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“I just can’t see him doing it. Why would he risk the alliance like that?” My brother looked at me for understanding.
A calm sense of certainty settled in my bones, telling me it was time.
I lifted my chin and looked deep into my brother’s eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you before. I wanted to, but the time never seemed right, and I was struggling with my own emotions. I quit talking because I knew that Dad was behind Mom’s death. He orchestrated the car crash to keep her quiet.”
Sante’s face contorted with shock and horror as I continued.
“Before the crash, Mom told me in the car that she found out Dad was putting a hit out on Uncle Agostino and was going to take over the family. That’s why we were on our way to see him that day—to warn him. Dad must have found out and sabotaged the breaks. I wasn’t supposed to be with her that day, but Dad assumed Mom told me everything when I survived the crash. That’s why he kept us apart all those months and didn’t let me out of his sight. He didn’t want me to try to escape with you or get word to the Donatis about what had happened.”
“Escape?” He shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about? None of this makes sense.”
I tried to reach for him, but he shrugged off my touch. “I know you have a different relationship with him than me, but if you try to set that aside and look at it objectively, you’d see the truth—the way he treated me after her death. The odd behavior. The secrets.”
I could see the uncertainty setting in. I was making progress. “If Dad knows about the meeting, is he planning to do something about it?”
Sante’s brows drew together worriedly when he finally looked at me again. “He didn’t tell me, exactly, but I overheard him talking once.”
“Sante, tell me,please.”
“I couldn’t figure out why he’d be talking to the Albanians, but now, I’m wondering if he hired them for this. Like mercenaries.”
My heart dropped all the way to my feet.
The Albanians had it out for the Irish. They’d jump at the chance to kill Conner. Sante had no idea of the catastrophic news he’d just unleashed.
“Oh God. Sante. We have to warn them.” I yanked my phone from my back pocket and dialed Conner’s number. The line rang, each unanswered tone sounding longer than the last. Once I was sent to voicemail, I tried Bishop with the same results.
Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck.
What was I supposed to do? What if the meeting was already in progress, and they had no idea that my father was coming for them?
Panic sandblasted my insides until I felt helplessly exposed.
“Shit! What do we do?” I cried.
As though my meltdown had the opposite effect on Sante, his self-assurance and conviction seemed to grow by the second. Spine stiffening, he squared his shoulders. “I know where they’re at. The meeting shouldn’t have started yet.”
“I’m going with you,” I asserted, grabbing my purse.
“It’s too dangerous, Em.”
I glared at him. “There is no way I can sit here now. You have to take me with you.”
His lips thinned harshly. “If I do, you have to stay in the car. Period.”
“Fine.” I wasn’t crazy about it, but at least I wouldn’t be left behind. I’d told Conner I wouldn’t leave, but this was too important. He needed to know he was being set up. I just prayed that we weren’t too late.
Sante calledUmberto once we were in the car. The man who had acted as my jailer wasn’t thrilled about Sante joining them but eventually conceded and gave instructions on where exactly to go. The meeting was happening at an old warehouse by the mafia-owned docks, but we’d needed to know where our father was hiding out in wait.
I could see why they chose the location. Aside from the abandoned nature of the warehouse, the entire area was piled with crates and equipment, not to mention cars parked everywhere. It appeared the dock workers used the lot for parking though it was far enough removed from the river to keep it isolated. So long as we didn’t encounter a shift change, the place was vacant.
We parked a ways out, not wanting to be seen.
Sante instructed me to duck down into the floorboards. “Stay here, understood?”
A part of me was proud of how mature he sounded, while another part wanted to insist I’d do what I damn well wanted. I wasn’t happy about being stuck yet again hiding in a car while a man I cared about went out into danger to protect me, but I wouldn’t help matters by arguing.
I didn’t follow him, but I did peak out the window enough to watch my brother slip away from the car. He walked to an old shed at the entrance to the lot—probably some sort of security checkpoint when the factory had been operational. Once Sante was close enough, Umberto exited the shed between them and the warehouse, keeping them hidden from the men inside.
