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“I can still help you.” Listen to me, I’m practically begging for permission to beat that man to a pulp. “If he knows something about the Black Orchid Killer, I’ll torture it out of him. I could break him within an hour.”
It wouldn’t be hard, either, but I’d take my time over someone like the mayor. Really make a meal out of it.
“I know you could.” She glances at the others and then back at me. “Maybe it’s unfair to stop you if you really want to do this. Your sisters are as important as my mother.”
I rub my thumb over her lower lip and slowly shake my head. “No, you’re right.”
“He’s your father,” Cassius murmurs. “It’s your decision what happens to him.”
“If it’s what you want, we won’t touch him,” Vinicius assures me.
“What I want most is for everyone in Coldlake to know exactly who Dad is and what he’s done, and I’m not ready to give up on that hope yet. I’m sorry.” Her eyes are suddenly filled with tears. She hates that she still has hope.
I draw her into my arms. “Don’t cry, princess. Never fucking apologize for loving your mom.”
She holds me tight for a second and then pulls back. “If the Black Orchid Killer was in this room right now, would you seek justice, or would you just want him dead?”
“Dead,” I say. I don’t even need to think about it. A monster like that needs to be put down.
The others nod.
Morbid silence stretches through the room. I stare at Chiara’s belly. My woman’s pregnant, and she’s thinking about revenge killings and her piece-of-shit murderer of a father. She should be happy and without stress. I need to do better.
Chiara swipes her fingers under her eyes, a determined expression on her face. “All right. I know what I want to do next.”
“Bambina, you shouldn’t be doing anything. You need to relax after what you’ve been through today.”
She shakes her head. “Women all around the world and throughout history have managed to do amazing things while they’re pregnant, and I will too.” She turns to me. “Lorenzo, will you please take me to Strife?”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. The dodgy dive bar right on the edge of gang territory, also known as the last place on this fucking earth that I want Chiara to be right now. “Why the hell would I take you to Strife?”
“Because I want to talk to Acid. I’m calling in the favor he owes me.”
* * *
“Well,well, well. I’m honored, your highness.”
Acid saunters out from behind the bar, his green eyes gleaming. It’s the middle of the afternoon and there are only a handful of hardened drinkers in the front bar. Through the door into the main bar, two women in G-strings dance onstage toPartitionby Beyoncé.
“Hello, Acid. It’s nice to see you, too.”
“Ah, for a moment I thought you really meant that.” He glances at me, and there’s a flicker of anger in his expression. He still hasn’t forgiven me for pointing a gun in his face and telling him he’s a dead man.
“I do mean it. Can you spare me half an hour of your time?”
Acid’s gaze moves from Chiara to me and back again, as curious as a cat. “Sure. Anything for you, your highness.”
“I’d like to speak to Thane, too. If he’s around.”
Acid takes his phone from his pocket and makes a call. “Thane, her highness is here. Come downstairs like a good boy and pay your respects.”
I could smash his fucking face in for calling Chiara that, and Acid knows it. Chiara, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to mind, and she has her head held high like she really is a queen.
A moment later, we hear heavy footsteps coming downstairs. Thane’s wearing a black tank top and pants with too many pockets and straps. Is it fashion? Are those pockets actually useful? Who fucking knows.
His eyelinered gaze flickers over us and lands on Chiara, and his head tips ever so slightly to one side. His attitude is somewhere between curious and impatient as he folds his arms and waits.
“Good afternoon, Thane.” Chiara turns to Acid. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
