“Can’t a man want to check in on his darling daughter? You moved to another country and took your dream job. I want to hear all about it, every detail.”
I wipe my tears off my cheeks and clear my throat again. “Well, it’s been amazing. I was a bit worried that my colleagues who have more seniority than me might not want to hear my ideas, opinions, or suggestions. Thankfully it’s been quite the opposite. They view me as an ally and not competition. They even say I have a different input because I grew up in Italy and understand the culture.”
“It sounds like they know how valuable you are,” my stepfather boasts.
“Yes, I . . . I didn’t anticipate working for a company that would treat me like this. I’ve heard horror stories from some of my friends when they’ve gotten their dream jobs. I guess I was expecting it to be a bit worse.”
“If you ask me, you’ve been through enough horrible things. The world’s simply giving back to you now, my dear.”
“Dad,” I start but immediately stop. I don’t even know what I’m doing or why he’d even tell me anything. I’m not an idiot. I know what he does. I know he works for very dangerous men, and while he’s dangerous himself, it’s not the same.
“What’s the matter? You sound like you have a question.”
“I do. I just don’t know if I want to ask you,” I answer honestly, gnawing on my lip a bit harder.
“You can ask me anything.”
“I know I can.”
“Then speak your mind, girl.” His voice gets a bit strained, and I can tell he’s growing irritated.
“Okay, but I want you to be honest, and I don’t want a lecture for asking.”
“Okay, so ask,” he bites out.
“When Cillian broke up with me, did you ever hear anything . . . like at your work?” I’ve never really asked about his work, but he knows what I’m asking.
My stepfather clears his throat, and there are a few moments of silence that follow. “A couple of years afterward, I heard Bruno had put a hit on you, but it was only to be enacted if Cillian stayed with you. It’s called a ‘ghost hit’. The point being if you were to ever be together again, you’d be assassinated.”
I suck in a sharp breath and am forced to sit down on the couch. “You . . . You’re certain of this?” my throat tightens up, and I don’t know whether to be angry or happy there was a reason.
“I have no doubts. My source’s trustworthy, but it doesn’t give Cillian an excuse for what he made you go through alone.”
“He didn’t know I was pregnant. We’ve been over this.”
“He knew it was a possibility, and it’s just as bad in my book. If he was really a man, he would’ve stayed around and made sure, or even asked a couple weeks later when you took the test.”
There will always be something my stepfather doesn’t want to like about anyone, but I understand why this is so hard for him. He had to watch me lose the man I loved, have my heart broken, and then just as I was getting out of it, my daughter died. My stepfather watched the shining light I had dim until it was almost nothing.
“Are you telling me that Cillian left because his father would’ve had me killed?”
“Yes, but we could’ve dealt with it, Mia. I will always make sure you’re safe.”
“I love you, but Cillian walking away only proves no one can keep me safe from Bruno, even his son.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
CILLIAN
I’m sitting in a leather booth at a nearby pub and fish out my cellphone. It’s damp here today, raining much more than I like. Back home, it doesn’t rain so much. If anything, it might be a light shower, but Northern Ireland is so dank.
I tap on Keenan’s name and bring the phone to my ear. The ringing tone floods through my ears, and he finally answers. “Cillian, what can I do for you?”
“You have time for a drink?”
“Yeah, I can make time. You already at the pub?”
I cackle into the phone. “Like you even had to ask, I’m on my second already, and I have something to tell you. Something I think you need to hear, and soon.”
“All right. Where are you at?” he questions.
“I’m at Duke’s. When will you be here?”
Keenan grows quiet for a few moments. “Give me five minutes. I just got off shift.”
“Great. See you then.” I end the call with a click and pick up my vodka on the rocks. I’m not typically a vodka man, but tonight I felt the need for something stronger, and I’ve been growing tired of whiskey.
I scroll on my phone and see unread text messages from Julian and Adrian, but I’m not going to look at them right now. They’re probably wondering where I am, and I told them before I was going away to handle some business matters. I wasn’t lying since I’ll be dealing with some business matters while I’m here, but things are more pressing in a personal matter for me.