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I smiled at her, a tight-lipped smile whose expression I’d learned from Miguel himself. “But I’m here, aren’t I? So, clearly, I’m not dead. As much as Miguel wants me dead, here I am, still alive and kicking.”
“Miguel—Miguel is your father. Have you gone to him? Told him you’re free? The Black Hand—”
“Knows I’m not dead, just like they know Miguel is a snake in the grass,” I hissed out, the venom in my voice so strong Gianna flinched. “So I take it you had no idea Miguel was the one who had me kidnapped and handed over to the Greenback Serpents?”
Her mouth parted, and she looked confused, a deer in headlights, too stunned at what was racing toward her at a blinding, break-neck speed. I took that to mean she didn’t know.
Eventually, she whispered, “You lie.”
“I don’t. I don’t know how long you’ve been with him, but Miguel Santos is a terrible, terrible man. A horrible human being who’s only in it for himself. He had me kidnapped and gave me to the Serpents, hoping they’d torture me and kill me all because my mother dared to have an affair with someone else. He had her killed, and now he blames me.”
I did not tell her that I was not his real daughter; that’d be getting into too much. Right now, Gianna would only know however much I decided to tell her.
“If you do something that angers him, he won’t hesitate to have you killed, you know,” I told her. “He might have money, but he is a bad man. A devil. He’s made my life miserable, and if I let him get away with this, he won’t stop with you. He’ll destroy everyone he can, provided it brings him to where he wants to be: the top.”
“No.” Gianna shook her head as she clung to what she wanted to be true, but her denial sounded half-hearted. “No, he wouldn’t do that. He would never hurt me—”
“Do you think you’re that special to him? Do you think he wouldn’t lay a hand on you or that baby in your belly if you angered him? If you betrayed him? I was his daughter, Gianna, and he threw me to the wolves and used it in his climb to power. You’ll never be safe with him, and neither will your son.”
She did not argue with me then, maybe because she was finally facing the facts, realizing I wasn’t lying to her. The only thing she did was slump her shoulders and squeeze her eyes shut.
“I’m only here because he didn’t know the Serpents have a bigger vendetta against him. I want to take him down, Gianna, and I’m going to do it today. You won’t be walking down that aisle. I will.”
That got her to look at me, and I noticed the extra water in her eyes. “Will you kill him?”
“Does it matter? Do you really love him, or did he force you into all of this? Did he even give you a choice?” The look she gave me after that told me enough, and I said, “I’m going to do what I have to today, Gianna. Can I trust you to be good, or do I have to tie you up?”
Zander chose that moment to enter the room, his gun in hand, and Gianna nearly pissed herself when she saw him. He shut the door behind him, leaning on it with his back so no one else could enter.
“You’re going to stay here while I walk down the aisle,” I told her. “Zander’s going to stay with you, make sure you don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to hurt you, Gianna, but if you try to get in my way—”
“I don’t have anyone else,” Gianna whispered.
“What?”
“I don’t… my father gave me to Miguel because he owed him money. I can’t go back there. I can’t.” A tear fell down her face. “I have nowhere to go.”
Her father basically gave her to Miguel in the same way Miguel had given me to Rocco—only it was a permanent gift, not a single-night. The way her voice cracked, how tears fell from her eyes; I could tell she wasn’t lying. She had nowhere to go. Miguel, as shitty as he was, was now her only family. She had no other options.
And I was about to wipe that option off the board and leave her with no one. In the eyes of the law, I was still Miguel’s daughter. I was of age, so I’d inherit everything. I’d get his money, the house here in Cypress, the whiskey business. Everything.
I’d get everything, and Gianna would be left with nothing.
Gianna was who I could’ve been, if things were different. I could easily see myself in her place. She had nowhere to run, no one to turn to; she was basically forced to believe in Miguel and his schemes.
Except, the only difference was, when Miguel had given me to Rocco, I’d found hope in Father Charlie… my real father. Gianna had no one.
My eyes flicked to Zander, just for a brief moment. The golden cross beneath my shirt had gotten warm from my body heat, the weight of it now comfortable instead of it being merely a reminder of what I’d lost.
When my stare returned to Gianna, that’s when I knew. If she’d let me, I’d be her Father Charlie.
“I need to do this, Gianna,” I told her. “There’s so much more to the story you don’t know. The things Miguel did… are unforgivable. I am his comeuppance.” I was slow in setting my ivory gun aside, and I reached for the golden chain around my neck. I pulled it up and over my head; the chain was long enough it did not need to be unclasped. I took the golden cross in my palm and offered it to her. “Hold onto this for me. I’ll be back for it.”
“What—it’s beautiful,” she sniffed, measured in taking it from me. Her tawny fingers ran over the jewels inlaid in the metal.
“It belonged to a priest that saved my life,” I whispered, and as memories of Father Charlie flashed in my mind, my lips curled into a soft smile. “I’m not like Miguel, Gianna. Once Miguel is gone, I can take care of you.”
Her hand closed around the cross before falling to her lap. “I have nothing to—”
