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“I faked being brave, looked him in the eye, and I told him I needed to speak with him. When he offered me the seat across from him, I took it, and I told him the truth. It was pure luck, V. The man had an arrangement with the FBI, and nobody knew it. They still don’t. My connection with Francesco Angelone and his desire for that black book, which turned out to be real, was exactly the in Donato needed. Once I proved myself, he treated me like a son, tried to take me into his home after he got me away from Angelone, but I needed to be on the streets for a while to remind myself what I wanted to get away from.”
He’d never openly acknowledged these associations before, even though I knew they existed. I also knew what he needed from me in this moment. “You did what you had to do to survive.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “I’ve always been a little afraid you’d be disappointed in me. I never meant to be in this life, but it’s what happened. I’m just like my father no matter how I try to be anything but.”
“From what you’ve told me, you are nothing like him, Daniel. You refuse to acknowledge it, but you have a heart and a conscience. I see it every day, even though you’re very good at hiding it.”
“You brought that out in me. I never stood a chance before you.”
“Are you still close to Donato? Why haven’t you introduced me?” I didn’t hide the hurt in my voice at the thought of being hidden from someone important to Daniel.
He took my chin in his hand and tilted my head down, his eyes deadly serious. “Donato may have helped me, may be important to me—he may be one of the good guys on the right side of the law—but there are two people I don’t take any chances with. At the end of the day, he is still a Salvatore. I don’t trust anyone but me when it comes to you and Muriella.”
“You didn’t tell me about him because you know how curious I get,” I said, and he gave me a knowing look.
“You get something in your head, and you don’t let go, Princess.”
I cocked my head, wrinkling my nose.“Why the hell would Donato teach you about his business? Isn’t that the kind of thing that should stay in the family?”
Daniel smirked. “Eight children, all girls. He and his wife tried until she couldn’t bear any more children, and he never had a son.”
“I’m glad you have him. He’s your real father.”
He kissed me on the forehead and looked at me with just a little bit of wonder. “I never thought of it that way.”
“I hope I can meet him one day.”
“Don’t push it,” he said warily, gripping my hips.
I cocked my head to the side. “Why’d you say I’m too smart for my own good? Both of my guesses about why you brood on this day were wrong.”
He pulled me closer until our chests touched. “Because the last time I saw my father and the day he died are one and the same.”
Donato.He could help me. He knew a side of Daniel I wasn’t well acquainted with. If I could get to know that facet of the man I loved, maybe I could figure out what was really going on in that head of his. Daniel would hate it, but he had let me go, so there was nothing he could do to stop me.
Chapter Eighteen
Vivian
Eight Years Earlier
Forty-five minutesafter we left my apartment and a state away, we pulled up on the tarmac at Teterboro Airport. A jet awaited our arrival. I looked at Daniel and then out the back window of the car. I didn’t know much about planes, but this looked at least as big as the commercial one I’d taken from Dallas to New York, maybe bigger.
“That yours?” I asked, sounding unimpressed when I wasn’t. It had nothing to do with the plane. Obviously, Daniel had put some thought into this day together, andthatwas what had my attention.
“It is. Suitable transportation for a princess, don’t you think?”
“You tell me.”
He laughed and climbed out of the car, coming around the back to collect me.
We climbed the stairs, instantly greeted by two flight attendants, a pilot, and two co-pilots, all with pleasant smiles on their faces. The female pilot had a firm handshake, her demeanor all business with Daniel as she assured him we were ready to go.
Once we were settled in our seats, one of the cabin stewards served us each a glass of champagne and politely asked us to fasten our seatbelts.
“Cheers,” I said, clinking glasses with Daniel and taking a sip of the bubbly. “Is it too soon to ask where we might be going?”
“You can ask all you want, but you won’t get an answer.” He tossed back some of his champagne. “Fromanyone,” he emphasized, as if he knew I’d already been plotting a trip to the galley as a fishing expedition.
