I couldn’t breathe. My chest hurt.
The bedrooms were empty, and for a second, I felt dizzy with the realization that soon, very soon, my childhood home would be gone. Its walls would absorb someone else’s memories. Host someone else’s Christmas mornings.
My father and I no longer lived here. And only one of us would get to keep the memories.
“I had everything up here moved into storage so you could go through it and decide what you want to keep,” Dominic said behind me. “They also made some cosmetic updates to the master bathroom.”
“How?” I whispered.
“I called in a crew. It took them four days.”
It would have taken me four hundred. And he knew it.
I turned to him, and his face softened. “Don’t do that, baby,” he said, thumbing away the tears that rolled hot down my cheeks. “Please don’t cry. If I’d asked, you would have said no.”
He was damn right I would have said no. I’d have clung to my plan. My timeline. My budget. And in doing so, I would have continued to endanger my father’s future.
“I know you’re behind on your dad’s bills again. This moves up your timeline and gets you out of the red now rather than a few months down the road.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“If you’re mad, say it. I can take it,” he said, dragging me into his chest and holding me hard against him. “I have several well-thought-out arguments planned.”
I pulled back and cupped his face in my hands. “I’ll pay you back. Every dime,” I croaked.
He rolled his eyes, letting me know exactly what he thought of that idea.
“Shut up,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
“You really did this for me?” I asked, my voice so tight the words came out as a squeak.
He nodded.
“I don’t know if I can ever—”
“Forgive me?” he guessed.
I shook my head. “Thank you. I don’t know if there’s a way to say a big enough, loud enough thank you. This is everything. And I’m totally mad at you. And a whole lot of other things. I never expected anything like this, Dom.”
“I don’t want a thank you. I wanted you to have your life back.”
“You gave me a lot more than that,” I breathed. My throat was so damn tight like I’d swallowed a swarm of hornets. “I love… that you did this. Even though I’m also really mad. No one has ever done anything like this for me. This is huge. Thank—”
But he was covering my mouth with his and kissing the words away.
63
Dominic
“Don’t forget your meeting with the real estate agent Friday,” I reminded Ally, closing my menu and setting it aside.
We’d snuck out of the office for lunch today.
She bounced in her chair to a beat only she could hear. “I’m so excited and nervous I don’t know if I’ll survive that long. What if it appraises for more than I thought? What if it’s less? What if the market crashed, and it’s worthless? What if the buyers are horrible people and want to use the basement as a killing ground for their serial murder business?”
I gave her an exasperated look. “There’s a lot that goes on in that brain of yours,” I observed.
She gave me a very deliberate once-over and sank her teeth into her lower lip. “You have no idea.”
I grinned when her foot slid up my ankle under the table. “Did you pick out any sheet music yet?” I asked. She’d been on the hunt for a few of her father’s favorite pieces to play.
“As a matter of fact, I did. I downloaded a couple of songs, and they all look a whole lot more complicated than I thought they’d be.”
“Most things are,” I mused.
We ordered our meals, and when the server left, Ally leaned forward. “So I never got the chance to tell you about Christian’s shoot for Label’s YouTube channel while you were gone.” I went from admiring the way her eyes sparkled to being vaguely annoyed.
“I really don’t like you spending time with that guy,” I told her.
“Dominic Russo, you went to LA and hung out with some of the world’s most beautiful models at afterparties. Do you hear me complaining?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. Right now.”
“Christian and I are friends. And you better get used to him being around because—”
“Dominic!”
The voice, the familiar tone of it, had my blood going to ice.
He looked the same. Distinguished in Armani, his full head of silver hair ruthlessly kempt in the same style he’d had my entire life. Paul Russo was nothing if not consistent. Whether it was with his appearance or his disgusting appetites for things that didn’t belong to him.
He had the audacity to pull up a chair and offer his hand to Ally. His black onyx pinkie ring winked ominously.
“You must be Ally. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt her watching me, and when she made a move to accept his hand, I took it instead. This man wasn’t touching her. I wouldn’t let him put those fingerprints on her.
“What do you want, Dad?” I demanded coolly, my gaze never leaving Ally’s face.
Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.
“Always in a rush,” he laughed in a facsimile of fatherly affection that wasn’t fooling anyone. “All right, my boy. I’ll cut to the chase.”
“You do that.”
Ally squeezed my hand.
“I need a little something to tide me over until the divorce settlement,” he said. “You know your mother. She’s dragging this out just to annoy me. I need a few hundred thousand.”
Ally’s eyes went wide.
“Salary from Indulgence not cutting it?”
My father’s charm cooled. Indulgence was a respected publication. But it was no Label. We both knew it.
“That’s neither here nor there,” he insisted.
The only time things mattered, the only time the world was supposed to care, was when Paul Russo was winning.
“I tell you what, Dad. I’ll give you the money.”
Ally’s eyebrows winged up.
My father looked surprised, then smug. “I appreciate that, son.”
“I’m not finished. I’ll give you the money when you pay Mom and me back for the cash settlements we paid to your victims.”
Our joined hands were vibrating, and I didn’t know if it was Ally’s fear or my rage.
“Oh, please. We both know those girls were just looking to make a quick buck—”
I rose so quickly my chair nearly overturned. “I’ll show you out,” I said coldly. “It’s time for you to go.”
He rose and straightened his jacket. He gave Ally another appraising look. “If you ever get tired of Dominic—”
I clamped a hand on his shoulder and walked him out of the restaurant, barely resisting the urge to throw him into the planter at the entrance.
“I don’t need an escort,” he complained. “I need money.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your needs. You stay away from Mom. You stay away from me. And you stay the fuck away from Ally, or you will regret that you ever called me son.”