Page 48 of Bitter Prince
“Which daughter?” I gritted, but deep down I knew.
“Reina.”
Over my dead body.The words burned on my tongue, but they remained locked between my clenched teeth. Static filled my ears and rage boiled through my veins like wildfire.
Instead, I smiled cruelly as I tampered down this rage. I stared at him with indifference while I contemplated the best way to murder Reina’s father and bury his bones in an unmarked grave. He didn’t deserve anything better.
“Why not Phoenix?” Dante asked, his tone cold, but something lingered in his eyes. Unhinged and ready to unleash.
“She’s deaf. It’d be hard to find a good match.” Romero’s eyes darted my way, and I didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking. The illegitimate son would settle.
Fuck. Him.
I’d never settle for anything or anyone. Reina Romero would be mine. I wished she were already mine, for reasons I didn’t want to explore. The girl had inched her way under my skin and it felt right. She should have a grip on my heart, because it thundered for her.
“You call yourself a father?” Dante spat out. “You should be protecting them, not pimping them out.”
Romero let out an exaggerated exhale. “That’s rich coming from anyone in the Leone family.”
He had to be referring to Father’s dealings in human trafficking from his early days. Maybe I should end both men, because neither was worth a fuck in my book.
My gaze found his eyes again. Unlike his daughters, he had black beady eyes, a receding hairline, and unattractive features. His daughters definitely favored their mother. While Reina didn’t have a single attribute of Romero’s, Phoenix’s hair color was his exact shade.
“Whatever,” Dante ended up answering. “I don’t give a shit what you do. You used the Leone port, now you have a week to come up with the money.”
Dante’s eyes darted my way, and I gave him a barely noticeable nod.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” he said, standing up and buttoning his suit jacket. He would look around and see if he could locate a safe. He’d need to be wary of the girls, but he didn’t need me telling him that.
I waited until the door closed behind me before speaking. “I can help you make the money you owe, and more, in less than a week,” I baited.
For the past few years, I’d been laying the foundation for my revenge plan. Now would come the trap.
“How?” His tone was suspicious. He had every right to be. When you fucked someone over, you should always expect karma to come back to you. One of my favorite Japanese sayings was, ????, akuin’ akka, translating literally to “evil cause, evil effect.” My mother had been preaching it my whole life, either to convince herself or me that eventually Romero would reap what he sowed.
Well, I was done waiting. So, I was speeding up the process, and I’d use Reina to finish her father off. We’d been gaining Romero’s reluctant trust for years. Now we’d smother it to ash and make him pay for using my mother for her connections.
My mother needed the document that Ojisan and Romero signed. She claimed it would restore her honor, and I owed her that much. I’d use Reina to learn where her father’s safe was so I could get my hands on that document.
One way or another, I’d get that fucking document for my mother.
24
REINA
We were walking through the narrow street on our way to the gondolas when I reached into my purse to grab my phone. Lowering my eyes, I started digging for it and realized my wallet was missing too.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “I forgot my wallet.” I was so distracted while getting dressed that I forgot both. Distraught at seeing Amon with Papà, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was brewing.
“That’s okay,” Athena said, her hand looped through mine. We’d just gotten to the gondola that would take us across the canal to Piazza San Marco. “I’ll cover you.”
I shook my head. “I forgot my phone too. I’ll go back and grab it real fast.” My eyes flitted to the gondolier. “Can you wait, please? I won’t be long.”
“I have money,” Phoenix signed. “Just come on in. You don’t want to run into Papà again.”
I shook my head. “I left my phone. Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I’ll sneak in and out.”
With a terse nod, I turned around and ran back to the house, slowing my steps right before entering the villa. It was a Liberty-style villa influenced by Greco-Roman architecture, or so the lifestyle magazines loved to boast about. It had been featured in many over the years, likely because of Mamma’s name. People sure loved a taste of Hollywood.
