Page 86 of Second Chance Daddy
I’m already moving.
The trade’s dead. I’m ready to kill any bastard who comes in my way.
This ends my way. And I’m going to get my daughter back—or die trying.
26
CASSIE
The clock’s taunting me.
Time doesn’t exist anymore. Just heartbeats. Just breath. Just the sound of my shoes wearing tracks into Tina’s hardwood floor.
I’ve been pacing this goddamn living room so long the floorboards probably know my shoe size by heart. But I can’t stop or sit or even breathe properly, not when every minute that ticks by means Aria’s still… gone.
My daughter is out there somewhere with a monster who wants to make a deal.
And I know by now that one doesn’t win when making a deal with the devil himself.
I wish I had gone with Dante.
“Cass, you need to sit down,” Tina says. “You’re wearing yourself thin, babe.”
Tina’s parked on the couch, watching me like she’s seconds from sedating me. Her version of falling apart looks prettier than mine, but I know she’s barely holding it together, too.
I don’t tell her the truth. What right do I have to sit and get comfortable while Aria’s terrified somewhere? Right about now, I feel like the worst mother on planet earth. Heck, take it to Pluto.
“He’ll bring her back,” Tina tries again, but I hear the tremor she’s trying to hide. The fear that’s eating at her, too. “Dante always comes through.”
My hands are shaking too badly to pretend.
Where are they? Where is he?
“What if he’s too late?” My voice cracks. “What if Gino?—”
“Don’t.” Tina cuts me off sharply. “Don’t go there.”
But I can’t stop my mind from racing through every nightmare scenario. Aria crying for me. Aria hurt. Aria?—
No. I can’t even think about it.
“It’s been three hours,” I whisper.
Tina stands and catches my arm as I pivot for another lap. “Cassie. Look at me.”
I do.
“My brother is many things.” Her grip tightens on my arm. “But he’s never failed at protecting what’s his. And that little girl? She’s got his blood. He’ll do whatever it takes to bring her back.”
But what if he can’t? What if this is the one time Dante Romano isn’t invincible?
I pull away, the panic clawing up my throat like a living thing. The bile claws at the back of my throat, sour and thick. I close my eyes, try to keep it down, but my mind spirals back, dragging me under to the day everything changed.
It plays like a movie I hate, one I wrote with my own hands and can’t rewrite now.
Three years ago. Back in Chicago for some divorce stuff. The hotel bathroom.
A ragged, rundown place, I knew Gino wouldn’t think to look twice. Whenever I hit Chicago, I never told him where I really stayed. Fearing he’d be waiting outside, watching like a hawk.
