Page 39

I grab the note and climb into my car. When I’m sure no one is looking at me, I rip the envelope open.
In perfect calligraphy, it reads:
You can move, and you can hide, but in the end, I will get what I want.
My breathing comes out in short pants, and my hands tremble as I throw the letter in the passenger seat and start my car. He knows I live here. He knows what car I drive and where to find me.
I have no escape.
I have to tell Joseph and Arturo what’s going on or pack my car and run away. Since Joseph is at the arena, I drive straight to Arturo’s house.
He’s on the phone when I lightly knock on his office door. One glance at me and he says, “I’ll have to call you back.”
He tosses his phone on his desk and motions for me to come in. “Alexandra, come in and tell me what’s wrong.”
I shakily walk to the chair in front of his desk. Sitting down, I place my bag on the floor and let out a shaky breath.
Where do I start? How do I tell him I’m being blackmailed by the man who is holding my father hostage?
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My vision blurs as tears sting my eyes. They fall like a cascading waterfall.
Arturo jumps out of his seat and makes his way over to me, as if I’m injured. He probably thinks I am.
“Alexandra, what’s going on? You can tell me anything. I’ll listen and won’t interrupt. I won’t get angry or jump to conclusions.”
I meet his gaze and sob.
I can’t tell him what happened Friday afternoon. I can’t be the one that breaks the trust between us.
This time when I open my mouth, I confess to everything, and true to his word, he doesn’t interrupt.
“This morning I found a letter on my windshield with Giuseppe Rossi’s seal. I don’t know how long it was there or who all saw it, but it was noticeable to me.”
I dig in my bag and pull out the letter and hand the paper to him. He quickly reads it before placing it on his desk.
“When I was loading boxes into my car to move into my new apartment, I was kidnapped by Giuseppe Rossi’s men. He has my dad locked up in his house. He put me in a windowless room. He hasn’t been paying off his gambling debt.”
I try to string my thoughts into coherent sentences, but it all comes out in a jumbled mess.
“Giuseppe knew my true identity. He knew I ran from my past and changed my name. He was going to kill my dad if I didn’t agree to work with him. He wouldn’t let me leave and the smell was turning my stomach.”
I pause to grab a tissue off Arturo’s desk and dab my eyes. So much for wearing mascara.
I whisper, “I was so scared.”
A ball of emotion forms in my throat, preventing me from swallowing my saliva. I hang my head in shame as I let the tears fall for several moments.
This is it. Arturo is going to hate me forever. He’s going to tell me to pack my shit and get the hell out.
I’m going to be homeless, family-less, and jobless.
When the tears subside, I look up and say, “I would never betray you like that because I think of you as a father figure. You let me spend every holiday with your family, here in your house.You three have been my family for two years, and I would never turn my back on family.”
Without speaking, Arturo walks back to his chair and gently sits down. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk and his chin on his fists.
This can’t be good, right?
I slowly move my gaze over his face. His lips are set in a hard line, but his hands are balled into tight fists. His eyes are closed, but his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. His breathing is normal, but it could be the calm before the storm.