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“You didn’t tell me,” Dante whispers.
I shrug, wiping the last of the tears off my face. “Enzo and my father became friends later in life, I thought you knew that. I thought you knew that they were going up against the Gallos together.”
“I didn’t know,” Dante says desperately, his hazel eyes searching my face.
I keep my face blank. “Now you know. So kindly, get out of my car.”
“Mia, wait, please—” Dante starts, but I shove him again.
“Get the fuck out of my car!” I nearly scream, and Dante slowly gets out of the passenger seat.
Before he can start to speak, I take off, tires burning, leaving him there, standing, his shoulders slumped.
It seems to take forever to make it to my father’s house, and all I can do is burst in the door and run to his office, climbing into his lap like a little girl.
“Mia,” my father murmurs, not asking any questions, just pulling me into his arms, letting me sob into his chest. “Cara mia.”
“Papa,” I hiccup.
He doesn’t push me. Doesn’t ask any questions, just holds me until my tears slow.
“If you’re still afraid about the Gallos, you shouldn’t be. Papa took care of it,” he soothes, rubbing my back.
I pull away and look at him, the hint of a weak smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. Dante was right about one thing – my father is just as cut-throat as any other wiseguy when it comes to the people he loves.
I can’t believe that Dante never cared about me. I can’t believe I let myself believe that he would fall in love with me, if I just loved him enough. Now I’m stuck alone with a bun in the oven.
“Papa,” I say softly. “I need to move back home.”
Papa frowns, looking down at me. “Did Dante hit you?”
I shake my head. “No, nothing like that.”
“Good. I didn’t want to have to kill him,” my father says, clearly joking, but given everything, I don’t find it very funny. I force a weak smile anyway.
“We just have irreconcilable differences,” I say softly.
Papa nods. “Your mother and I had that, too,” he says. “A few times.”
I can’t help but chuckle even though my voice is shaky. “You’re going to be a grandfather,” I say quietly, so quietly that Papa blinks and cups my chin in his hand to get me to look at him.
“What did you say,cara mia?”
“You’re going to be a grandfather,” I say again, my voice stronger.
“Oh,” my father breathes, and hugs me tightly, tears forming in his eyes. “Oh, Mia, that’s so wonderful.”
I sniffle, hugging him back tightly, still cradled in his lap, and wish that I could believe it’s wonderful, too. Maybe one day, I will. One day, when Dante is out of my life forever.
29
DANTE
I’m not one of those guys that usually drowns my troubles in alcohol. I like to keep my wits about me, even at parties, but tonight, I feel like I need a bottle of whiskey to quiet the demons in my head.
Nico’s in the car with me when I get the text from Alberto about Mia, about how she took off like a bat out of hell. I had gotten to her as quickly as possible, but fat lot of good that did me.
She hates me, and who wouldn’t? I had plotted to kill her father, married her just to get close to him. She’s got all the reason in the world to hate me, to never talk to me again.
