Keane shifts his angry gaze from Lena’s father to his wife. And it promises a divorce in their future if she doesn’t stop this train from crashing into their station.
“Actually, Dad…” Lena starts to say. But their doorbell sounds before she can come up with a polite reason her dad can’t move in right away. Or, like, ever.
“I'll get it,” she volunteers, scrambling up from the table with more speed than anyone probably would've given her credit for with Keane’s huge second son inside her belly.
The desire to get away from this conversation makes her fast.
Lena opens the front door, happy to see whoever is on the other side. Seriously, she doesn’t care if it's a Jehovah's witness looking to convert all of them. Any interruption is welcome right now.
But her heart stops when she sees the woman standing on their doorstep. Someone she hasn’t heard from in over a decade. She didn't even show up at their ten-year Mount Holyoke reunion. Yet, Lena still recognizes her in an instant.
“Oh my God, Dawn, is that you?”
“Yes,” her former best friend answers, her voice sheepish. “I'm sorry to show up out of the blue like this. But I kind of need a place to stay, at least for a little while.”
Lena’s mouth drops open. Then she raises her eyes to the sky to thank both her father’s Hindi gods and Keane’s Catholic one. They definitely must’ve worked together on this miracle because it looks like her dad won't be moving in after all.
16
VICTOR
“Aw, Victor, man. This ain’t a good look at all,” Ferraro lets him know that night.
He came out himself to meet Victor, his face hard with anger at being pulled out of his bed to deal with their unexpected visitor.
However, his expression morphs into pity when he finds The Silent Triad Dragon swaying drunkenly outside the hedge gate and holding up a phone. It’s open to the same note app he used back in July to make Ferraro an offer in exchange for Dawn.
Victor doesn't care how he looks to his fellow crime lord. He shoves the phone into Ferraro’s face, makes him read the message: Tell her she owes me one more date still. If she doesn't keep her side of the deal, I won’t keep my side of the deal.
Ferraro reads the message, then shoots Victor an aggravated look. “Okay, that's an Amber thing. And she's not coming out. It’s 1 AM in the fucking morning, man.”
Is it really that late? After Dawn left, he went home and plotted how to get her back with a bottle of baijiu by his side. And when scheming didn't seem to help, he told Phantom to take him to Ferraro’s house.
Phantom grumbled a bit about having to “drive your drunk ass” around before following Victor out to his Audi. But he didn’t mention the time.
But yes, it is late, he realizes, after turning the phone back around and checking the hour himself. He supposes this will give Dawn one more reason to hate him.
Her last words ring in his head. Would you want you for your daughter?
The question implants itself next to the nightmares he’s been having. Dark rooms, and his mother's tears, the surgery that rendered him a monster. The little sister he never met.
He clears the message on the phone and tries again. One more date. Tell her I can do better. I can change. Tell her to give me one more date.
He holds the phone up to Ferraro as desperate plans unfurl inside his head.
He will figure out what she wants most of all, and he will get it for her. He will buy her whatever she wanted. She just has to agree to come back to him.
Ferraro shakes his head. “I can't pass that message on to her. She's not here.”
She’s not here? Panic and anger boil up inside of Victor. How could they have let her leave the security of their estate? She’s out there somewhere, completely unprotected.
“And before you go furiously typing on your phone again, we know where she is,” Ferraro answers his untyped questions. “It's somewhere safe. Nothing's going to happen to her there. I already arranged for a couple of local guys to discreetly watch over her until this all dies down.”
Relief quells the volcano about to erupt inside of Victor.
However, then Ferraro adds, “But with the kind of heat you got on you, the best way for this to die down is for you to let her go. You know that right?”
Victor expels a breath.
It is as if this other crime lord is speaking from the darkest part of his conscience. Saying out loud all the things Victor doesn’t want to admit.
Ferraro gives him a sympathetic look. “Listen, I was once where you're at. It's hard for bosses. We’re not used to being told no. But you can't fight who you are. And I know you're trying to say you can be different, but the truth is, adult behavioral change is a motherfucker—I saw that on some documentary Amber made me watch.”