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Dante clicks his tongue, but our father doesn’t. He blinks once, twice, blank-faced. “I know that, son.”
His words land like lead. “You know, and you would still do this?”
“She is going to hurt our family, and that includes you. Being the head of a family like ours isn’t all about giving everyone what they want. Sometimes, tough decisions have to be made. There are sacrifices.”
Not this time. I have to make him see. “You would sacrifice what I want more than anything in the world?”
“I would if what you want most in the world wears a badge.”
Emilia’s voice rings out loud and clear behind me. “I resign.”
It takes a hell of a lot to surprise my father, not to mention the other Santoros in the room. Even Dante reacts in shock, his brows lifting until they practically touch his hairline. “You’re not serious,” he accuses.
“If that’s what it takes?” She looks around, almost daring everyone to meet her gaze. This is not the cowering, tear-stained girl they were expecting. “Dead serious. I quit. I’m not a cop. I’m not a detective. I’m nobody.”
Dante tips his head to the side, smirking. “You’re only saying that to save your neck.”
“So what if I am?” Even now, with everything that’s ever mattered on the line, I still get a charge out of watching Dante’s mouth snap shut. “It’s more than that. I found out something. Actually, two things.”
“This, I’d like to hear,” Papa murmurs the way he does when he’s indulging Guilia. “Go ahead.”
She rolls her shoulders back, and it’s a gesture I’m beginning to love. “First, I don’t want any part of an organization like the one Craig here is a part of. I don’t know what I expected the job would be like, but it’s pretty clear to me now that the concept of justice is bullshit when the bad guys have enough money to fix everything in their favor. I was young and naïve to think I could make a difference. Besides,” she adds with a bitter chuckle. “If it’s true that I have nerve damage, I am not interested in being a desk jockey for the rest of my career. I would rather greet shoppers at Walmart than sit behind a desk.”
“A very mature perspective,” Papa decides, nodding slowly. “Very intelligent. I don’t much appreciate the way you referred to my family, but I can respect your point of view. What was the other point you wanted to make?”
The touch of her hand on my shoulder is soft, like a warm breeze. “If I have to resign to be with Luca, I will because I didn’t know until today that I love him. And if I have to choose between him and my job, there’s no decision to be made. It seems pretty obvious what I need to do.”
She loves me.
The words send a shock wave through my body and leave me aching to hold, touch, and kiss her. I could shout with joy because, finally, there’s a defined purpose to my life that goes beyond family loyalty. Her. Us. That’s what I’m choosing, and I’m not alone.
My brother never did know when to keep his mouth shut. “You’re only saying that because—”
Papa cuts Dante off with a single wave of his hand. “Enough. I hear you, but enough.” His gaze is still trained on Emilia. “This isn’t some last-ditch effort to save your life?”
Rather than answer, she asks, “Mr. Santoro, do you remember our first conversation upstairs?”
“I do.”
“What was one of the first things I asked you? What did I care most about?”
His brow creases. “My son. Whether he was all right or not.”
“And what did I ask for?”
The creases deepen, and this time, he sighs. “To see him.”
She looks up at me, wearing a soft smile. “And after you made it sound like he told you everything about me, did I turn on him? Did I get bitter? Did I curse you out?”
I’m busy staring down at her, but I hear his soft, regretful sigh. Like he gets what she’s driving at and doesn’t like being proven wrong. “You did not.”
Her head swings around until she’s gazing his way. “So I was either very good at lying for somebody who just regained consciousness, or I was being sincere. You’re a man who’s seen everything. I’m sure you have sharp instincts.”
She steps around me, standing front and center before my father in a challenge. I watch in awe at the woman in front of me going head-to-head with Rocco Santoro. “You tell me. Was I lying to save myself?”
She holds my father’s gaze, and he fixes his weathered eyes on her, assessing her life in his hands.
The silence that hangs over the room once her voice fades away is profound. She has rocked me to my foundation. I’m too stunned to react. There’s nothing I can do but stare at her, then at my father.
