Page 89 of Beautiful Sinner

“We’re here to escort Ms. Vincheti. You need to leave the area,” Sanchez stated as he moved closer to my family.

“Like hell!” Niccolo huffed. “We’re not going anywhere.” My hotheaded brother was more distraught than the others.

“What the hell is going on, Giada? You didn’t call. Your entire family was worried after the fire,” Salvatore threw out. While I truly adored all my brothers, I couldn’t handle their typical bravado tonight.

My nerves were frazzled, the whirlwind of the last few days leaving me exhausted, my anxiety high.

“I don’t have time to explain to any of you. I came here to see Dad, and the only way I can do that is if you wait in the visitor area.” Jesus. They all stared at me.

“Let Giada see her father,” my mother insisted then squeezed me on the arm. “He’s been asking for her since he got here. I cleared it with his doctor. I knew you’d come home after you heard.”

That was interesting. What was so important my father needed to see me? I thought about what little Sevastian had told me. There was no doubt that he’d left out an entire portion, but I’d learned enough to realize he was concerned. My father was in the middle of this new potential war. I felt it in my gut, and I needed the truth. While I did care about my father’s welfare, I remained livid. No one was ever going to treat me like a doormat to be walked on again.

Including my own goddamn family.

I made certain I seemed sad to hide the anger and anxiety. I was on pins and needles, already worried about Sevastian. I’d never seen such rage within him, a quiet anger that was festering into an explosion.

“Honey, you can’t stay very long. His visitation is limited, but you need a chance to see him,” my mother said, still carrying her motherly tone more for the benefit of the others.

Valentin continued his harsh glare toward Sanchez before I pushed my hand against my brother’s chest.

“It’ll be okay,” I muttered, although I knew it wouldn’t be, at least not emotionally.

At least my brother turned away without issuing a threat, following my other family members down the hall. When he looked back, the fact I couldn’t read his expression was another irritant.

“Just a few minutes,” Sanchez stated. “Sevastian was clear.”

“I know the rules.” Rules kept us alive. Sevastian had made the statement but so had my father. Right now, all I could think about was that nobody followed the rules of humanity or Christianity any longer. It was all dog eat dog. It was past time I handled myself the same way.

As I walked into the room, I was struck by all the machines, my mouth going dry. Valentin had been in a hospital room just like this a few years before. A gunshot. Another situation where I hadn’t been allowed to know any details.

After a few seconds, I walked closer, my heart hammering against my chest. Seeing him this way was like a knife being driven into my heart, but it didn’t take away the fury. I could swear he’d aged by several years.

Inhaling, I moved closer, studying him before taking his hand into mine. “I’m here, Papa. I know you wanted to talk to me. I’m okay.” All I could do was pray that he was cognizant enough to provide something, anything that could help.

I closed my eyes, making the sign of the cross and saying a heartfelt prayer. While my faith wasn’t as strong as my mother’s, the silent prayer allowed me some comfort. He remained unconscious, but his breathing was more rapid. I had to try to get through to him. “What happened, Papa? Who threatened you? What kind of horrible deal did you make?”

The beeping sounds kept shivers coursing through my body. I squeezed his hand, worried time was running out. “I need to leave, Papa, but I hope you can hear me. You were shot. The Colombians? Are they out to take over the city? Did you make a deal with them because of your hatred for the Kozlov family?” My tone was terse, but it was impossible to tamp it back.

After waiting another few seconds, I started to pull my hand away. Damn it. He grasped it tightly, more so than I thought he could manage. When he started to pull my arm, I was shocked to see his eyes were wide open, clear as if nothing had happened.

“You did hear me. You know exactly what I said. Talk to me.” I leaned in closer.

“Just listen to me,” he whispered, his throat hoarse from the experience.

“I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry. You need to know that.” He took several deep breaths before continuing, the sounds labored. “I exchanged one blood contract with another.”

Blood contract? “Contract? With the Kozlovs? Who else?” Did that mean my father had offered me to someone else? The Colombians. A tight grip wrapped around my throat. I knew about their reputation, their disregard for women. It couldn’t be possible. That was crazy.

He nodded weakly. “It was a lie, but it… backfired. Rojas wanted everything, not a… partnership. Then he fucked me. When you almost died… I just… I went ballistic, started killing them. Everything got out of hand.”

Oh, my God. I closed my eyes, trying to remain calm.

“What are they planning?”

“Killing the Kozlov family, but more. So much more.”

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