Vengeful Mafia Prince (Vicious Heirs #2)

Chapter Thirteen—Elena

I stand there, just outside the door to my father's office, and wonder why the hell it's suddenly become so hard for me to go in there and have a conversation with my father.

As if I don't know.

I've been going through the folder that Jordan made for me the last few days, picking my way through every little detail, taking it all in. And what it has revealed to me is that the man I thought my father was... well, there's a whole lot more to him than that.

I lift my knuckles and rap on the door. I need to talk to him about what's going on. I need to understand the extent of everything. I need to wrap my head around the reality of it. I'm old enough now to hear the details, no matter how terrifying they might be.

"Come in."

His voice sends a shiver down my spine, but I plant my hand on the door and push it open. Inside, my father is sitting behind a large desk, one hand pressed against his temple, the other fiddling with a fountain pen. He glances up and manages a small smile when he sees me. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"Oh, Elena," he says, rising to his feet and gesturing for me to sit down. "Here. What can I help you with?"

The way he says it, it sounds almost stilted, as though I'm nothing more than an employee interrupting him when he's in the middle of something else that's so much more important.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about," I confess. How the hell am I going to even start this conversation with him? I can already tell from the way he's looking at me that he doesn't have a goddamn clue what I'm talking about, and he doesn't like it.

Because I'm the girl who keeps her mouth shut. I'm not the girl who digs her heels in and tries to take control. That's one of the reasons he was okay having me at the business in the first place, I'm sure of it.

Because he knew it would be easy for him to keep me out of what really mattered here.

"Dad, what do you do here?" I blurt out, finally. A stupid way to start the conversation, but hey, at least it's something.

He stares at me for a moment, nonplussed.

"Elena, you work here. You know what we do here."

I shift in my seat.

"I know... I know what you say you do. But... I've heard some people talking and..."

"Who the hell has been talking to you about what I do?" he snarls back, and the harshness in his voice catches me off guard. I hold my hands up quickly.

"It's okay, it's nobody." Last thing I want to do is throw someone from this place under the bus when they've done nothing wrong. Judging by the look on my father's face right now, he would tear a chunk out of anyone he suspected.

"I just... I know that you've been so successful," I continue, carefully couching what I'm about to say next in a compliment. "And I want to be at your level of success one day, too. It's why I'm going to college because I know that it's not easy to get to where you are in the world."

He leans back in his seat and nods for me to go on. My father would never admit it, but playing to his ego is an effective strategy.

"I want to understand what you do here exactly."

His face darkens for a moment. "And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean..." I hesitate. I don't know how to put this into words. Some part of me wants to back down, but another insists I move forward. "I mean, I know that to get to the level you have reached, there are... some people who do things they're not proud of," I continue, carefully. I can see this is getting to him already.

"Tell me what you mean, Elena."

"I want to know if you're involved with anything... illegal."

His eyes flash with anger. I can tell this is the last thing he thought he would be talking about today, and he's pissed he even has to entertain this.

"Like what?"

"Like... like you might be involved with families in the city who are into some criminal stuff," I reply. "I know you wouldn't do it all yourself, but I've heard people talking..."

"And who the hell have you heard talking?" he snarls again, this time so angry that it makes me take a step back from his desk.

"I-I—"

"Because if it's that boy—"

"What boy?" I demand. How does he know I've been spending time with anyone? How is he aware of who I've been involved with?

He stills, gathering himself.

"There are some things you don't need to understand, Elena," he replies, spitting my name like it's venom. "And it's better for you to keep your pretty little head down and stay out of my business. I've given you the internship. That should be enough. Focus on proving that you're capable of taking care of that, and then we can talk. Okay?"

I draw in a deep, shuddering breath. I'm so angry in that moment that I could fly across the table at him. The way he's talking to me, like I'm nothing more than an irritation, like he only made sure I got the internship because it would shut me up and keep me from looking any further into his business, makes me want to scream.

But I just nod, slowly. It's clear I'm not going to get anything else out of him right now, no matter what I say or do. He's glowering at me, silently ordering me to go, and I'm not going to fight him on this.

"Sorry to disturb you," I spit. And with that, I turn on my heel and stalk out the door, certain of one thing, if nothing else in the world—my father is involved in some stuff he doesn't want me to know a damn thing about.

And just how far down that might go, I don't know. But if Giovanni is the only one who's going to be honest with me, then he's who I need to be with right now.

I storm out of the office, pulling in a big lungful of the early evening air. I need to see him. I don't know if this is a good idea, but he's the only person I can trust. And in the chaos of everything going on around me, I need that more than ever.

I flag down a car and give the driver the address to Giovanni's apartment.