Page 47 of The Prizes We Win
I’m not afraid of him.
I’m afraid of the memories.
I’m afraid of the pain he once caused me.
But he can’t hurt me anymore.
They won’t let him.
Iwon’t let him.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before opening the envelope and pulling the letter from it.
My eyes quickly scan it before opening another. And another. And another.
And by the time I’ve made it through a dozen letters, the anger that was burning within me before is nothing compared to the raging inferno I feel now.
This motherfucker.
Grabbing Enzo’s gun that Luca sat on the table with one hand and this box ofbullshitwith the other, I head toward the stairwell.
30
Josephine
“Joe, wait!” Sebastian yells as a herd of footsteps runs after me down the stairs.
“Josephine!” Luca’s voice sounds both angry and concerned. But I don’t stop.
I can’t.
Not after what I just read.
Just as I’m about to reach the door a large hand reaches out and grabs my arm. He quickly spins us around so he’s in the way of the door. “Amore Mia, don’t do this.”
Tears sting at my eyes again, except this time I’m not sad. No, I’m fucking furious. “Dante. Open the door.”
“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” his deep voice says to me.
My hand flexes around the handle of the gun. “I’m not going to regret anything. Now, open. The. Door. Dante.” I can feel wavesof concern rolling off of everyone behind me, but I can’t think about that now. I can’t think about anyone else besides the man in the other room. His eyes follow a lone tear as it trails down my cheek. “Please.” My voice is nothing but a desperate whisper.
“Josephine, just—” Dante holds his hand up, effectively silencing Luca. Dante inhales a deep breath before nodding.
Dante will always do what’s best for me.
Raising his leg, Dante thrusts his large foot at the door, kicking it clear off its hinges. My dad springs from his relaxed position on the bed as Dante steps aside and lets me through.
The moment Dad’s eyes land on me, I chuck the box of bullshit letters right at his smug fucking face. It hits the desired target and pieces of paper fall across the room like confetti. “Money!” I shout. “You wanted fucking money?!” My voice is almost unrecognizable. “After everything you’ve done, after allowing me to not have a single moment of peace after all these years, after constantly making me look over my shoulder wondering when another one of these”—I bend over and pick an envelope off of the floor—“was going to show up, the only thing you wanted from me was MONEY?!”
He looks stunned for a moment, afraid even, before his usual conniving smile takes over his face. “I was wondering when you’d find those.” He looks around me before chuckling deeply. “Looks like you’re missing someone. Enzo, is it?”
Cocking the gun, I point it right at his head. “Don’t you say his fucking name.”
Dad sighs and looks past the barrel of the gun, right at me. “If you’d have just opened the letters… all of this could have been avoided.”
“What does he mean, Joe?” Dante asks.
“He’s been working with the Russians since I was a kid. That’s who he was selling drugs for,” I hiss.
