2

Evangeline

The instant I crossed the threshold, the air shifted. A chill crept along my spine, thick with menace, and I knew—something was very wrong.

Their eyes found me first. My mother’s hands were knotted together in her lap like she was praying for a miracle. My father sat in his armchair, whiskey sweating in his fist, newspaper crumpled in the other. Their silence cut sharper than any blade.

“Evangeline.” My father’s voice was low, heavy with the kind of danger that leaves no room for escape. “We need to talk.”

My pulse thundered as I stepped closer, my throat tightening. “Papa… what’s wrong?”

His gaze pinned me where I stood. “Where have you been?”

They knew. God help me, they knew.

The secret I had carried, fragile as glass, shattered in that single breath. I had told myself our love could survive the war between our families. But I had been naïve. So very naïve.

Drawing in air that felt like knives, I whispered, “I was with Alonzo Georgino.”

My father’s face twisted into fury, his chair creaking as he surged upright. “So it’s true?”

“Papa—”

“Silence!” His hand cut through the air. “What madness drove you to him? He is our enemy! Or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I said, voice breaking but steady enough. “But I love him.”

The words tasted like sin.

His brows crashed together, storm-dark. “In love? With Georgino’s son?”

“Yes.” The word left me firm, defiant.

His laugh was bitter, scalding. “A good man, you say? He’ll use you to gut me alive, Evangeline!” His fist slammed against his chest, and the room seemed to quake with his rage.

“You’re wrong,” I cried, though dread clawed at my gut. “If you’d only give him a chance—”

“Enough!” He closed the distance in three brutal strides, his shadow swallowing mine. “You’ve forgotten who you are. Forgotten where your loyalty belongs. Perhaps I’ll remind you.”

Bitterness spilled from my lips before fear could catch it. “Is that a threat, Papa? Would you truly strike your own daughter?”

“You betrayed me the moment you gave your heart to him,” he hissed. “And now—” His voice sharpened into steel. “You stand here carrying his child?”

The room imploded into silence. My mother’s gasp cracked it open again, her hands flying to her mouth.

My father’s rage curdled into something darker, something monstrous. His skin flushed red, veins standing at his temple. He loomed closer, his breath hot and furious. “Tell me you’re lying. Tell me you’re not carrying that bastard’s blood!”

“Papa, please,” I begged, tears spilling freely. “I love him. This child is—”

“Silence!” His roar shook me to the bone. The newspaper came down across my face with a sickening crack, fire exploding across my cheek. I stumbled back, clutching my skin as tears blurred the world.

“You think I’ll allow this disgrace to live?” His eyes were knives. “You will rid yourself of it. Or you’ll learn what betrayal tastes like under the lash. I will not let my daughter drag this family into shame.”

The darkness swallowed me whole before I could answer.

When my eyes opened again, it wasn’t whiskey or smoke I smelled—it was spice and candle wax. I knew this place, this safety. Alonzo’s bed.

“Evangeline.” His voice pulled me back from the abyss, rough and steady all at once.

“I tried,” I whispered hoarsely. “I thought I could make him see… that our families don’t have to be enemies.”

His eyes blazed with fury and something far more dangerous. “He had you beaten half to death!”

Tears pricked fresh. “I never thought he would—”

“You didn’t think at all,” he snapped, then softened, brushing a tear from my cheek. “You should’ve let me handle this. I can’t lose you, Evangeline.”

“I only wanted to be brave,” I murmured. “To prove that our love was stronger than hate.”

He shook his head, his jaw tight. “Bravery isn’t walking into your father’s jaws. It’s knowing when to run. And now—you must disappear. Hide where no one, not even I, can find you.”

My heart lurched. “What? No—my family—”

His growl was savage. “Your family is the one who left you broken.” His hand traced the bruises on my arm, reverent and furious all at once. “The moment you chose me, you ceased to be theirs.”

“I wanted to stand for us,” I whispered, choking on my tears.

“And you did. But now you must stand by surviving.” His breath brushed my lips as his eyes locked on mine, raw and unyielding. “Evangeline, ti amo. Sei mia, per sempre. But if you stay, I will lose you.”

His lips met mine, tender but fierce, and hope flared through the wreckage. For a moment, the world was only us.

Then the door exploded inward, slamming against the wall. Alonzo wrenched away, his body instantly a shield. His gun was drawn before the echo faded.

“Boss!” a man barked, suited in black, eyes sharp.

“What is it?” Alonzo snapped.

“Gavin Dominguez just dumped his right-hand man on the front lawn.”

My breath strangled in my throat. My father had killed him.