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“Michael will come around,” Enzo assures me.
I’m not so sure. “I don’t know. I compared him to my father and said he was just as bad as him.”
“Do you still feel that way?” Enzo asks curiously.
Reliving the memories with Gabriella and Enzo reminds me that there is good in Michael despite his behavior on the beach. One negative moment doesn’t define a person, especially when so many positive moments prove otherwise. I’m not the kind of person to judge someone on that. I don’t have the right to, given my choices.
“No.”
“Then don’t worry.” Enzo speaks like it’s that simple and even shrugs a single shoulder for good measure.
“How can I not worry?”
“Because of this.” He holds his phone out to me so I can read a series of texts between him and Michael that started when we first got back to the penthouse.
My eyes blur as I read the texts several times over. He loves me. Even after everything, he loves me. And I love him.
Overwhelmed by a sudden realization, I collapse into Gabriella’s embrace as emotions crash over my battered body and soul. The tears return, and I do nothing to stop them. Because I’m not sad. I’m not scared. I’m loved. I’m free.
And I know then that whatever consequences might come from this choice to love Michael, we would survive it. Together.
Liam wiggles beneath my hand, pulling me from my sleep. The familiar smell of a dirty diaper greets my nose, and I sit up with a grimace. The living room is dark except for the muted light and sound coming from Enzo’s phone. He notices me and sets his phone down.
“Everything okay?” Enzo asks, his voice quiet to avoid waking Gabriella, who’s fast asleep on the other end of the couch.
“Liam just needs a diaper change.”
Liam tells me a story in a rush of babbles as I change his diaper. The familiar sound of the elevator doors opening echoes down the hall. My heart lifts at the idea that Michael’s home, only to be shattered by the sound of shouting followed by a ringing gunshot.
“Where is she?”
I freeze as my father’s voice drifts down the hallway. A dozen questions race through my mind, each one as terrifying as the man responsible for raising them. How the hell did he find me? How did he get into the penthouse? What about Gabriella and Enzo? There was a gunshot. Are they okay?
“Who?” Enzo asks. He sounds a little too casual and cheeky, but alive.
“Don’t play dumb with me, boy,” my dad snaps, his anger pushing through his tone. “My worthless daughter.”
“Oh, her? She’s not here.”
“She’s with Michael.” Gabriella’s voice is like steel and sends relief through me, knowing she’s okay, too.
“See, now I know you’re lying. I know for a fact she’s here,” Dad seethes. “One more chance.”
“You’ve made a big mistake,” Gabriella warns my dad with the fire the DiAngelos are known for fueling her threat. “My father—”
“Your father will be dead by the end of the night or under such a tight leash, he’ll wish he were dead. Now answer the fucking question. Where is Rosaleen?”
They both stay silent, and my stomach sinks because my father is just crazy enough to do something cruel. The bang of a second gunshot cracks through the air, and I jump at the same time that Gabriella screams.
I glance back at Liam resting in his crib. He’s a little fussy, but the pacifier in his mouth is keeping him quiet. For now. My feet are moving before I can second-guess my decision. I can’t allow Gabriella and Enzo to pay for my secrets, and I’ll do anything to keep Liam safe.
“Tell me!” Dad shouts. “Or the next one goes through his fucking head.”
“Stop!” I cry as I walk into the main living space. The sight before me guts me. Gabriella is cradling Enzo’s limp and bleeding body in her arms. She looks up at me in panicked grief, and I rush over. Enzo’s blood soaks my pants when I kneel beside them, but I don’t care. I place two fingers on Enzo’s neck, searching for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there and steady.
“Well, well, well,” Dad drawls. “There she is.”
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