I stand in front of an abandoned twenty-story building.
Under the afternoon light, the construction debris that surrounds it looks like apocalyptic crops.
But this isn’t just any building.
This is the same hideous, half-naked building in which my father killed someone in cold blood while the FBI witnessed it. They were late and couldn’t save my father’s victim, but they arrested him.
Back then, I stood by the corner, shielded by two agents, and watched as they led him out of the building, handcuffed and with a sneer on his lips.
A few hours before that, I’d heard him talking on the phone with one of his underlings about a guy he was personally going to kill to send a message to some rival family. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard such a conversation. My father was arrogant enough to overlook me and my morals that developed completely independent from his.
Before that, I had been too scared to go against him, and I still was, but the image of my dead mother is what pushed me to follow him and make that call to 911. They forwarded me to the FBI because he was already under close scrutiny by them, so any information was welcome.
Honestly, I was half expecting the operation to fail and for my father to kill me, but when I saw him being led out by the officers, a huge weight lifted off my chest.
It was also one of the few times I allowed myself to cry until no tears could come out.
That’s when I realized I was truly on my own.
I thought I would feel relieved for avenging my mother’s death and sending him where he belonged, but those emotions were short-lived after I realized how dangerous of a man he actually is.
The fact that he chose this place twenty-five years later is a reminder that he always had a hold on me, even from behind bars.
I can’t be weak, though. Not now when he has my daughter.
Straightening my spine, I enter through the half-built door. The stench of piss, alcohol, and something rotten hits me in the face. An indication that this place was used by all the lowlifes that roam the city.
I take the stairs as fast as I can, hoping, no, praying for the first time in my life that Kingsley will be able to find us.
With Nicolo’s help, he might.
As per my father’s instructions, I had to leave my bag, phone, and everything else behind. I parked the car a few blocks away as he told me, but I hope it’s close enough for Kingsley to guess where we are.
Naturally, I couldn’t call the police or let my bodyguards follow me.
This is family business.
Also, I couldn’t risk having Gwen hurt in the process.
By the time I arrive at the top level, I’m panting like a dog. My jacket and hair stick to my neck with sweat and my feet scream in pain.
However, all discomfort disappears when I catch a glimpse of Gwen strapped to a rolling chair that’s a few inches away from the edge. As in, the edge of a dilapidated balcony with no railings, from which she can be pushed to her unavoidable demise.
Duct tape is strapped around her mouth, nearly reaching her ears. The afternoon light casts a haunting halo on her silhouette in a shock of yellow and orange. Her hair is disheveled, and her eyes almost bulge out as she observes the dark corners of the piece and the construction debris lying on the ground.
When she sees me, moisture gathers along her lids, and relief like I’ve never witnessed on her face rushes in.
“Gwen…don’t worry. I’m here.” I jog toward her.
My feet come to an abrupt halt when a shadow strolls from around the corner and stops beside Gwen’s chair.
It’s been twenty-five years since I last saw him and those years didn’t treat him well.
Bruno Locatelli has mean looks, narrowed brown eyes, and a pointy nose. A slash that’s the result of an assassination attempt runs down his left cheek to his thin lips.
His hair that was once black is now almost completely white. He’s always been a big man, but now he’s plumped up in an extravagance of muscles and fat.
The only thing he passed down to me is his height and a strong bone structure. Otherwise, I always looked like a non-docile version of my mom.
“Hello, my red dahlia.”
There’s no sneer in his slightly accented words, no mocking, and almost no infliction whatsoever.
I suspected my father was abnormal after I saw him kill the neighbor’s dog for making too much noise and then threatening to kill said neighbor’s son when he came asking about his dog. Later on, I realized he was definitely on the antisocial spectrum and used the mob life to quench his thirst for control, blood, and manipulation. So the fact that I put a damper on his plans sits wrong with him.
Very wrong.
“What do you want?” I ask in a neutral voice that doesn’t betray my shaking insides or how my heart nearly spills out onto the ground.
I always thought I’d clash with my father. That sooner or later he’d find me. And I’ve been ready for it all my life—and that includes the times when I was trying to rise above it.
The only difference is that before now, I didn’t have Gwen or Kingsley. I didn’t have a life that I wanted to protect with everything I have.
“Is that any way to greet me after all these years? Shouldn’t you at least come hug me?”
“You never hugged me before. Why should I do so now?”
A distorted smirk lifts his lips, revealing a golden tooth. “You were always a resilient one, my red dahlia. I should’ve named you that. It fits you better than the name your mother chose for you. She said Aspen is a tree with delicate heart-shaped leaves that quake with the gentlest breeze. We both know your mother was a hopeless cause and you’re anything but what she envisioned for you. Despite being a woman, you grew up to be tougher than all of my men combined and even willingly chose the mob life. That was an audacious move that you’ll pay for. Not only did you pick up the life you locked me up for, but you also turned my boss against me. But if Nicolo thinks I’ll let you go just because he told me to, he must not understand the extent of my need for revenge. This is personal and he had no room to fucking interfere, which is why I escaped.”
“You…escaped?” But why didn’t the guard call me?
“He’s dead.” My father circles Gwen like a deadly animal, and she watches his every move, shrinking into her seat.
“Who’s dead?”
“The guard you bribed to watch me. I stabbed him ten times in the fucking heart. One for every year he spied on me for you. Oh, and by the way, he had two beautiful children that he often talked to the other guards about, so congratulations for orphaning them.”
My fingers tremble, but I clasp them together, refusing to give him the reaction he’s trying to get out of me. “Nicolo won’t let your disobedience slide. I work for the family now.”
“Nicolo can go fuck himself. I’ll just go solo after I take care of you. Though I must say, I like how smart you’ve become. You take that after me. Shouldn’t you thank me for it?”
“Thank you for what, exactly?” My blood boils and I march toward him until I’m only a few steps away from him and Gwen. “For supplying me with a shitty childhood, or abusing my mother until she took her own life? Which part should I be grateful for?”
His expression doesn’t change, appearing completely unaffected by my outburst. “The part where you’re still alive and have come this far. If I hadn’t asked my subordinates to raise you after I was arrested, thanks to your betrayal, you wouldn’t have had enough misfortunes to harden your soul and expel the naïvety your mother implanted in your heart. You can never be strong if you aren’t broken.”
“You…you were behind Aunt Sharon and Uncle Bob?”
“Of course. They were all a pawn in my game. I told them to roughen you up a little and give you colorful memories to carry. You might have put a guard to watch me ten years ago when you became a lawyer, but I’ve been observing you every step of your life. I had my men follow you around and two live-ins. That was Bob and his wife, Sharon. But the two idiots screwed it up when you got pregnant. I planned to make you a single mother, but Bob and Sharon overhead my other men who followed you around talking about the potential father and acted out of pure greed. When they took that rich woman’s money and let you run away, I got rid of them.”
“But why?”
“I had no use for them anymore. But seeing how broken you were from losing the baby, I let it slide. It was better torture than having you become a teen mom.”
I shake my head, fighting the tears that are trying to escape. “No. Why did you do all of that? Was it your god complex? Revenge?”
“Nothing that immature, no. It was just so you’d be aware that your life was in the palm of my hand, my red dahlia. The moment I decide to crush you, I will. That moment happens to be now.”
He pushes Gwen’s chair and it slides to the edge. Her muffled shriek sounds haunted in the silence when she’s about to tumble down. I jerk forward, but he slams his leather shoe against the foot of the chair, catching her at the last second.
I swear my lifespan has shortened by a few years as I stare into her huge, bugging-out eyes. But I force myself to go still even as my heart beats so loudly, I can hear the thumps in my ears.
“Why now?” I ask with a calm I don’t feel. I need to keep him talking, to distract him enough until help comes.
“See, ever since you sent me to prison, I’ve been waiting for the moment when you had everything you wanted. A career, a family, a man. The reason I didn’t get out isn’t because I couldn’t, it’s because the right moment hadn’t come yet. As you can see, I could’ve escaped at any time, yet I didn’t for the Lucianos’ sake. But I have no loyalty to whoever takes away my revenge. I will make you feel what it means to lose everything.”
He pushes the chair and she tips to the edge so that she’s half dangling and only my father’s hold on her collar keeps her upright.
Gwen screams again, her whole body going into shock. I swallow any sounds bubbling in my throat so as not to freak her out. So even though I’m being ripped apart from the inside, I give my daughter a reassuring glance and tell her what I used to say to her while patting my belly. “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay. I’ll protect you.”
“That’s a bold promise.” My father’s grating voice cuts through my head as he nonchalantly retrieves his phone while still holding Gwen by a handful of her dress. “My sniper on the other end of this line will take out your baby’s father in the blink of an eye.”
Both Gwen and I freeze.
“What?” He smiles in that manic way. “You thought I’d make it easy for you and only capture your daughter? Where’s the fun in that?”
My lips tremble, but I set them in a line. If I get lost in the emotional loop he’s trying to lure me into, I’ll definitely lose both Gwen and Kingsley.
“Tell me what you want.” I lift my chin, refusing to cower.
“To make you pick. Will you watch your daughter’s brains explode on the concrete below or receive your lover’s head on a platter? I’m curious which poison you will choose to swallow, my red dahlia. Your child or the man who gave you that child? If you choose her, she’ll hate you for the rest of her life for being the cause of her father’s death. If you choose him, you’ll hate each other for losing her. Isn’t this a beautiful conundrum?”
A tear falls down my cheek as the scenarios he just painted repeat in my head like a distorted film.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself either way. No matter which choice I make.
A pained, muffled sound comes from Gwen as she shakes her head frantically and struggles against her bindings.
“It’s okay,” I say with fake strength.
“What’s it going to be?” my father asks, jamming the gun against her head.
“Let me hug her first.”
He pushes the whole chair and I run forward, but he pulls her back again right before she falls off. “Why do you look like the dead? Have you no sense of humor? I was only testing her resolve, which is extremely weak, by the way.”
My body feels foreign as I gulp in large intakes of air, closing the small distance between me and Gwen.
My father steps aside. “So it’s going to be her father? You realize he sacrificed his youth for her, right? Do you think you’ll be alive for long if he knows you killed his daughter? With his character, he might become your new worst enemy, even more than me. Your desperate attempts to escape his wrath will be fun to watch, though.”
I ignore him and kneel in front of Gwen, then remove her duct tape as gently as possible.
“Don’t…” she sobs as soon as the duct tape is off, gasping and panting and barely able to get the words out. “Don’t choose me, please. I can’t live without Dad.”
I pull her head against my chest, holding her with a hand in her hair. I don’t know if the shaking is her or me. Or both of us. My voice is brittle when I attempt to soothe her, “Shhh. It’s okay, Gwen. It’s going to be fine. I promise.”
“Please…please…not Daddy…please…”
I step back and stroke her hair away from her face. “You’re the most beautiful thing that has happened in my life, Gwen. I would have you all over again if I got the choice. I love you more than I love myself.”
Two tears stream down her cheeks. “I love you, too. I always wanted you in my life, but not like this. Please don’t choose me…please…”
I squeeze her in another hug and whisper in her ear, “Tell King that I love him.”
And with that, I release her.
The shocked expression on her face slowly morphs into realization, but I don’t focus on her as I turn to my father.
“So touching. I almost shed a tear,” he says with an expressionless face. “Who’s it going to be, my red dahlia?”
“Can I hug you first?”
The request takes him aback and he narrows his eyes on me. “What kind of game are you playing?
“You wanted a hug earlier. Forget it if you don’t want it.”
“You think I’ll fall for that?”
“Gwen, roll away!” I shriek, pushing her from the edge as hard as I can.
When my father sees, he curses and starts toward her, but I use the small distraction to push my body against his. He’s way bigger than me, so the element of surprise plays in my favor.
I share one last look with Gwen and mouth, “I love you.”
“Mom, no!”
The sound of “Mom” from her mouth puts a smile on my lips, and a tear slides down my cheek as I hug my father and push us both off the edge.
“I choose you, asshole,” I say as we both tumble down.
In the last moments, I think I hear Kingsley’s voice calling my name.
