Chapter Six

Celia

Only I couldn’t let it go. When I told Hank, the owner and vet for the clinic I worked at, who knew my dream was to one day work with him then take over his clinic, he offered to pay for half of my school as a loan without interest. He saw it as an investment because he wanted me to take over. His son is a pediatrician in the far west suburbs. He hadn’t made any other connections to partner with and didn’t want the practice to close when he was ready to retire in ten years or so.

If that was true, then maybe, just maybe, I could get Carlo to give me the rest. So more than a week after I met with Carlo, I demanded another meeting with him. Yes, I had to ask for a meeting with him.

The bastard put me off for four days.

He was in a bad mood the minute I walked through the door. “What do you want now, Celia?”

I took a deep breath, trying not to lose my temper. “The owner of the vet clinic is willing to pay for half of my school. All I need is ten thousand. Please, Carlo—”

He scoffed. “What the fuck I gotta tell you? I’m not paying for school. It doesn’t matter if it’s ten or five grand. Shut the fuck up about it.”

“Why can’t you help me for once in your fucking life?” I hated that I was crying in front of him. I wasn’t sad; I was frustrated I couldn’t kill him.

“Sonny! Get her the fuck out of here.” Carlo shouted to one of his soldiers.

“I’m your daughter, you asshole! I’m not a fucking lackey for you to toss out when—” Sonny grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me out of Carlo’s office.

I couldn’t believe it. “I hate your fucking guts. My greatest hope is you get cancer like Johnny and it eats away at your body too!”

Sonny let me go when he closed Carlo’s office behind us. Anger firing me up, I pushed hard against him. I managed to catch him off guard and he went into the wall.

Another of Carlo’s soldiers, Al was there and laughed at him. “She almost took your ass out.”

Sonny backhanded me across the face, sending me off my feet. The blow left me stunned, my ears ringing. While I was out of it, he grabbed me by the arm again and shoved me out of the house, then slammed the door and locked me out.

I fell, still stunned. My mother appeared at my side. Sighing, she muttered, “Why do you have to fight with him? You shouldn’t say such things to him. He’s your father.”

Her words hurt worse than the blow from Sonny. I blinked back tears caused by her—not Sonny. “Why do you never fight for me? He says awful shit to me all the time. You never say a word until I say them back. If he were my father he would give a shit about me. But he doesn’t and neither do you.”

“Celia, please, you don’t understand.” She grabbed my arm to help me up.

I shook her off. “No, I don’t understand. I don’t understand why it’s always Carlo. How come it’s never me or Carina, even one time?”

She didn’t say another word or try and help me to the car. I didn’t look back as I drove home.

The next day I almost didn’t go to school. I didn’t want the other kids seeing the huge bruise. I was already an outsider, with my weight, dyslexia, and being held back a grade when I was ten because of a teacher who thought I was stupid despite the dyslexia diagnosis. And I might have brought a kitten to school a few times to feed. Kids called me the weird cat lady.

Most of the mafia kids went to private schools—there was a Catholic school and a regular rich place. Capos sent their sons to the rich place and their daughters to the Catholic school. Carlo hadn’t cared enough to send me and Carina anywhere. We went to public school in Evanston.

While it was better than half the schools in Chicago, the kids felt childish compared to the mafia sons and daughters I knew. They’d never dealt with their fathers coming home with blood on them. Or men in and out of the house at all hours, being taught how to shoot a gun, learning how to pick locks, playing hide and seek in old speakeasies.

When I got called into the office by the guidance counselor, I was sure it was about the bruise. It wasn’t. I won a scholarship. It paid for everything. Not just tuition and housing, it covered another fifteen hundred dollars a month as a stipend to live off of and a thousand dollars in housing if I decided I didn’t want to live in the dorms on campus. All the years of school necessary to become a veterinarian, as long as I maintained a C average.

I was stunned. How could it be?

The guidance counselor shrugged. The scholarship was created by the family of a recent vet student who loved animals. She saw students around her dropping out because they couldn’t afford school even though they earned their place. Her dream was to create a scholarship fund for those who wanted to help animals.

Since I had contacted the school a few days ago to decline due to insufficient funds, they submitted me for the scholarship, and I was approved.

Three days later I was still on a high when I texted Milos that Koshka was ready for him. She’d had her shots and was healing from being spayed last week. He told me he was busy during the day, he couldn’t come until this evening or the next day. It was up to me.

Milos was coming—wanted to come here? After everything that happened, I expected him to send someone.

Since it was Friday night, my mom was spending the weekend with Carlo. Carina was meeting with a client for design work at six thirty and said it would probably take a few hours.

The idea of seeing him again was already causing my chest to twist and stomach to tighten in anticipation. But the idea of seeing him alone had me breaking out into a sweat. I paced as I told myself, Tell him to meet me at the clinic tomorrow. I swear it’s what I meant to type, but it came out as he could come by tonight, whatever time worked for him. Since I was a night owl, I would be up until midnight.

He texted back that in that case, he’d like to take me out for dinner as a thanks for taking care of Koshka. Seeing it, my hands were trembling too badly to type, and I dropped my phone. Crap, not the thousand-dollar phone. Thankfully due to the ugly-as-fuck case I bought for it, there wasn’t even a scratch on it.

No need. Between the car and the phone, you’ve done more than enough.

I sent it and waited with air frozen in my lungs until he responded.

There is every need. Mine.

Blushing so badly I nearly passed out, I couldn’t come up with an answer that didn’t sound stupid. I guess I took too long to respond because my phone chimed again.

Tell me what you like and I will bring it to you.

The command was it. I gave in because there was no denying Milos Levin, and in the end I didn’t really want to.

I usually love Italian food, but I’m in the mood for Chinese if that’s okay. The place Great Wall on Chicago Avenue and Main Street does really good rice noodles with chicken and crab rangoons. Pretty much everything is good there.

I’m not sure why I was wincing as I waited—prepared for the blow of him saying never mind. Only for his response to come quickly.

I will see you at seven.

Falling back on my bed, I sighed. It didn’t matter Milos Levin was everything I shouldn’t want, should stay as far away from as possible—I was drawn to him as powerfully as a moth to a flame. What made it worse was I had no doubt I was the one who’d be burned in the end.

I changed seven times before six thirty. In the end I went with a pretty purple long-sleeve velvet sweater and basic black leggings. Then I saw the bruise matched the sweater. Shit, I needed to cover it up. My only problem was I didn’t have any makeup. I knew how to use makeup, but only because I watched and helped Carina with her cosplay stuff. It was all hers. She’d been locking her door lately when she left. She said it was because she thought Mommy was going through her room. A week ago stuff was moved, then again the other day.

Nonna taught me how to take off a set of cuffs by the time I was ten and how to get into most safes by twelve. Locks were a little harder and took until I was thirteen. I could break into her room—it just felt wrong.

The doorbell goes off. No freaking way, it’s seven already? Ten minutes early but still. Damn it.

Opening the door, all the air in my body leaves me in a rush at the sight of Milos Levin in all black filling the doorway. I stumble back into the house, giving him room to come in.

“Good evening, you—” He breaks off as he steps forward, his big hand catching my chin.

So every single time that electric shock was going to happen? My stomach twists, filling with heat at his touch. Suddenly I want—need his hands everywhere on my body. His touch is a brand burning into me.

“What happened?”

Ice slides down my spine at the danger in the softly spoken words. I can’t shake my head, he’s holding me so tightly. “Nothing, I—”

“Do not lie to me, Celia. I do not like liars,” he growls.

A gust of wind hits me from the open door, causing me to shiver. Milos lets go of me, stepping further inside. He pulls the door from my numb hand and closes it behind me, all without ever taking his eyes off me. “Tell me. Who hit you?”

It’s happening again, the violence is rolling off him in waves. This is a man who has killed and will kill again—if I give him a name.

I’m afraid, but not of him, and I’m not sure if it makes me naïve or not. Deep down I trust he won’t hurt me. It’s why I felt safe enough to yell at him—it didn’t matter what I said, Milos wouldn’t hurt me. Right now, I’m afraid of what will happen if I give him the name.

I shake my head. “I tried talking to Carlo again about money for school. It didn’t go well. This was my own fault. I was dumb and pushed one of his men. He got embarrassed and…”

“The one with slicked-back hair and a chain around his neck like an extra on a bad mob movie?” Lethal intent flows out of him, inky dark and alive.

How did he know it was Sonny?

The smallest of nods. “He is the type to hurt a woman if his ego was bruised.”

Shit. I shake my head, unable to verbalize the lie. “I deserved it. Please, let it go. If you do something you could start a war. I’m not worth that.”

His frown is so scary I step back from him. “You are worth far more than you could ever imagine. Your father does not deserve your protection from a war of his own making by not protecting you.”

How could he think that? Eyes wide, I shake my head again. “I’m not protecting Carlo. I mean you. Carlo is relentless when he’s crossed. I am begging you to let this go.”