chiara
We sat in one of Alessandro’s many cars. This one was an inconspicuous black SUV with tinted windows. Parked outside Dad’s property, we waited and watched, trying to figure out a way to get into the damn place.
There must’ve been hundreds of men with guns guarding the property. Most of them I didn’t even recognize. They must’ve been from the Sicilian Mafia—the best. These guys weren’t average. They looked professional.
The woman who had healed me a few days ago sat in the backseat, saying something in Italian. I stared at her through the rearview mirror and furrowed my brows, only picking up on a couple of words from her. Maybe this was why Dad hadn’t taught me Italian, growing up. I’d tried to learn, begged for a tutor, but he’d refused, telling me that it was useless. But I knew better now.
It wasn’t useless. Dad was just a dick.
“This won’t work,” I said, shaking my head.
There were too many people around. One of us was bound to get shot and killed. We needed another way … but how? How were we going to get—
“Fuck.” I leaned forward in the passenger seat. “We have to go back to Officer William’s house. I have an idea.”
Karrie looked over at me. “Are you sure? We don’t have much time. They’ll figure it out sooner or later that you killed all his men, and your dad will have even more out, tracking you. I’d be surprised if he hasn’t already sent them.”
“It’s the only way,” I said, gazing around to make sure nobody had spotted us yet. I knew exactly where Dad had set up his cameras and the places the guards looked, which ones slacked, which ones didn’t.
Karrie threw the car in reverse and drove us back onto the highway as I directed her toward Detective William’ house. I ran into the house, grabbed his cruiser keys, and handed them to one of Alessandro’s partners, who slid into the car.
I leaned through the window. “There are underground tunnels,” I said. “My mom took me there one time when Dad had a freaking gunfight with a rival family. I faintly remember where they are, but they’ll take us directly toward where Dad must be torturing Alessandro.”
It was a long shot, but I had to trust myself. Mom had died for this, and I wouldn’t let her death be forgotten. I’d find Alessandro alive, and I’d keep him alive. There was no fucking stopping an angry daughter in red-bottomed shoes who wanted the world to burn.
“You’ll distract the guards out front with the police car. Put the lights on when Karrie texts you. Don’t get captured. If they start to approach or shoot at the car, leave it there with the lights on and run like hell in the opposite direction.”
Stomach tightening, I told myself this was our only hope … because, well, it was. We had one shot at this, and if we didn’t succeed, then we’d die in the hands of Dad and the family tonight too.
One shot. One fucking shot.
I grabbed each of their hands and squeezed. I didn’t know either of them, I didn’t like either of them, but I’d protect both of them. They were family.
“Stay safe,” I whispered.