“I don’t have to ask the specifics because I know Rhys died a hero,” Dad says.
Silently, I nod.
He’s right.
Rhys made sure that no one survived that second explosion, that the men who have been hurting our family are dead. He sacrificed himself to ensure our family’s safety.
“It was wrong of me to interfere in your relationship with Ashton. It’s obvious he cares about you, he’d do anything to protect you, and no matter how much you try to run away from it, you’ll always be the daughter of the mafia.”
I huff under my breath. “I don’t want this life. I didn’t ask for it.”
He sizes me up, his jaw tight. “No, but you didn’t stay behind when Harper was taken. I heard you rushed out of the compound and joined the rest of the team.”
“She’s my best friend, my brother’s wife. It had nothing to do with mafia and everything to do with family.”
Dad stares at me.
“What?”
The sly smirk on his face irritates me. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture, Nova.”
I shrug, annoyed.
“Mafia. Family. It’s one and the same.”
Sighing, I lean back in the chair, placing my arms on the hard armrests that don’t offer even the slightest bit of comfort.
I hate that he’s right and I bite my tongue. “It still should have been a choice, my choice.”
“Which part?” he asks. He adjusts the bed, bringing it down a couple of inches but still sitting up.
“Are you in pain? Do you need me to get the nurse?” I ask, noticing him adjusting the bed.
He waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine. I’m more concerned about you.”
I don’t know why he’s worried about me. I’m fine. But he stares at me, his gaze heavy, filled with unease.
It makes my stomach tumble and I glance out the window into the city streets below.
“You’ve lost a lot in a short time, Nova. More than most. I don’t want you to give up someone else because of a what-if scenario.”
“It’s not a what-if when he made it perfectly clear he intends to work for his father after graduation.”
Why is my father defending Ashton?
“He wants to protect his family. I don’t see the harm in that, but I understand that you do.”
I scoot my chair back, the legs squeaking against the ugly linoleum flooring. “It’s not the protecting family that is the problem. It’s all the death, the violence, the threats that come with it. I don’t want my children to grow up in a world without me or their father because there is always an enemy who wants us dead.”
“Not every child born from mafia parents loses their mother or father. Luca?—”
I cut him off before he can finish his thought. “Luca never wanted to become his father or have any involvement with the mafia. You know the only reason he’s involved is because he no longer has a choice.”
“He’d rather play hockey,” Dad says with disdain, and he sounds so much like Dante, it makes me physically ill.
I stand, preparing to leave, ready to head back when I glance up at the television and my butt falls back into the chair. “Turn that up, will you?”
It’s Harper’s picture on the local news and the media cuts to a press conference about to begin. The police chief of Breckenridge walks onto the stage in front of the press to give his statement and take questions.
