’t come? The thought is a cold hand around my heart.
But no, I can’t afford such thoughts. He’s shown me time and again his strength, his dedication.
“He will come,” I assert, my voice stronger than I feel, a declaration meant as much for Emma’s reassurance as my own. I reach into my pocket and activate the tracker.
TWENTY-FOUR
Alessandro
I’m two minutes out when the tracker springs to life. My eyes flick to my cellphone. Jess’s signal blinks back at me, miles from where Garibaldi demands I be. Decision time.
My gut twists, torn between vengeance and the visceral need to protect her.
Tony catches my hesitation, reading the storm behind my eyes. “Boss?” he probes, voice steady.
“Stop the car,” I say, the words tasting of lead. “I’ve got Jess’s location. Five miles out, opposite direction.”
Tony’s silence is contemplative, a stark contrast to the urgency pulsating through my veins. “If you don’t go after Garibaldi, you’ll never get him. He’ll run.”
He leans forward. “What does your gut tell you? Revenge or the girl?”
My gut is a riot of instinct and emotion, a tumultuous sea with Jess as its north star. “My gut says Jess. It’s always Jess,” I confess, the admission a quiet revelation of my shifting priorities.
“Then that’s where you need to be,” Tony states, unequivocal. “I’ll take half the team to Garibaldi. We keep him busy, buy you time.”
A year ago, I would have balked at such a plan, insisted on steering the ship. But love, Jess’s love, has taught me the value of trust, of shared burdens. “You think it’s a trap?” I probe, seeking his counsel in a way I once would have eschewed.
“It could be. But you’re not going in alone,” Tony replies, his loyalty a beacon. “Kill them all.”
The resolve in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders, echoes the resolve in my heart. “Half with him, half with me,” I command, the decision made. My men nod, a unified front ready to face whatever darkness lies ahead.
As I peel away from the convoy, heading towards Jess, towards the beacon of her tracker, the weight of leadership feels different. It’s no longer a burden borne alone but a shared load, lightened by the trust and camaraderie of those I call my own.
Jess’s safety over vengeance, her life over the satisfaction of retribution—it’s a choice that once would have torn me in two. Now, it’s as clear as the night sky above. Love, in its infinite complexity, has honed my instincts, tempered my rage with reason.
“I’m coming, Jess,” I whisper to the empty car, a promise on the wind. My love for her, a compass guiding me home.
I stop fifty feet from the tracker’s location. It’s a brownstone with two armed men at the top of the stoup. I move swiftly until I’m twenty feet away, aiming my gun at them. I pause, hold my breath, and fire twice in quick succession.
They both drop and I’m already climbing the stoup, shoving open the door.
