I wasn’t sure what we would do, but one thing I did know: I wasn’t letting her go back and risk her life for that bastard. The man had sold her to the Mafia, likely to save his own ass. He’d dug his own grave as far as I was concerned. I would do what I could to save him for Emmy’s sake, but I wasn’t letting her risk her life for his.
A second later, her phone rang. I was about to cancel the call and pulled it from my pocket, but she said, “Wait. Let me talk to them.” I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea, but she added, “It’s my dad’s phone number.”
She took the phone from my hand and picked up. “Dad?” her voice was shaking.
I couldn’t make out what her father said, but Emmy took a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry, dad. I can’t do that. I can’t hand myself over to Antonio.” She paused, listening. “You shouldn’t have made this deal, Dad, and I’m sorry if they hurt you. You know I wouldn’t want that. But I have to take care of myself now.”
My heart swelled with pride as I listened to her stand up for herself. All the fears of her turning herself in to save her father subsided. She was crying, it clearly wasn’t an easy task for her, but she had the strength to say no.
“No, Dad, you don’t understand—” She looked at me before turning and walking down the hall. I was close on her heels. She whispered, and I could barely understand the words. “It’s not just about saving myself. There’s a lot you don’t know and I—”
She turned back around and saw me, frowning, and added, “I’m not coming back to Vegas.”
Her hand was shaking, and she leaned against the wall for support. Her eyes closed and she sniffled. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I wish things could have been different, but you sold me for a business deal. I love you, and I always wanted you to love me, but clearly you love money more.”
Her eyes opened slowly, tears falling, and met mine. “Goodbye, Daddy,” she said softly before pulling the phone away from her ear and hitting the end button.
She dropped her phone to the ground again, but I didn’t bother to pick it up. I cradled her against me, her head buried in the crook of my neck. I stroked her hair, her curls soft under my fingers. I could barely hear her cry.
“I’m proud of you, Emmy,” I said softly. “I know it was hard, but you did the right thing.”
Emilia
He was proud of me.
Those words touched something inside me because I couldn’t recall the last time anyone had been proud of me for anything. My mother, maybe? Since she’d died before my memories began, I had no idea if she had. But I would bet she had been proud of me and had loved me very much. I’d been so young back then, and I didn’t even realize how much I wanted to hear those words until Graham muttered them to me.
I closed my eyes and tried to think of my father telling me he was proud of me. High school graduation. I was the valedictorian of my class. I stood up in front of hundreds and gave a speech, even though public speaking scared me, and he knew it. I scanned the crowd for his face, and just as I was finishing my speech, he rushed into the building and slipped into his seat. Later, he would tell me it was a nice speech even though he’d missed all of it. He told me he’d been there the entire time. But he hadn’t been, and I knew it. I never told him.
When I got accepted into my first choice of colleges, I expected congratulations. Instead, he tried to talk me out of it. He told me I would make someone a good wife one day and didn’t need a college degree for that.
I opened my eyes and stared at Graham, sniffling.
“I know my dad isn’t a good man. I lied to myself for years, but this, well, it’s hard to deny it anymore,” I said. “It opened my eyes to a lot of things. I don’t want to see him hurt, but I won’t be a slave to his business dealings.”
I don’t know why I told him that or why I felt so comfortable sharing it with him. I had never talked to anyone about my father before. Not Liv. Not my cousin Miranda. No one knew the struggles I’d dealt with in regard to my father. No one knew how I truly felt.
Until I told Graham.
He squeezed my shoulder, and the look on his face filled my heart with such warmth. He looked at me the way I had always wanted someone to look at me - with care and concern in his eyes. His face softened and his eyes were gentle, even though his face itself was rugged.
I felt safe with him.
Too soon for that, I reminded myself. I hardly knew him. I hadn’t been with any men before, so how could I be sure I was the best judge of character? Graham seemed almost too good to be true.
But I instinctively believed it to be true, even as I told myself not to.
“You don’t deserve the way he treated you, Emmy. Your father made his bed, and he needs to lie in it. You shouldn’t have to pay for his shortcomings with your life.”
I nodded. “I know, you’re right. But it’s more than that, Graham. It’s not just a concern over my life—”
I stopped short of telling him. The real reason I couldn’t go back wasn’t because of my fear of marrying a man I didn’t love and spending my life in misery. I might have done that to save my father, no matter how horrible he’d been to me, because the idea of anyone dying because of me was horrible. But I had to make a choice in that moment - my dad’s life or the life of the innocent child growing inside me. I knew Antonio wouldn’t let me keep another man’s baby, and the baby hadn’t done anything wrong. He or she didn’t deserve to die because my father made a deal with the devil.
I decided Graham deserved to know the truth, but before I could find the words, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Mason walked in from outside, soaking wet.
“Still raining?” Graham asked dryly, chuckling to himself over his terrible joke.
“What do you think?” Mason said with a cheeky grin.
“Not letting up at all, eh?”
“Nope. Not one little bit.” Mason looked between Graham and me. “Did I interrupt something?”
Graham glanced at me and I nodded, letting him know it was okay to tell Mason. After all, we were working together, right? They needed to know.
“She got a call from her dad. Lombardo has him and is threatening to kill him if she doesn’t return to Vegas.”
Mason cocked an eyebrow. “And?”
“And Emmy told him she’s not going back.”
“Damn,” Mason said, running a hand over his beard. He shot me a grin. “Good for you. Not many people would stand up for themselves like that.”
“Well, he dug his own grave,” I said, holding my chin up high. I tried to appear strong, but a lingering doubt in my head and heart cried out to me. He’s your father, Emmy, a voice spoke to me inside my head. He’s family.
Blood alone doesn’t make someone family, another voice argued. He had proven to me that I was worth nothing to him long ago, and he got us into this mess.
My child was my family. And I was the only person who could protect it.
“Any news on the roads?” Graham asked.
“The bridge leading to the property is still holding up, but barely,” Mason said. “Samuel’s working on alternate plans. We may end up having to leave this place and head for higher ground.”