Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
Relief rushed through my veins, with hot anger on its heels. “I’m not an idiot, Gio. You still didn’t trust him.”
He gritted his teeth, then took a deep breath. “Those men found some things I thought you should see,” he said evenly.
I crossed my arms and nodded for him to continue. I didn’t like any of this, least of all finding out after the fact, but if Gio was trying to keep his temper, I owed him the same courtesy.
He unfolded the papers, which turned out to be high-quality photos of my father talking to a man I didn’t recognize on a bench, taken from a great distance. My jaw dropped.
“That’s not confirmation, and you know it,” I snapped. “That’s surveillance.”
He sighed. “Yes. Alessandro was worried, and he needed a task to keep him from doing something more foolish. I was simply hoping to figure out what Sal did for work—”
“You could’ve asked!” I said.
He shook his head. “Every time I asked, he avoided the question.”
I bit my lip. I couldn’t exactly remember asking myself, but it suddenly seemed strange that I didn’t know.
Gio lifted the pictures. “He’s usually alone, but someone finally met him. I don’t know this man in specific, but I know his tattoos.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“A mafioso’s tattoos are like a resume, especially in… certain families,” he explained.
“Which families?” I bit out.
Gio shuffled to the next picture, which clearly showed the stranger’s legs, covered in tattoos. “Russian families. That star?” He pointed to matched tattoos on the man’s knees, black and white eight-pointed stars. “That means he’s a middling member of the Russian mob.”
My stomach flipped. Russians? My father knew Russians? Was he in debt to the Russians back in Miami?
I shook my head. I couldn’t disbelieve him so quickly.
“You got rid of the Russians,” I said. “And do you have any proof this is anything more than a chance encounter?”
He sighed. “We got rid of Dmitri and his organization in Florence. I thought we wiped out the Zaytsevs. But we didn’t see his second’s body.”
I pressed a shaking hand to my mouth. All this time, I thought I was safe. I had a baby because I thought the greatest threat of my life was handled. And now, after years, Gio was telling me he hadn’t truly handled anything?
“Carina, I’m sorry.” He dropped the pictures into his lap and grabbed my free hand. “I didn’t tell you because I truly believed the matter resolved. It is only now that I wonder.”
Years of nightmares rushed through my head at once. After all the peace, I’d almost stopped dreaming of monsters taking Elio in the night, chopping him up and sending him back to us piece by piece.
I would never be able to chase those fears away until that second was dead.
I glanced at the papers in Gio’s lap, and the truth came rushing back to me. Not only did he believe the Russians were back, but he thought my father was involved. A plain white sheet peeked out from behind the photos.
I pulled my hand from my mouth and plucked it out of the pile.
“Olivia—” Gio said.
The paper in my trembling hand was a bank account with a few deposits circled in red ink. In each case, the source of the deposit was a string of meaningless numbers. Each deposit was a few thousand dollars, and they seemed to come in threes.
“What is this?” I asked.
“One of your father’s accounts,” he admitted. At least he had the grace to hang his head. “I had Gabriele look into it after I saw the tattoos. The circled deposits are the ones that seem suspicious.”
“Suspicious?” I demanded. “So you don’t just think he knows Russians or is hiding from them. You think he’s on the payroll.”
Gio rubbed his chin. “I don’t know what I think just yet. But you have to admit it’s a strange coincidence.”
I wanted to laugh, wanted to argue, but I could see the puzzle pieces he was putting together. In the first picture, where I could see both men’s faces, they looked relatively at ease with each other.
I peered closer. No, they didn’t. I recognized the look in our matching eyes. My father looked scared, in the way I had only seen him look when I had him escorted off the property that first day, or when Gio tried to menace him.
I couldn’t deny the evidence, but maybe Gio was interpreting it wrong.
“I think there’s another explanation,” I said. “There’s gotta be. No mob hit involves learning as much about my life as he has, as much about my interests and my history. God, Gio, look at how scared he is here. What kind of scheme is that?”
To his credit, Gio picked up the photo and studied it closely. I held my breath, hoping he’d see what I saw and admit he was wrong. Maybe he’d even mount a mission to rescue Sal from the Russian mob, because I couldn’t disagree with the connections Gio laid out.
He put the picture down and looked at me. “I don’t get that off these images, carina, but perhaps you know him better.”
I smiled as fresh relief as my husband finally siding with me broke over my heart. “Exactly! I don’t disagree something’s wrong, but he probably just can’t get away from them. We have to—”
“But,” he said.
I grimaced.
Gio crossed his arms. “I don’t see an interpretation of this data that doesn’t end in bad intentions. The best-case scenario is that he’s willing to give you and me up to get out from under the mob.”
“Maybe we can show him another way—” I protested.
Gio shook his head. “You can’t be alone with him until we know exactly what’s going on. And you don’t need to go over to his house.”
For a moment, shock overwhelmed me. I thought we were on the same side, that he was willing to listen, but instead, he was doing the same thing he always did when he decided things got too dangerous for poor little Olivia.
As the shock faded, I sprang off the bed with red coloring my vision. “Sorry, do you think you get to tell me what I can and can’t do?”
Gio winced and put his hands up. “No, carina, that came out wrong. I just meant that I don’t want—”
I snorted. “Oh, you don’t want me to, so I can’t. Because the world spins around you and your wants. Gio, he might be trapped. They might be forcing him to do this, but you’re so caught up in your blind hatred that you can’t see it.”
He stood, still a bit away and with his hands up. “I’ve told you time and again that I don’t hate him.”
“But you keep doing this!” I threw my hands up in the air. “Every time we have this fight, you promise to be different, and then you don’t change fucking anything.”
“Carina, I only—” He took a step closer, and I backed away.
I was tired of defending the people I loved from my husband, tired of always being wrong until time proved me right.
“Don’t come at me with your ‘carinas.’ This is not a problem ‘I love you’ can fix.” I bit my lip. “I missed our son’s first steps for your paranoia.”
He swallowed and seemed chastened. “All I want is your safety.”
“And all I want is my freedom,” I snapped. “If you can’t give that to me, then good luck telling me what I can and can’t do when you don’t know where I am.”
