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There's an ache in my throat as I struggle to find any words. It shouldn't matter who her father was. No one deserves to be murdered. And definitely not killed and tossed into a swamp to become gator food.

"Sam told me he wasn’t a good person. And that he framed him for his father’s murder..."

Lana nods. "He wanted Uncle Junior dead, and while I don't think he pulled the trigger himself, I know he was behind it. He hurt a lot of people Sam cares about. Me included. "

I meet her eyes, hazel orbs that seem to be filled with grief. I want to ask her what happened, but I don't want to pry.

"I was supposed to marry someone else when I met Naz," she says after a moment. I stay quiet, giving her space to continue. "My parents arranged the marriage. He was…awful."

Tears sparkle in Lana's eyes, and guilt fills my chest. "You don't have to tell me?—"

"No." Lana shakes her head. "I want to. You should know who my father was."

I nod, albeit shakily.

"I wasn't the one who was supposed to marry him at first. My father arranged for him to marry my older sister, Lily." A single tear drips from the corner of her eye. She wipes it away quickly. "I was young. I don't know what happened. But Lily went on a date with him, and when she returned…she jumped off her balcony. She died from the impact."

My breath catches in my chest. "Oh my god." I can't imagine what Lana went through. "I'm so sorry."

"After that, my father promised me to him instead. The arrangement was part of a business deal, and Davis wanted a wife. He wanted to be part of the Costello family, and Lily'sdeath wasn't enough to stop him. I didn't see a way out. My father got whatever he wanted, so if he said I was marrying Davis, then I was marrying him. I wasn't supposed to be with Naz, but I just wanted an escape. A moment for myself before I gave my life to this man. Davis was cruel, and when he found me with Naz, he nearly killed him. Sam stopping him is the only reason Naz is alive today. My family didn't want us to be together, so I saw him in secret." She smiles fondly when she talks about Naz, but it quickly falls when she thinks about her ex-fiancé. "He was violent toward me. And what's worse, my dad couldn't be bothered. He would've happily sent me off to wed that man who would've beaten me every single day. My existence would've been unbearable, and my parents didn't give a damn whatsoever."

She swipes away another rogue tear. "Sam helped us get away. If he hadn't…I'm not sure I'd be alive today."

I can't imagine what it would be like to have your parents, your protectors, hand you over to a wolf with no care for your happiness and safety.

"I hope this helps you understand why I don't care that my father is dead. Actually, I think I'm happy he's gone. He wasn't a good man, Olivia. If Sam wouldn't have killed him, Naz and I wouldn't have been able to come home."

Her words tumble through me, tilting everything I know on its axis.

Murder is wrong, and that's something I've always known as a fact. You can't just go around killing whoever you want, whenever you want. But Lana's story blurs the lines between right and wrong, creating a murky gray where I'm not sure what's okay and what's not.

Her father sounds cruel for forcing her into an unwanted marriage. Especially after her sister killed herself to escape it. How many daughters was he willing to lose, all for a businesstransaction? And then I think of Sam, how he spent eight months in prison because he was falsely accused of murdering his own father.

I kind of want to kill Damien too.

That line becomes a permanent shade of gray and, suddenly, Sam Costello doesn't seem so evil anymore.

TWENTY-SIX

Olivia

Once upon a time, my mother fell in love with a gangster.

My father wasn't in the mafia, per se. But he was associated. Not that it mattered when they came to collect his debts. There was no loyalty to the man who owed them money. I don't think my father was really a criminal, not how my mother tells the story. I think he just hung around them, kept a gun under the bar, and had a lot of cash from gambling.When he won, at least.

Still, my mother recounts the turmoil my father put her through with malice. And every time, the story ends with a clear warning.Never fall in love with a criminal.

She's currently on speakerphone, her voice droning on about something or other back home while I cut lemons and limes. Even Roman, who's sitting on the opposite side of the bar, looks like he's about to fall asleep listening to my mom talk. Joey is at the other end of the bar, taking care of our afternoon customers, two regulars who arrive every day at 4 p.m. for their after-work beers.

"I wish your father wouldn't have left you that silly bar."

Here we go again.

She's switching topics, probably because I wasn't interested enough in her country club tales. Roman perks up at this new conversation starter, and I roll my eyes.

"Mom," I groan as I scoop up the lemon slices and drop them in the appropriate container.

"I know. I know. But you had so much going for you up here! And he goes off and dies and now you're a bar owner in New Orleans." She scoffs, and one of Roman's eyebrows raises.