Vengeful Mafia Prince (Vicious Heirs #2)

Chapter Seventeen—Elena

I stuff my hands into my pockets as I stride out on to campus. I'm trying to muster all the confidence I can, but the truth is I'm terrified.

It's been nearly two weeks since my confrontation with my father at his office, and I've been on edge ever since. The internship is officially done now, and I'm back to taking classes. I'm glad that I don't have to hang around the office any longer, where I could run into my dad, but I know it's only a matter of time before he comes back to show me exactly where I stand in the grand scheme of things.

I know he's waiting for me to come to him and apologize. It's getting clearer and clearer that I'm the only person in the world who could have gotten such leniency from him. Most of the people who go against him, even for a moment, are going to have to pay for it.

I'm his daughter, so I get a little grace.

Though I know it's not going to last forever.

As I head to the classroom, my shoulder catches another student. For the briefest moment, out of the corner of my eye, I think it's him—I think it's Giovanni. I know, of course, that's ridiculous because there's no way he would be here. There's no way he would show his face, not after everything that's happened. It's too dangerous, and he knows that as clearly as I do.

But still, my heart leaps as I look up—and find myself faced with some random guy, who's staring down at me with a confused expression on his face.

"Hey, watch where you're going," he mutters before straightening his coat and storming off. I barely have time to mumble an apology before he's gone. I'm still so shaken about thinking it might have been him, thinking it might have been Giovanni.

I need to stop thinking about him.

Whatever he's done to get inside my head, I can't seem to shake it off. Around every corner, I find myself looking for him, even though I shouldn't want him. I made my choice, that day at the cabin. I could have agreed to stay there with him, and I could have left this life behind. I could have walked away from it all and forgotten that I had ever even had this world to begin with.

But I know that's not how it works. Not with him. No matter what happens, I'll still always be the daughter of the man who killed his parents. I can't get away from that. It's a brand I wear with great shame. It's not one I would have chosen, not a chance in hell. No, if I'd known what my father did, if I'd known what he was capable of, I would have started asking questions a long time ago.

But I didn't.

I still can't quite believe that this is the man I've looked up to for so much of my life, the man who I wanted to emulate, the man who I wanted to prove myself to. I can still feel the sting of his words when he told me I wasn't doing well at the internship. Is it bad that even now, I long for his approval more than anything?

I travel on autopilot to my lecture hall and lean on the cold stone outside with the other students as we wait for the lecturer to arrive. I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. It reminds me, too clearly, of waking up next to Giovanni that morning, stretching and seeing him there watching me.

How I wish I could just go back in time to that and lose myself there a little longer.

We file into the hall, and I take my seat at the furthest corner next to the door, as far from other people as I can possibly be. Even though I doubt any of them have any idea of what's really going on with me, there's still a part of me that fears they may figure it out. One wrong move and everyone turns on me, everyone knows the kind of traitor I am, and they make me pay for it.

Is it even betrayal if I didn't know I was doing it at first? If I had known who Giovanni was, then I would have stayed away from him. Of course I would have. I have to tell myself that, at least. I want to tell myself that I would have had the good sense to keep my distance because what kind of daughter would I have been if I had willingly gone into the arms of my enemy?

I manage to scribble down a few notes during the class, but I'm sure I'm going to have to read them again to make sense of a damn thing they say. I can't let everything that's happened get in the way of my studies. God knows I'll need something to fall back on if my father keeps up his stony silence with me for much longer.

I join the crowd heading back outside and sink down onto one of the stone benches in the center of the quad. It's a beautiful day, and I wish I had something to do with it, something real, not just sitting around and wondering what the hell is going to become of my life.

I can almost imagine Giovanni's voice in my ear, his lips grazing against my skin, suggesting that we find some way to pass the time together.

"You know, I have a few ideas..."

It's so vivid, for a moment, I can feel him here next to me. I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself back to reality.

You're losing it, Elena. Keep it together.

I get to my feet and head back to my room. I need to study. I have to make sure I haven't fallen behind anyone while I've been away on the internship. The last thing I need is for my father to have even more of an excuse to tell me to get out of his life.

If I even want to stay in it, to be honest.

I push that thought away quickly and step into my dorm room, the small, cozy confines of the space a relief from the rush going through my head.

I pull out my notebook and begin to copy out my notes, hoping if I do so they will actually go into my brain, at least a little. I want to clear my head, I want to get back to normal. I want to forget everything that's happened, and I want to return to the way things were before, before I met Giovanni, before all of this happened.

Though, truth be told, I'm not sure I mean that. As much as I want to pretend like I can get over him, there's a part of me that is still drawn to him, a part of me that I know is far from looking out for my best interests. But that doesn't mean I can just ignore it. I want him. I've never been with someone who makes me feel the way he does, and I know I'll never get that again.

Maybe because I shouldn't even have it in the first place. Perhaps something that intense, that burns that brightly, isn't meant to last for long. Maybe it's just meant to sear through your life like a comet and leave destruction in its wake.

I massage my temples, and I'm about to give in and go get myself a coffee when my phone buzzes. I answer it at once. I'm hoping to hear Giovanni's voice on the end of the line, but instead, the man's voice that speaks to me sends a shiver down my spine.

"Elena."

"Dad?" I whisper. Is it a good sign that he's calling me? I want to slam the phone down, tell him that I can't stand to speak to him right now, that I need my distance any way I can get it—but that's not how it works with him. If I decline this call, then he's going to turn up at my dorm and make sure I pay for my nerve in person.

"I need to speak to you."

"We're speaking now," I counter.

A short sigh comes down the line. "I need to speak to you in person, Elena. Now. I've sent a couple of drivers down to your dorm. Get in the car, and come to my house."

"Why can't we just have this conversation over the phone?" I shoot back. "I... I have classes to take care of. And notes to copy. I really don't have the time to come all the way out there, not in the middle of—"

"Elena, I'm not asking."

The tone to his voice makes my blood run cold. No matter how much I might want to fight against him, against this, he's made himself clear. I close my notebook and reach for my jacket.

"Okay, Dad. I'll be right there."

"See that you are."

The line goes dead. I drop my phone back into my pocket, my hand trembling wildly. What does he want from me? Why has he waited so long to get in touch with me? What plans does he have for me now that he's finally ready to talk?

I head out of my dorm, and sure enough, there are two men in dark suits standing outside waiting for me. One of them steps forward, hands clasped in front of him.

"Elena?"

I nod.

"This way."

He gestures for me to follow them, and I go along with them. It's not as though I have a single inch of bargaining power. I follow them to the car and am guided into the backseat with a firm hand. It's clear my father told them that I might try to resist and they've been told not to let me get away with it.

"I can handle myself," I protest, but the door slams shut, and I'm left sitting there in utter silence.

I draw in a deep, shaky breath, my mind racing. I don't know what my dad is going to want from me, but I can't help but feel as though it's going to be bad news. And I'm walking in there, with no way to know if I'm getting out. Am I walking to my death?

It's a sickening thought, but it's not impossible. I eye the two men in the front seat before me. Would they try to stop my father if he did something to me? It's doubtful. I can't imagine that they'd give a damn one way or another as long as they kept their jobs.

The car cuts through the busy streets, leading me closer and closer to my fate. Whatever it might be.

I still have my phone. I grip it tight in my pocket, wondering if there's anyone I can contact.

Well, there is one person. And he told me that if I ever needed him, he would be there for me. Though I'm not sure he could ever have imagined something like this going down.

Gio. I have to try. Even if it's just to let him know where I am and what has happened to me, if things take a turn for the worse. There's no way to tell how this is going to go, and I don't want to walk into this without any kind of protection.

Easing my phone from my pocket, I shoot a look at the driver and his companion again, making sure they're not paying attention to me. Their eyes are still fixed on the road, thank God. Peering back down at my screen, I type out a message as quickly as I can, telling Giovanni where I am, the address to my father's place, and...

I hover over what else to put in the message. If this is the last time I'm going to be speaking to him, then what do I want to say? So much is rushing around my head right now, so much I can hardly parse it. I send the message quickly and slip my phone back into my pocket, hoping they haven't noticed anything. What matters is sending the message, not the contents of it.

Finally, after what feels like a lifetime of driving, we pull up outside my father's house. It used to be my house, and it strikes me that this is the first time I've thought of it as anything other than that. But here, now, it doesn't feel like the place I grew up in. No, it feels a million miles removed from that. The happy memories I once had here are so distant.

The driver pulls open my door and orders me to get out. I hesitate, and he reaches in to grab my arm.

"Don't keep your father waiting," he warns me, voice low.

I yank my arm out of his grip. "I can walk on my own. I don't need your help."

I stalk toward the door, trying to convince myself that this is going to be okay. This is my father, after all. No matter what, I still have that connection with him, don't I? He's not going to hurt me. Well, he's not going to kill me.

Right?

I head straight to his office. I know that's where he's going to be waiting for me. He's always kept his office very modern, almost sterile. There's something about it that always makes me a little uncomfortable, though I know I should be cool with it by now.

Closing my eyes, I wait outside the door, gathering myself, and then I lift my knuckles to rap on the wood.

"Come in."

I open the door, and there he is, sitting in his chair. He looks up at me, and there isn't a hint of the warmth or even care that I have so often seen in his eyes.

"Good girl. You came. Now, sit."

I do as I'm told at once. I feel as though I'm under some kind of spell here, as though he has me completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger and there's nothing I can do to change that. It terrifies me. I don't know what he'll do with this level of power over me, and I really, really don't want to find out.

"What do you want, Dad?" I demand, squeezing my hands into a bunch in my lap.

"I want to talk to you, Elena. Because there's something we need to discuss. Namely, the matter of whether you're going to choose this family..." He pauses, his lip curling up into a sneer for a moment. "Or his."

He spits those words out. I stare him down, trying to prove to him that he can't just roll over me like this.

"And how much of a choice do I have here?"

He leans forward, clasping his hands in front of him, slipping with ease into business mode.

"Tell me what you're going to choose. Then, we can talk about your options, Elena."

I roll my shoulders back. "Alright," I reply. "Well, I need to know what I'm being offered here before I make my choice. Read all the contracts before you sign them, right?"

"And what do you need to know?"

"I need to know how much... how much criminal shit you're involved in."

I barely ever curse in front of my father. Even now, it feels like something I'll get in trouble for. His lips briefly curl up into a smile, though it doesn't reach his eyes. Is he proud of me, negotiating like this?

"Trust me, Elena," he replies smoothly. "Unless you're going to get involved with it yourself, you're better off not knowing. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

I bristle with anger. "Dad, I'm not just... I'm not just some little girl. I'm a grown woman. And I don't want to be kept out of this any longer."

"Oh, now you want to be a grown woman, do you?" he snaps, making me jump. "Trust me, you don't want to be that in my eyes. Because seeing you as my little girl is the only thing keeping me from dealing with you the way I would any other traitor."

"And what does that mean? What would you do to me if I wasn't your daughter? What you did to Giovanni's parents?"

His face twists up into a smile that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Worse."

I feel like I'm seeing him for the first time. Not my dad, no, not the man I've known my whole life, but the man who is capable of doing terrible harm to the people who wrong him. I feel like I'm seeing him through Giovanni's eyes for the first time. And all at once, his campaign against my dad makes perfect sense. How could he handle this man being out there, knowing what he did to his parents, knowing that he would do worse to him and his sister if he got the chance?

"You pulled a gun on his sister," I remind him bluntly. "And you want me to trust you? Really?"

"I did what I had to do to keep myself safe," he snarls back. "She was waving a knife at me. And, what, you expected me to just let that pass?"

"I expected you to handle it like... like the man I grew up with."

"The man you grew up with," he snorts, shaking his head. "You have no idea what I've protected you from, how much I've shielded you. And this is how you repay me? By showing me you care so little that you're willing to sleep with my enemy?"

I part my lips, wishing I could protest, wishing I could argue with him on this. But I can't. I know I can't. Whatever I've done, whatever harm I've caused, there's no coming back from it now. It's happened. My life, as I know it, has fallen apart, and I can't do anything to change it. I've turned my father against me. I've made him feel as though he has no choice but to turn on me like this. If I had just kept my head down, I wouldn't have ended up here, standing before him, wondering if he's going to make me pay.

"And what if I choose his side?" I demand, defiant. "What if I decide I can trust him more than I can trust you? What then?"

He falls silent. The weight in that quiet settles down around my shoulders, so enormous and so heavy that I don't know what to make of it.

"Then you would no longer have my protection," he replies, quietly. "And I would have to get rid of you."

"Get rid of me?"

I know what he means by that, but I'm not going to let him skate by without saying it. His jaw tightens.

"Yes."

"You would do that, to your own daughter?"

"I offer my protection to my family on one condition only," he replies, voice laced with threat. "And that condition is that they stay loyal to me. As soon as that changes, as soon as I've got a reason to think they don't have my best interests at heart... then it's over. Simple as that. They're not my family anymore."

I back away toward the door. He reaches beneath his desk.

"Elena," he murmurs, stilling. "You can still walk this back. You can still tell me that you're loyal to me. If you do, we can forget all of this, and everything will go back to normal. I'll recommend you to Kyra for the post-internship position this summer. You can come work for me, you can make a name for yourself."

It's a tantalizing offer. But if I go back, I can't forget everything I know about him. I can't rewind time and pretend I'm not aware of the person he is.

Can I live with myself if I go back to him? If I just put it all aside and pretend like I don't know about the kind of man he is? I'm not sure I can. I'm not sure I have it in me.

And I'm not sure I want to, either.

"No, Dad," I breathe to him, though the man sitting before me is not my father. "No. I'm not... I'm not going back to the way things were."

I put my hand on the handle and push the door open, darting before he can get out a response. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know what he's going to do to stop me, but I just know I have to run as fast as my legs will carry me.

I sprint like the wind toward the front door. I'm sure he'll tell his guards to stop me in my tracks before I can go anywhere, but I have to take that risk. I can't stop this. I can't turn back. My breath tears from my lungs, and I hear a raised voice. For a moment, I think it's my father, instructing his men to catch me before I leave so he can deliver the fate he so clearly thinks I deserve.

But it's not my father. No, it's another voice I recognize—the only one I want to hear right now.

Gio!