AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Business was her father’s first love. And the Albanians had been a business link he decided was more important than whether his daughter survived.
She ignored the heavy gazes of the guards they passed. In the sitting room, her father stood at the bar, pouring from a decanter of his favorite whiskey. He didn’t look much different, though the dark hair at his temples had more gray in it, and his hairline had receded slightly from what she remembered. Still, his suit was impeccable, his body muscled more out of a need for respect than a need to be strong. Three more guards ranged along the walls inside the room, there to keep him safe. Santino rarely got his own hands dirty.
He hadn’t even attempted to patch up her bloody back when she’d run to him.
Her father didn’t look at her now. “I told you I wasn’t interested in an alliance, Coronella,” he said, not offering any of them a drink. “Let’s keep this meeting short.”
Montrell folded his arms but didn’t start the conversation. His eyes shifted to her.
Beatrice took a breath before stepping forward. “I asked for the meeting, Daddy.”
And still he wouldn’t look at her. “You took something that didn’t belong to you. But it didn’t belong to me anymore either. Keep it, don’t… I don’t care.” He sipped at his drink as he moved to the couch. “But if you’re here to use it for leverage, you might as well turn around.”
Beatrice’s back straightened as she crossed to the bar. She poured herself her father’s favorite, letting the burn of the first sip loosen her throat. “And here I was thinking we could catch up pleasantly, Daddy. Silly of me, I guess.” She threw back the last of the shot, hating the taste like she had every time she drank it. “You’ve got your men here. I’ll give you a chance to send them away before I say what I’ve come to say.”
His tightening shoulders were the only indication he’d heard her. “What is your game, Coronella?”
Montrell shook his head. “I don’t play games. My only role here is as escort.” He leaned back against the wall as if he had all the time in the world.
Beatrice crossed to stand behind her father. The nearest Lucchese soldier tensed, but she had no intention of killing him. He didn’t deserve the peace of death. Instead she leaned down and whispered a particular date into his ear.
The glass falling from his hand to spill on the carpet was her reward. She straightened again, forcing her lips to lift at the edges even as her teeth clenched tight.
“Leave us,” her father choked out to the Lucchese soldiers.
“Sir?” one asked, but a wave of her father’s hand had them heading toward the door.
As they filed out, Beatrice took her time rounding the couch. She gave her father a proper view of her back before turning and settling onto the opposite settee.
The click of the door was loud in the silence.
“How did you find out?” Santino asked, pushing the words past his own clenched teeth.
“I was a punching bag, Daddy,” she said, capturing his eyes, “not an idiot. I mean, I am your daughter.” Her tight smile returned.
“The Albanians—”
“Are all but dead now.” She nodded toward Montrell. “The Coronellas saw to that. I bet you felt almost safe when you heard.”
Her father’s face tensed. “You’re bluffing. There’s no proof that—”
Beatrice forced a laugh. “Do you really think I’d make this play without proof?”
Her father was quiet for long minutes. “What’s to prevent me from killing you and your new husband here and now?”
Vespa’s hand moved to rest on her holster.
Montrell didn’t twitch.
“I understand your panic,” Beatrice said, resting her back deeper into the settee, “but I expected a bit of professionalism.” She tsked as she tilted her head. “You haven’t even heard my demands.”
“As if I’ll consider blackmail.”
“You did once before. Trust me, my hands on the reins are more delicate.” She lifted her hand from the couch, considering it herself. “Though they have been broken. But I’ve heard things that are broken heal harder.”
Her father’s gaze was almost compelled to follow the way her wrist twisted. With Montrell and Vespa behind her, only he saw the flash of scar she purposely showed him.
“There’s little I’m scared of losing, Daddy. Can you say the same?”
