Page 14 of The Prizes We Win
“What is?”
“Your relationship withthem.”
I narrow my eyes. “And why is that?”
“You know…” Dad leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, mimicking my posture. “I’ve explained this countless times in the letters you and your brother bothered not to read. And”—a fake yawn spills past his obnoxious mouth—“I’ve had a taxing day. Being a captive is extremely tiring.”
Why do I not remember this asshole being so fucking smug?
Probably something to do with the fact that I spent half of my adolescence being terrified of him and avoiding him in every way possible.
Standing, I push my seat back. The sound of the metal legs scraping across the floor fills the room. But, Dad doesn’t so much as flinch. I rest my fingertips on the tabletop like I have in business meetings with rooms full of powerful men many times before. Except this is just one man. And he isn’t amanat all.
“I could bring them in here right now, you know? You’d be dead before you even had a chance to shit yourself.”
“But you won’t. Because I’m the only person who knows what the Novikovs' plan is. Without me, you havenothing.Otherwise,you all would have killed me in the middle of the street.” I can feel my breath pick up pace. Because he’s right. Right now, as much as I hate to admit it. We have nothing. “That’s what I thought. And I’d rather take my chances with you than those fucking Russians. So yeah, I think I’m going to bide my time a little bit longer.”
Slowly, I walk around the metal table. Hooking my foot around the leg of his chair, I spin it to face me. I don’t know which one of them it is, but I hear the handle to the door jiggle slightly. I immediately hold my hand up in the direction of the one-way mirror, and the movement stops.
“What are you going to do, Joey? Hit me?”
His sinister eyes look up at me. Sometimes I still can’t believe this is the same man I once idolized. The same man I thought was my very own hero.
That hero is long gone now.
Which is why it takes me all of a half-second to answer him. “Yup.” In a flash, my fist connects with his nose, and blood immediately starts pooling out of his nostrils. “Stop fucking calling me Joey.”
Spinning on my heel without another word, I calmly walk toward the door, leaving Dad to stew in his own blood.
The door opens just as I reach for the handle. A tan arm reaches through the threshold and pulls me through it. Next thing I know, I’m crashing into Luca’s chest, and he’s looking down at me through those damn glasses.
I’ll never get tired of seeing him in those glasses.
“You did so, so good, Vita Mia,” he says gently as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Yeah?” My voice suddenly sounds shaky. Like the comfort of being in his arms is finally allowing my body to have a natural reaction to being that close to my dad.
Luca drops his head and kisses my lips. I can still taste his morning cup of coffee. “So good.”
Dante steps up to my side and kisses the top of my head. “Way to land the punch, Mama.”
I rest my face against the center of Luca’s chest and look over at Sebastian. “I’m proud of you,” he says.
I smile softly at him before my gaze finds Enzo’s, who has an all-too-inappropriate look in his eye. “What’s that look?” I ask, wiggling my pointer finger at him.
His green eyes bounce between Luca, Sebastian, and Dante before he blurts out, “Now can I fuck her?”
And despite everything that just happened, I snort out an obnoxious laugh, just as Sebastian smacks Enzo on the back of the head.
“Ouch!”
“What is wrong with you sometimes?” Luca groans.
“What? Seeing Joe be violent makes me horny.”
“Holy fuck,” Dante mumbles.
“I am who I am, okay!” Enzo exclaims.
