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He watched me in silence, waiting for me to gather my thoughts. Min-joon and I met when we were in college. I’d been studying animation and computer science at UCLA, and he was going to film school. We’d been roommates for eight years, and he still didn’t have a fucking clue who my people were and where I came from. It was safer for everyone that way.
“I’m going home,” I started.
He shrugged. “You look like you’re about to face a firing squad, not visit some assholes you haven’t seen in a decade.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be back,” I finished.
Min-joon frowned, his brown eyes darkening as he realized I was completely, utterly, and absolutely serious. It was the only way to get my sister out of this mess without any loss of life.
The head of an Irish-American gang wouldn’t marry into the mafia for love. He needed something only marriage would give him. And the only reason my father would agree to a wedding was if the situation was so dire he had no choice but to ask the Irish for help. This wasn’t a problem I’d be able to solve in a day, or a week, or even a couple of months.
“Okay, bestie,” he whispered, standing and taking my hand, pulling me into a hug. “How soon until I can come visit?”
My laugh turned into a sob, and I turned my face into his side, letting ten long years worth of tears finally fall.
Packingup my entire life in Los Angeles was easier than expected. I could theoretically run my company from anywhere, and Min-joon promised not to burn the house down or crash my car in my absence. I had friends, but this was Hollywood. Folks flitting off to see the world on a whim happened all the time.
Perhaps being on the East Coast could expand opportunities for my company in New York City. I shook my head. No, I was going home for Sofia. I was going to stay as long as it took to make sure she and my parents survived the disappointment of her big news, and then I was gone again. I hadn’t left everything—fuckingeverything—to move across the country at eighteen just to get sucked back in a decade later because my sister couldn’t figure out how to use birth control.
Jesus.
Dwelling on the unfairness of it all wasn’t going to help me, and it certainly wasn’t going to help Sofia.
It was late afternoon when I arrived in New York. I’d have to get a move on if I planned on arriving at my family’s home before dinner.
I ducked into the business class arrivals lounge to freshen my face and change my shirt. The violet silk brought out the deep tan of my sunkissed skin. I yanked my dark brown hair back into a low ponytail and painted my lips a matte red. My mother wouldn’t approve of the low-cut blouse or the bright lip color, but I needed to establish up front that I wasn’t playing by the same rules as I had as a child. To the mob, appearances were everything.
I hailed a porter to grab my bags, including the hard case I’d checked my gun in, and then picked up my rental car. Yes, it was a giant black Land Rover. No, I wasn’t concerned about its emissions. I wanted something I could ram through the locked gate of my parents’ compound, if it came to that.
My thoughts were dark. Not for the first time on this trip, I regretted picking up the phone when Sofia called, revealing her pregnancy and pending nuptials. She and I spoke rarely these days. When I first left for school, I’d called her every week, but our lives drifted further and further apart as I separated myself from the family that birthed and raised me.
Too soon, I arrived at my parents’ mansion, ostentatiously large in a city where locals couldn’t afford rent anymore due to gentrification. A guard scurried over after I flashed my lights at the gate.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. This is a private residence. They’re not expecting visitors tonight.”
I took pity on him, passing him my driver's license.
The young man gaped at me. “I’m so sorry, miss, I’ll let you in right away.” He might not recognize my face, but he sure as fuck recognized my name.
I drove up the short driveway and parked by the front door. My eyes closed of their own volition, and I leaned my forehead on the top of the steering wheel, dreading the inevitable. The moment of no return was when I drove through the gate. The guard had already called my father’s head of security. Still, it felt that stepping out of my vehicle and onto the gravel driveway was just as momentous a decision.
Before I could collect my thoughts, Alexi stood at my door, opening it and welcoming me home. I stepped out of the SUV into the cool night air.
“Piccolina,” he exclaimed, enveloping me in a warm hug. “It has been too long.”
I stepped back to look at my father’s head of security, putting distance between us. Middle age had been kind to the man. His figure was still trim, and his gray hair lent him an air of merry kindness. I knew that air was false. Alexi would cheerfully murder anyone who threatened my family. When I left, he’d threatened to kill me if I spilled my family’s secrets.
That’s not why I kept my mouth shut, though. Despite the kidnapping and the horrific childhood I’d suffered, I still loved these assholes, and their absence in my life had left a gaping hole in my heart.
Alexi, though, could go fuck himself for threatening a sixteen-year-old who’d just had to execute her kidnapper.
I gestured to the back of the car. “I’ve got luggage. Would you have it taken to my room?”
He grabbed my wrist. “Tonight is not a good night for antics, Ginevra. They have company.”
I scoffed.He didn’t know antics from the hole in his ass. This wasn’t a game, this was going to be a fucking rampage. I twisted away from him, plastering a smile on my face. “Just so there aren’t any surprises, I’m packing, Alexi.”
He raised his eyebrows. “In your family home?”
