Page 60 of The Wrong Fiancée

That brought me up short. "My father?" I asked, confused.

"Si," Dante grinned. "He's in Kauai, don't ask me why, when, and how, 'cause I don't know. He brought in a lawyer and shut the whole thing down. The cops backed off. Elika's fine."

"When did this happen?"

"A few hours ago. I just found out." He took a sip of his drink. "Leilani was going crazy, but I was with Nonno, and my phone was turned off."

"Elika's okay?"

"Yeah."

I took a deep breath, trying to process the wave of emotions crashing through me: relief that she was okay, anger at Felicity and Ginny, and guilt—so much guilt—that any of this had happened because of me.

"She was handcuffed," I muttered, the thought cutting through everything else. "She was in a police station because of me."

"Dean,amico, you can't think like that," Dante protested. "This isn't your fault. It's Felicity's. She's the one who set this up, not you."

"But she did it because of me," I snapped, the guilt twisting my insides. "If I hadn't brought Elika into all of this, none of it would've happened."

"They were after Elika long before you met her," Dean reminded me. "In any case, the cops now have a case against Felicity that her father is probably going to clean up for her—but they've been asked to leave the resort and not come back. In fact, Idoubt anyone in Kauai will welcome them after this hits the gossip airwaves."

"Which you've made sure will happen?" I asked sardonically.

He grinned, raising his glass. "Si."

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to keep the frustration and anger from boiling over. I couldn't stand the thought of Elika—strong, independent Elika—being humiliated like that, thrown into some jail cell because of a vindictive plan hatched by Felicity and her mother.

"I need to call Dad and…. Fuck, I need to call Damian. He needs to handle Hong Kong while I get my fucking life in order." The words came out before I'd even fully thought them through, but they felt right.

Dante looked at me sideways, a slight smirk on his lips. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

I drained the rest of my drink; the bitterness of the Aperol was nothing compared to the unpleasantness I felt inside. I pushed the glass away and stood up, already feeling the urgency pulling me.

"I should've never left her there to deal with this," I grumbled, more to myself than to Dante. Not that I could've done anything else. I had a life, I had work, I couldn't be in Kauai all the freaking time.Damn it!

"You can't undo the past,amico. But you can fix the present."

"Any clue as to how I can do that?"

"I wish I could help you. But I got nothing."

I threw the last of my clothes into the suitcase on the bed, barely paying attention to what or how I was packing.

My suite at the St. Regis was a masterpiece of European luxury—marble floors, high ceilings with ornate molding, and thick drapes that looked like they belonged in a Roman palace. The plush king-sized bed was still perfectly made, untouched since I'd barely slept.

The elegant details—the gilded mirrors, the antique furniture,even the view of Piazza della Repubblica glowing outside—felt suffocating and far, far away from where I needed to be. Every second in this room felt like wasted time.

My phone rang, vibrating on the dark wooden nightstand beside a half-empty tumbler of whiskey. I grabbed it, seeing Dad's name flash on the screen. I'd tried to reach him but couldn't, and I had left numerous voice and text messages asking him to get the F back to me.

"Dad, how is she?"

I didn't need to explain whoshewas.

"She's fine, son," Dad's calm voice said. I could hear the soothing confidence he always carried, but it wasn't enough to put me at ease. "She's here with me, resting. After what she's been through, she deserves some peace."

"With you? Where?"

"I rented a small place on the beach close to the resort." I heard the sound of ice cubes against glass. "But I think it's big enough for the family when they get here."

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