by K. I. Lynn
This is my last-ditch effort to free you, that my father can rescue you.
If he fails, heed my final request and get out of there any way you can.
I love you, Ari. You are my greatest treasure, and I only wish I could have protected you better.
If you ever need anything, go to your grandfather. Remember that rhyme we used to sing when we would visit him? That’s all you need to find him.
I love you, to the moon and back.
Mom
I swiped at the tears streaming down my face. It felt like I had her back for one brief moment, only to lose her once more.
It was all my father’s fault. He was the reason she couldn’t take living anymore. What had he done to her that she kept from me? What horrors did she hide on a daily basis?
No matter what, I was certain of one thing—he was going to pay.
For everything.
We left Asher Holdings with a box full of mementos and a whole lot of pain-filled anger that was desperate for an outlet.
There was no need to tell Domenico where to go when we exited the parking garage.
We had a loose cannon to deal with. A man whose ego made him think he was invincible, and I was going to show him just how wrong he was.
It was time for retribution.
When we pulled up to the house I’d spent my teenage years in, the boiling of my blood increased. It was a monument of his success that my mother had paid the price for.
Santiago was waiting when we exited the car.
“I’ve cleared the premises, sir,” he said.
“Thank you,” Domenico said as we walked up the steps to the front door.
We entered my father’s office, which was devoid of his presence. I took a seat at his desk chair and kicked my feet up onto his desk.
There had been a last gift that sat buried at the bottom of the safety deposit box—a gun.
It was my mother’s, a gift from her father—a 9mm Glock with filigree detail, the Vitale family crest, and a white pearl handle.
It was beautiful.
And it was going to serve justice for her.
Domenico moved to stand behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder as he kissed the top of my head. “I’m right behind you.”
He knew what was about to happen was mine, but I loved that he was there to support and protect me.
“Where the fuck is everybody?” I heard my father call out, his footsteps echoing on the marble floors.
The knot in my stomach tightened as I stared at the door, listening as he drew closer. I swallowed when his shadow drifted into the room a step before he did.
After a few steps he came to a halt, blinking as he stared at us. “Arabella. Domenico. I’m surprised to see you here.”
I took in the faint bruises that still lingered on his skin from Domenico’s hits.
“Father.”
He sneered as he stared at my boots up on his desk. “Get your feet off my desk.”
I shook my head. “I came to tell you I did it, Daddy.”
“Did what?”
“I merged the families, just like you wanted.”
He stared at me, his eyes growing wide. “Did you marry Roman?”
I shook my head. “No, not Roman. He’s dead.”
“Dead?” he asked.
“I killed him,” Domenico said from the corner of the room.
My father sneered at Domenico. “I see you survived.”
I held up my hand featuring some random ring. It was a prop, our wedding not until the weekend. “As I was saying—I merged the families, just like you always wanted.”
The wariness melted and his lips drew up into a smile. “You really did it. I am now up there.”
“No, you’re not. It was a merger of families. A merger between the Ferrante and the Vitale. Not you.”
His gaze narrowed at me. “I’m your father.”
“And neither a Ferrante or a Vitale.”
His brow furrowed. “If Roman is dead, who did you marry?”
“The next in line, of course.”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes as he shook his head. “All Giuliano is interested in is getting dicked down and not exploring pussy.”
“Just because he has same-sex preferences doesn’t make him less of a man, Father,” I said. It was getting more difficult to keep myself calm. “He’s probably a better man than you are.”
“He’s older than me and gay. There is no way you married him.”
“I never said I married Giuliano.”
“He’s next in line.”
“Was,” Domenico said. He’d remained mostly silent, but I knew he had an affinity for his uncle and wasn’t going to stand for my father talking down about him.
“What?”
“He was next in line. Giuliano retired.”
My father’s eyes narrowed on the man behind me. “I’m having a conversation with my daughter, Domenico. Why are you still fucking here?”
“Because I’m here to protect her from you.”
My father glared at him before turning toward the door. “Santiago!” he called out.
When Santiago entered, his posture straightened when he saw us, and he bowed to me. “Missus.”
At that, my father’s eyes widened as he stared at the leader of his guard. It was the confirmation he needed, knowing all that I said was true.
“Sir?” Santiago asked as he looked at my father.
“Kill Domenico,” my father said, glaring at the man in the corner.
My heart beat wildly in my chest, but I tried to appear calm. His callousness as he tried to get rid of Domenico was staggering. If it had been Jenkins I doubted there would have been any pause, but Santiago wasn’t some hired gun—he was a loyal Ferrante member.
Santiago failed to move, which only angered my father. He thought he had a one up, but he didn’t know, or rather, he forgot.
“I told you Giovanni would not be pleased with my death,” Domenico said, reminding my father of our last visit.
“Just what is going on here?” my father asked Santiago. “I told you to shoot that man.”
“I can’t do that, sir,” Santiago replied.
“Why the hell not?” My father’s face was turning red, his muscles tight.
I knew my father—he wasn’t happy that his order wasn’t followed.
I uncrossed my legs and set them down on the floor, moving to stand tall, proud that I knew nothing he said or did could hurt me anymore. Nothing he said or did could frighten me anymore, because this was the end of the road for my father.
After all he’d done to my mother and me, it was no less than he deserved.
“As I said, Daddy, I married the next in line.”
He looked between the three of us. “I don’t understand what you are saying.”
“Think of it this way. Why would Giovanni not be pleased with Domenico’s death?” I asked.
His eyes widened as he looked at Domenico, really studied him for probably the first time. I was fairly certain my father had always brushed him off as nothing more than another hired hand.
“How did you become next in line with his three sons?” he asked.
“I know it has been a while, but I’m surprised you have forgotten his fourth son. It was out of wedlock, but that makes me no less a Ferrante than Roman was.”
My father’s eyes widened and he froze as the realization of what he’d done to a Ferrante family member set in.
“We’ve found that your services are no longer needed, Father.”
Domenico started to raise his hand, but I stopped him.
“No, my husband, let me.” I pulled the gun my mother had left me, the one her father had given her, and leveled it at my father.
It was fitting. Ending the life that destroyed her with her own gun. Poetic, almost.
“Where did you get that?” he said.
“This?” I asked as I opened my palm, exposing my mother’s initials carved into the side. “I’m surp
rised you remember it. You sold off all her belongings, leaving me with very little to remember her by.”
“That gun disappeared before she killed herself.”
I hated the way he said it, like he was trying to absolve himself for the part he played. He was the star, after all.
“Yes, it did.” I aimed the gun and fired, hitting him in roughly the same position he shot Domenico.
“Fuck!” he cried out. His face scrunched up in pain, his mouth open, brow furrowed as he looked at me.
“That was for Domenico.”
Any trepidation I’d had about shooting my father ebbed away with each vile word that had come out of his mouth. My first kill would be the man who gave me life. The man who drove my mother to kill herself. The man who touched me in a way no father should touch his child.
“Are you fucking happy now, you little bitch?”
I aimed higher, pulling the trigger. My ears were still trying to recover from the first shot, but I pushed that away so that I could finish what I came to do.
The bullet entered his chest, breaking through his ribs.
“That was for me,” I said as I walked around the desk.
His eyes widened as he fell down to his knees, one hand on his stomach trying to hold the blood in, the other on his chest failing to do the same.
I stopped in front of him as all my hatred boiled up. I’d been powerless under his roof and knowing the future he’d had in store for me, he hadn’t paid enough.
He stared up at me with pleading eyes, but it wouldn’t sway me. He had to pay the final price for my mother’s death.
“Arabella.”
I leveled the gun with his head. “This is for my mother.”
I flexed my finger and the gun fired one last bullet. The force sent him down to the ground on his back, and I couldn’t look away as all movement came to a stop and he was still.
I was breathing hard when I felt Domenico’s hand on my waist and his lips against my forehead. “How do you feel?”
How did I feel?
Overwhelmed, overpowered with emotion, but most of all, I felt free. A tear slid down my cheek. There was no more looking over my shoulder, no more fear he would find me. There was nothing he could ever do to me again.
“Like I can breathe for the first time in years.”
“We’ll deal with this,” Santiago said.
“Thank you.” Domenico guided me out into the foyer. “What do you want to do with this house?”
“Burn it to the ground for all I care,” I said, my gaze flicking back to the open door and my father’s body. “I don’t care. I just never want to be here again.”
It was the place both of my parents lost their lives. The gilded cage that I escaped.
From the moment Giovanni showed up, our lives had been nothing but a whirlwind. From the choice we’d had to make, which was really no choice at all, to getting retribution on my father and releasing him from service, to pulling up to the Vitale stronghold in a Ferrante vehicle.
My life was no longer the standard life by which I was accustomed to living.
For the last several years, I’d stripped to put a roof over my head and food on my table just to be out from underneath my tyrant of a father. For the first time in my life, I was truly free.
Now, I’d willingly traded my freedom for a cage—one that would give me a lifetime with the man I loved. My father was dead, and the structure of the organization was a little unstable. Time was critical, and all moving parts had to be settled before we would be given even a moment to adjust to our new roles.
For Domenico, there was less of an adjustment. He already knew everything the Ferrante organization was doing, as he had orchestrated many of the moving parts on a daily basis. For years I had floated in an abyss, and because of that my learning curve was steep. I was disjointed as I soaked in as much information as I could. I knew some basic workings, but there were points I had trouble keeping up with.
I didn’t even get to shop for a new wardrobe—clothes were brought in by the bagful. We were staying at the Ferrante house, and while I feared that might change Domenico, it didn’t. He was the same as always. It was me who was struggling with my identity.
Domenico squeezed my hand as we sat in the back of a large SUV. I turned to him, biting down on my bottom lip as I took in the vision of him in a suit. It got to me every time.
“Are you okay?
I nodded. “It’s just…”
He pulled my hand up to his lips. “It will take a while. I will answer any questions you have, no matter what.”
“Any?”
He nipped at my knuckle. “Do you have some already?”
I nodded. “Where are we going to live?” I was hoping he wouldn’t say the Ferrante house, because after two days I was ready to leave.
“My house. For now. We can figure the rest out later.”
I picked at my dress and the white fabric. To the fashion police it was too late in the year to wear white, but it was a special day.
We were getting married.
Married.
The word didn’t sound right, foreign to my tongue, but it was the truth nonetheless. It was the first major step toward our future, and while it wasn’t a grand event, it was still an event, a merging of families. White felt right, and the knee-length sheath dress was classic and elegant.
I only wished my face looked as nice. Our skin still held the evidence of our battle, and I tried my best to hide what I could with makeup and the style of my hair.
There were no reservations about tying myself to Domenico—it was everything that came with it. What we were undertaking to be together was monumental.
My heart jumped at the familiar fencing signaling we’d reached the Vitale property. A calmness washed through me. We weren’t on the run. We were not there to fight. We were there to come together in a way our two families had never thought possible.
The car came to a stop, and Domenico exited and held his hand out for me. The dress restricted my movement, so he took hold of my waist and helped to lower me to the ground.
My grandfather appeared, and my whole body lit up as he held his arms open.
“Nonno!” I cried out as I stepped into his waiting embrace.
“Arabella,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around me.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever see him again, and I held him tight.
“Come,” he said as he pulled back. His gaze met Domenico, and he held out his hand.
There was a wariness in Domenico’s eyes as he stared down at it, but he pushed those feelings aside and took hold of his hand. It would take some time for those ingrained reactions to subside.
“Thank you for keeping her safe.”
Domenico nodded. “Always.”
“Good to see you again, Laureano,” Giovanni said after emerging from another car.
“You as well. What a day we have.”
My grandfather led the way, heading straight for the dining room. Inside two men sat, enjoying what looked to be a glass of brandy. Upon our entrance they stood, both giving a bow of their heads.
“Arabella, Domenico, this is Matthew Cleary and Daniel Wright from the county clerk’s office. We’ve worked hand in hand with them for many years, and they are both trusted advisers.”
My grandfather and Giovanni had found some workaround for filing at the courthouse, which shouldn’t have surprised me.
They both stepped forward and shook our hands before Matthew spoke. “We have everything ready for you. I’d like to be the first to say congratulations on your nuptials, and I wish you a long and happy marriage.”
The butterflies kicked up in my stomach. It was an odd thing to be nervous about, because it was what I wanted.
He shuffled papers, and we took our seats around the table. “We’ve taken care of everything. The only thing we need from you are your signatures.”
Included were copies of all my pieces of identification, items I wasn’t sure I would ev
er see again. Some I hadn’t seen since I was sixteen when my mother helped me to get my license, like my birth certificate. I didn’t know at the time the license was to help prepare me for her departure.
I looked to Domenico. It all seemed so formal. There were even multiple trays scattered about the surface, holding ring after ring.
“Before that, we need to discuss some more pressing matters,” my grandfather said. He signaled to the butlers standing by the bar. They came around, getting drink orders from everyone, and I requested a glass of wine.
Once everyone had something, Giovanni raised his glass in the air. “To the end of an era—and the beginning of a new one as a unified family.”
“To the end of war between our families,” my grandfather added.
Domenico’s eyes met mine. “To our future.”
I smiled at him. “To love.”
Everyone took a sip, and then Domenico leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.
I turned my attention to the heads of the families. “A few things before we finalize this,” I said, gaining everyone’s attention. Domenico was already aware of my one request and had agreed. “I want to stop the sex trafficking.”
Giovanni shook his head. “No.”
My grandfather lifted his hand. “I agree. If you want this merger, the sex trafficking stops.”
“There is a lot of money to be had,” Giovanni argued.
“With the Vitale empire you will have no need. Drugs, weapons, and secrets fetch a far higher price.”
Giovanni looked to Domenico. “What are your thoughts?”
“It ends. Now.”
Giovanni clenched his jaw. “If it wasn’t for that, you wouldn’t have her.”
“What would my mother think?” Domenico asked.
Giovanni blanched and hung his head. “Ileana would have agreed with you.”
“Let it go so that we can expand past that.”
Giovanni nodded. “Today it ends.”
I smiled and nodded, happy to have my say acknowledged, considered, and agreed with. I’d been afraid they were going to push me aside, that I had no real say and would be treated as a showpiece, as my mother had been.