“Can’t you just have him extradited to Australia?”
“I could, but I won’t. This is personal for me, and I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.” I grimace because, as much as I understand why his father needs to pay for his actions, I wish he’d do it legally. The room falls silent for a moment before he changes the subject. “What about you, cupcake? What does Emily Ashford wish for?”
To meet my half-siblings is my first thought. A permanent life with him and his niece—a real family—would be at the top of my list, though, but I don’t want to scare him off, so instead I say, “An RV.”
“A motor home?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” I reply, playfully slapping his chest. “You make it sound like it’s a ridiculous wish.”
He moves me off his chest and sits up. “Why wish for an RV?”
“I want to travel Australia.”
“Are you planning on leaving us?” When I don’t answer immediately, he shakes his head and shuffles to the edge of the bed, flinging his legs over the side. “Un-fucking-believable. I finally put myself out there. I finally gave in to everything I’d been fighting, convincing myself you wanted this too, and you’ve been planning to take off all along.”
“No,” I say, the word with assertion, as I scramble across the mattress and quickly wrap my arms around his waist, stopping him before he stands. “It’s not what you think. I don’t want to leave, I love being here with you and Peach.”
“Then why would you wish for an RV, Emily?” he growls, scrubbing his hand down his face.
I rest my backside on my haunches, but I don’t release my hold on him. Instead, I double down and tighten my grip.
“When I got my first part-time job, I started saving. Iwanted to travel the world. Then my parents split, and my dad moved away, so my plans changed. I wanted to visit Hong Kong to see my dad. He kept finding reasons for me not to come, and after a while I stopped trying. So I changed the dream. That’s where the RV came in. If I couldn’t go overseas, I’d travel my own beautiful country instead. I used to see all the backpackers come through Griffith during fruit-picking season, before I moved away. They weren’t much older than me. It looked like freedom and fun.”
Dominic turns, angling his body toward me. There’s a lot he could say, but he picks the one thing that hits hardest. “Your dad made excuses so you wouldn’t visit him?”
I let go of him as I drop my gaze. “Yeah, he did, and still does.”
Tears sting my eyes when Dominic grasps my chin and brings my face back to meet his. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“When I was sixteen,” I answer, my voice sightly cracking. “He remarried. I have two half-siblings I’ve never met.”
A tear slips from my eye, slowly cascading down my cheek. Deep lines form on Dominic’s forehead as he leans in and captures the tear with the tip of his tongue. “I don’t like seeing you cry,mia tortina,” he murmurs as he rests his forehead against mine. “I like people hurting you even less. One day soon, I plan to fly to Italy, hunt down my father, and seek revenge for my mother’s death. I may need to make a stopover in Hong Kong on the way home.”
A small, sharp gasp passes my lips. “Please don’t kill him,” I whisper.
“My father?”
“No mine.”
A smile tugs at his lips as he draws back to meet my eyes. “You have no problem with me killing mine, just not yours?”
I lift one shoulder. “I’d rather it all be done legally, butif this is what you need to find peace, I’ll back you all the way.”
His eyebrows jump so high, they almost reach his hairline. “You will?”
“It sounds like your dad deserves it,” I admit. “Mine just needs a sharp right hook, or a swift kick to the balls.”
The loud, boisterous laugh that breaks free from Dominic is so unlike him … so unexpected, that it startles me for a second.
Chapter 41
Dominic
All eyes are on Emily and me as soon as we enter the Mancini kitchen for breakfast, hand in hand. Lucia is the first to react, with a loud, “Whoop, whoop,” as she raises her arms high in the air.
I roll my eyes when she brings her bent fingers down to her face, blows on her blood red nails, and then wipes them on her chest smugly. I glance at Emily and find her beaming.
“D … Emmy,” Lil’ Peach squeals as she clambers off her seat and runs in our direction. The smile lighting up her sweet face has my lips curving at the corners.
