Her Mafia Bodyguard

I know it. It’s fun, in a way, being so far ahead of a supposedly powerful man like him. “You’re right. I didn’t think about it that way. I guess it’s too late to keep word from spreading.”

“Please. I’m sure everybody knows by now.”

“I guess it would look pretty suspicious if I disappeared right after this. Like I had a breakdown or something.”

He scoffs like that would mean a personal insult to his ego. “My daughter? A breakdown? I don’t think so.”

“So I guess I should stick around, huh? To make things easier on you.” He blinks rapidly, sinking into his chair while I remain standing. Good. Let him look up at me. Maybe the change in view will help change his mindset. “I could make things a lot easier, in fact. I could be the face of the family. The ambassador. I could clean up your image and make you look like a kind, generous, philanthropic guy who’s been misunderstood by critics and the federal agents who’ve never been able to pin him down.”

His mouth moves without sound for a few seconds. “You came up with all this?” he croaks.

“You’d be surprised what goes through a person’s head when they think they’re about to die.” I can’t help but chuckle. “Or maybe you wouldn’t be surprised.”

He barks out a laugh, then looks shocked that he did. I’ll take it as a good sign. “You could finally improve your brand. Not only in front of the other families and your friends but the entire world. Now that word’s out I’m your daughter—your daughter who you almost lost so soon after you found her, which could mean great press—you have the opportunity to become a hero.”

Got him. He’s watching it play out in his head, and he’s liking what he sees. A clean image. Beloved, or at least not hated.

“I’ll do that for you,” I offer. “I’d be happy to. If I can have Zeke.”

His eyes harden. “No way.”

“Then we have no deal, and I’m gone.”

“I have a contract to fulfill.”

“And I love Zeke. I love him.” For once, I don’t fight against the tears. They flow freely now. “I know it doesn’t matter to you. You don’t know me. You’ve never made an attempt at getting to know me. But this is my entire life we’re talking about, and he’s the person I love. He’s the person I’m choosing.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“Look at me. Listen to me. I understand we don’t know each other very well, but from the past few minutes we’ve spent together, do I seem like a girl who doesn’t know what she wants?”

I’ve got him, and he knows it. He just doesn’t want to admit it. “I still have obligations.”

“I understand that, but there has to be a way around it. Some kind of force majeure clause, right? Don’t tell me you didn’t get one of those.”

He rubs his temples, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m starting to regret sending you to college.”

“After what happened tonight, it’s the perfect cover. I’m a total wreck.” Then something else hits me. Should I even mention it? It’s gross, it’s despicable, and I know it. But I’m also beyond desperate at this point. I run my sleeves under my eyes and stand up a little straighter. “You know, maybe Dean did hurt me tonight. Maybe he hurt me badly. Maybe he forced himself on me.”

His eyes pop open, and oh, my God, they’re murderous. “He didn’t, did he?”

“No. He never got that far.” I wait, hoping he’ll catch on. “But what if he did? He’s not around to say he didn’t. We don’t have to spread that around to the police or the press—but what if you hinted at it to the Rinaldis? I’m disgusted with myself for even thinking it, but if my being a virgin is so important to them, maybe they’d be willing to break the contract.”

He’s stone-faced. His plan, his goal of uniting our families is not something he’s going to let go of easily. But I’m not letting go either. I think he’s starting to figure that out, too.

We both look at his phone when it rings. He picks it up, his face falling when he sees who’s calling. I’ve never seen him without his mask on. When he’s not acting like the big, bad guy. Now he’s a man stuck between a rock and a hard place. He’s human.

When he doesn’t answer right away, I prompt him. “Who is it?”

“It’s Philip Rinaldi.” Our eyes meet. “I sent him a message to cancel dinner, so I don’t know why he’s calling now.”

“What are you going to say to him?” My heart’s in my throat. Everything comes down to this.

I only wish I knew if I could trust my own father to do the right thing.