جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 80

Lana Xander spins toward the stranger, anger rolling off him in hard waves.“Mind your own fucking business,” he snaps.I try to see the man, but Xander’s long legs block my view. The only thing I catch is his shoes. Clean, expensive loafers. The overhead fluorescent light flashes over the metal detail and the interlocking Gs. I grew up a block from the Jade District, surrounded by fake bags and knockoffs. I know a real Gucci logo when I see one. This one is real.“You made yourself my business,” the stranger says. His voice drops lower, colder, wrapped in a clear Italian accent. “Any man who treats a woman like that earns my attention.”Xander turns fully toward him and finally lets go of my hair. My scalp throbs as I rub at it. I crawl on my hands and knees toward my backpack, keeping my head down.“Who the hell do you think you are?” Xander growls as he steps closer to the man.I risk another look. The stranger wears a black baseball cap and a dark trench coat. His face stays hidd

LanaI keep telling myself that no loan shark is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, ready to break my knees, as I climb up with a tray piled high with spaghetti and meatballs. My arms are already shaking. Thank God for Mrs. Moretti. She doesn’t like my dad much, so I had to lie and swear the food was only for me. Just me. No sharing.I stop on the last step and peek around the corner. My heart is loud in my ears. The hallway is empty. No strangers. No shadows. Nothing. I let out a slow breath and feel stupid for being this jumpy. So Dad owed twenty-five grand to some mystery group. That didn’t mean we were about to be killed, right? People owed money all the time. They didn’t just disappear.I walk down the hallway, careful and quiet. Then I see something on the floor in front of our door.A book.I freeze, then rush the last few steps, my pulse kicking up hard. It’s big. Heavy. Way too familiar. There’s a post-it stuck to the front.How did Xander manage to save it from the subw

LanaI rush past Mrs. Moretti’s door, walking faster than I should in heels this high. I keep my eyes forward and my shoulders tight. If she opens that door and sees me like this, she’ll lose her mind. The neckline dips too low. The hem barely covers enough. The red stilettos feel like a bad decision with every step.I don’t need to hear her voice out loud. It’s already in my head.“You crazy, Lana? You want men thinking you a puttana?”She wouldn’t be wrong. Not tonight. These shoes aren’t me. This dress isn’t me either. I only put it on because Xander bought it. Because he liked it. Because I need him to see me and want something. Anything. My father’s freedom depends on it.I pass La Dolce Vita Bakery, and the smell of sugar and warm bread drifts behind me. I slow down without meaning to. At least here I don’t have to worry about Mrs. Moretti or her son, Gianni. They won’t follow me this far. I turn onto Pine Street, my heart still pounding.Down the block, a man in a black suit i

LanaThe cannoli smell just as good as they always do. My stomach tightens and growls, loud and sharp, like it’s angry at me. I hesitate, but I force myself up the stairs instead of giving in and eating one right there. Dad has to be hungry too. I doubt he’s left the apartment all day, and we don’t have much food left anyway.I reach the top step. My eyes lock on our door at the end of the hall. It’s half open. Hanging crooked.Cazzo.I run the rest of the way, the warm bag of pastries slipping from my hands and hitting the floor. My heart slams so hard it hurts. I grab the doorknob. It’s barely attached, held on by one rusted hinge.“Dad?” I call out.Nothing answers me.A memory crashes into my head. Another apartment. Dark. Too quiet. Blood on the floor. Too much blood. My eyes burn, but I force the tears back. I’m not a kid anymore. And Marco “Nonno” Sterling was gone. He couldn’t be part of this. He couldn’t.I push the door open slowly and step inside. My body tenses, waiting.

Lana“Please…” I press my teeth into my lower lip and hold it there until the shaking eases. It doesn’t stop completely, but it’s better than letting him see it.I would rather beg this man than Xander Chen. Any day. “There has to be another option. Some other way to handle this. A different schedule.” My voice sounds too loud in the small room. “I’ve been sick. I couldn’t work for weeks. Dad lost his job. We just need time. One more month. That’s all I’m asking.”My hands fumble as I reach into my purse. I pull out my checkbook and set it on the desk like it’s a shield. Dad doesn’t know about this money. He never did. I hid it on purpose. Every extra shift. Every skipped meal. Every dollar I could save went into that account. My escape fund. My backup plan. I thought I still had time. There’s just under a thousand left.“I can give you five hundred right now,” I say, rushing the words before anyone can interrupt me. “And I’ll have the rest by the end of the month. I swear.”Malcolm