“It is a mercy that God didn’t give you one,” I spat. The hate burned like acid in the pit of my stomach.

“You are my daughter!” he roared.

I flinched at his outburst, but I refused to whimper down. “No, I’m not.”

“Your mother kept you from me,” he yelled, his silver hair all disheveled.

“No, my mother saved me from you,” I told him, full of bravado I didn’t feel. Fake it until you make it, wasn’t that the motto? And I swore on my mother and my girls that I would kill this bastard in front of me. I didn’t care if it was the last thing I ever did on this earth, I would kill him. “You are going to die,” I vowed.

He laughed. “You got balls, girl.”

I rolled my eyes. No comment needed there.

“You inherited something I want,” he switched the subject suddenly.

“And what’s that?” I asked, acting like I didn’t give a shit while inside I prayed it wasn’t my girls. Anything but my girls. I guess that was what my mother was praying for too when she found out she was pregnant.

“The Amalfi property.”

It was not the answer I expected. I narrowed my eyes on him, trying to figure this man out. I really didn’t like him. The menace seeped out of him in gallons. And to think he gave me life. Ugh!

He must have had at least one single, decent sperm, and thankfully that one gave me life.

“Why?” Not that I would give it to him.

“Because it belongs to me,” he purred.

Delusional. That was the best adjective to describe this man.

“I’ll never give you that property,” I rasped out, titling my chin in defiance. “It belonged to my mother’s family, and you will never get it. Even if it kills me. If you-”

“Don’t toy with me, Bianca,” he interrupted harshly. “You’ll find out I can be persuasive.”

I scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

He threw his head and laughed. Actual full blown laughter. Maniac! He belonged in a psych ward.

“You are the best one out of all my worthless children.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered. “Exactly the title I didn’t want.”

He lifted his phone and dialed. “Bring him in.”

I slowly shifted away from him, my bare feet cool against the tiled floor. Jesus, what happened to my shoes. If that door opened, I’d run. Even if I had to use the football skills John and William taught me. It was time for a touchdown.

Dear Lord, let me get this. Right now.

I sucked at sports, but I could run very fast. I just needed to shove through Benito and whoever was coming.

The door opened and Nico was marched into the room, his hands bound and five men trained on him.Fuck!

“Hey, Cara Mia,” he greeted me, seemingly relaxed. But he was pissed; his jaw ticked in that familiar way.

Our eyes met and I read nothing in his stormy gray eyes. His dark hair was slightly ruffled, but he strode in with confidence. Like he wasn’t the prisoner here.

His eyes traveled to my mom’s body, and for the briefest fraction of a second, sorrow flashed in them, but he quickly masked it.

“Ah, my son-in-law.” Benito’s smile was wintery and cruel, sending fear straight to my bones. “We’ll have to end our relationship. I never gave my daughter permission to get married.”