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A niggling feeling took root, and suddenly my feet were carrying me away from the puny, run-down diner. I pulled out my phone and opened the app for Julietta’s bank. The past few tries had been blocked, her password changed, and information hidden as though a professional had helped her.
When I tried her mother’s birthday again, the red error message popped up. I keyed in her own birthdate. All things I’d tried before. Hell, I’d even punched in my own, hoping she was feeling nostalgic.
I closed the app, loaded Facebook, and found her best friend’s profile. Arie’s birthdate was fully listed. I tsked, making a mental note to chastise the foolish girl, before typing the combo into Julietta’s banking app.
When her account information loaded, my heart nearly exploded from pure shock. The withdrawal for a tight five grand sent my blood heating. I clicked on it, expanding the info. It was coded—a smart move on her part, though I cracked it easily. The phone number was starred out at the end, but the area code was 402.
Omaha, Nebraska.
I turned around, stormed into the diner, and snagged the keys. The guys were on their feet running after me, but I got in the first SUV and sped out of the parking lot without explaining myself. They’d be pissed, but they would follow.
The only thing I could concentrate on was the fact that we finally had a lead on Julietta.
Chapter Thirty-Five
JULIETTA
I stood there, staring at the man before me with what I’m sure was a dumbfounded look on my face.
“Excuse me?” It wasn’t possible. I couldn’t see him clearly, but there didn’t seem to be any resemblance between us. Besides, my mother had only ever said that my father was just some guy she’d slept with at a college party. She’d been too young and never got the guy’s name. It was Darren, Eli, and the others who’d made it seem like the man whose sperm had led to my creation was nothing more than some deadbeat. Certainly not a man who claimed to have known of my existence for years.
His lips curled into a sneer. “You heard me.”
My anger jarred me back into myself. “My mother didn’t know who my father was. How could you possibly be him?”
The man—Morgan—took a step forward, and I responded by backing up. His smile returned. “I kept tabs on your mother. The life I was building for myself meant that I needed to keep a list of everyone I encountered. I knew she bore my child.”
I scoffed. “And you’re just now making yourself known because…?”
“Because Romero has made it his mission to destroy everything I’ve built. So I’ll destroy the only thing he cares about.”
I took an involuntary step back, lifting my chin in a show of defiance that I didn’t feel. The shine of light pouring from his phone highlighted a shadowy figure that shifted above. Shit. “He doesn’t care for me. He let me go.” The words nearly choked me on the way out, but it was abundantly clear that this man was unhinged and looking for a weakness to exploit. I needed to prove that I was not that weakness.
Morgan inched closer, slowly—probably hoping I wouldn’t notice. “He hunts you even now. But don’t worry”—violence and hatred glinted in his eyes—“I made sure to direct him away from here better than you did.”
My stomach swooped. I couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of my mouth. “Where is he?” I wanted him to stay away, but this psycho knowing where Romero was unsettled me.
Morgan laughed. “Louisiana as of this morning. I have men trailing him, but he is a slippery devil.” His grin widened. “Not slippery enough, however.”
Too far away. I didn’t need Romero to save me from this madman, but I couldn’t help him. Couldn’t warn him if anything went awry. My heart pounded, and I forced my breathing to remain even. Clearly, the man claiming to be my father had plans for Romero. And despite all of my running and desperate attempts to escape, I was woven too deeply into the fabric of his life.
I steeled my spine. “What do you want from me?”
His movements were almost too subtle in the darkness, but I caught the flash of a knife’s edge and froze. He lifted it up, inspecting it with deliberate slowness. The show of dominance had my teeth grinding. “It’s quite simple, really. You come to me, willingly. I use you to bring Romero to his knees, then I tear his empire down and strip him of everything he possesses.”
I lifted a brow. “You’re an idiot if you think any of his possessions mean anything to him.”
Morgan smirked, twirling the blade between his fingers without looking away from me. “Like all men in his company—all men that live the life he does—it’s about power. What do you think he’ll choose when it comes down to you and his influence?”
My stomach dropped. It would be his power. That was the only answer that made sense. He could have given up his life of crime for me and my mom, but he didn’t. And when I left, he could have cast it all aside for me. But he hadn’t. “It won’t be me,” I said, the words barely audible.
Morgan tsked. “Don’t be so sure. He’s been nearly manic in his search for you. If you only saw the trail of bodies he’s left behind…” He barked a harsh, cruel laugh, which only served to grate on my nerves further.
Was he telling the truth? I wanted to believe that Romero was searching for me. But after so many weeks of him not bursting through the door, I’d begun to believe that he hadn’t followed me. That he’d decided not to fight for me.
Did I want him to?
There was triumph in thinking I’d successfully escaped, but sorrow in the fact that Romero hadn’t leveled cities trying to find me.
