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But his eyes burn, promising swift retribution.
With my father's solid presence reassuring me, the baying press seems a petty nuisance. So I pause before entering the car despite Lucia hissing under her breath. Lifting a hand for attention, I wait for the clamor to subside.
"What happened tonight was an egregious miscarriage of justice. I am innocent of these absurd accusations. I have dedicated my life to helping others through my charitable works. My organizations uplift the vulnerable and give voices to the voiceless." I sweep the crowd with an icy stare. "And I am confident that justice will prevail."
Cameras flash furiously once more, but without waiting for the renewed shouts and questions, I slip into the waiting car. Lucia dives in the other side, and Daddy slides in beside me before rapping on the dividing window. "Drive."
As the media frenzy fades, Lucia twists in her seat to glare at me. "That was foolish, Alessa.Anythingyou say can compromise your case."
Daddy takes my hand, his expression unreadable. But he remains silent. I glare at Lucia defiantly. "I will not cower from those vultures."
"You've handed the prosecution fuel for their case," she snaps. But then she exhales, shoulders sagging slightly. "What's done is done, I suppose. We'll manage it."
I turn my gaze out the window, watching the city streets slide by. Despite my bold words, tension thrums within me. I must present an untouchable facade, but inside, I'm churning with fury and frustration.
Bested by that two-faced snake, Natalie Miller.
My own heart used against me—that's the bitterest pill of all to swallow.
What kind of fool am I, to have so easily succumbed to Natalie's innocent posturing? She played the part of smitten lover convincingly, I'll give her that. All the better to stab me in the back.
Well, two can play this game. I will have my vengeance. But right now, I have other priorities to deal with. Vulnerable lives are hanging in the balance, lives that Natalie didn't bother to consider.
The car slows as we pass through the iron gates fronting my father's Long Island residence. The chauffeur opens my door and I step out. The doors fly open, and I expect my mother, but instead I see Juno and Caitlin. Caitlin runs down to throw her arms around me, but I keep my eyes on Juno. Her face is grimly set, eyes burning just like Daddy's were in the car. There's so much shared history that binds us, for good or ill.
And right now, her solidarity is exactly what I need to strengthen my spine.
Her dark eyes scan me head to toe, cataloging. "You look well enough for someone fresh out of a cell."
I summon a wry smile.
"Juno wentat onceto let your father know," Caitlin tells me, tucking her arm in mine as she leads me up into the house.
Ah, so that's where they went—not to ditch me but to help me. The thought warms me. As much as my cousin and I test each other, we do close ranks when threatened.
And then I hear it, the cry I've been dreading: "Alessa!"
I have to stifle a groan as my mother, tear-stained and over-dramatic as usual, throws herself at me. I pat her back reassuringly as she sobs incoherently, and my father has to come and lead her away.
"Give her a Valium," I mutter at him, and I'm not joking about it.
Juno is really fired up. We seem to have swapped temperaments tonight; she is raging, pacing the floor as we wait for my father to return, vowing bloody retribution on everyone involved in this sting operation. Lucia is on the phone, already trying to get the case against me dismissed.
But I just sit calmly, nursing the drink Caitlin hastily made for me, staring at the carpet.
And imagining all the delightful ways I am going to make Natalie Miller regret her actions, down to her very core.
At last, Daddy returns. He takes one look at me and turns to Juno and Caitlin and Lucia with a smile. "Ladies, I can't thank you enough for your help. But my daughter needs to rest now."
It takes a few minutes, but he shepherds them out. When he comes back, he stands in the doorway, looking at me with a fond expression, until one of my mother's wails from above cuts through the silence. "Come on,principessa," he says. "Let's go have a talk."
* * *
He leads me out to the familiar, ramshackle shed, and then down the secret stairs. Once the doors close behind us at the bottom, the stone walls of my father's underground surveillance room muffle all sound. Here we can speak freely, and I feel my lungs expanding in relief as he puts on some jazz music as a soft background for our discussion. He settles in his usual leather chair. I stay standing, too restless, my damn ass still too sore from that metal bench in the holding cell.
"First things first," I announce. "Elena Martinez."
Daddy gives a slow nod, and I feel a glow of pleasure in his approval despite everything. We've been working to disrupt the Mancini Family's human trafficking ring, and a young woman named Elena Martinez was next in line to be spirited away from their clutches. She managed to get word through that she needed aid.
