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You’d think she was in the right, but… didn’t offer to take her daughter with her or anything. Probably becauseshewas a woman half my father’s age, and if the shoe fits… yikes. What am I saying?

I pull up to my house, up the white stone driveway where my big bonsai plants are standing healthily. My dad’s Porsche is outside, and so is… hm… I don’t know that car. Black AMG Mercedes with tints. Probably a Lucrazi debrief from the case.

Once I get to the deep chestnut wood double doors, I notice there’s nothing blocking my Ring camera, which is weird. Whydid it show up black then? And the door is open. What kind of buffoon did my father let into the house—

“It’s not over!”my dad screams desperately, and my heart drops into my belly.

“Dad!” I shout back, running in, only for a grimy hand to clap over my mouth. I taste dirt on my lips when I try to scream. Are the gardeners freakin’ robbing us?

He pinches my nose so it’s even harder to breathe, and my elbows go mad. I’m using all the Oprah self-defense moves in my arsenal – stomp out his feet, try to knock his balls. All of it is bullshit when a barrel-chested bear just squeezes a little harder and all of my air is restricted.

Boom!

He kicks the door shut and whips me around to face the couch.

“Caught a fly, boss.” The man cackles. His breath stinks like pizza with anchovies. “Hey, you.” He turns my head with the hand that’s still over my mouth. “If you stay quiet, everything will be okay. If not…” He whips out a blade with dried blood on it. “Understand?”

I’m numb with fear. All of the snarky comments flying through my head dissolve into tears. What else can I do but nod as I eye the man? His teeth are stained brown from coffee, lips large to compliment his fat cheeks. Every part of me wants to spit in his face, but when he holds the point of the blade to the zipper of my shorts, all the blood drains from my face.

“Not a sound,” his voice rattles like a lawnmower, then his hand comes off and he pushes me onto the seat. I curl into a ball only to immediately unfurl when I see my dad being dragged out by a guy in a pin-stripe suit and a pair of brass knuckles.

“Daddy!”I can’t help myself, but the knife that glints and presses against my throat shuts me right up.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Dad’s eye is swollen shut, blood leaking from his mouth.

I shake my head in disbelief. In all my years – all of them – every visit by a different family was all cheers and scotch. Was I an idiot to think he built up some kind of unbreakable loyalty?

My thoughts immediately go to the pepper spray in my bag on the floor.Don’t look at it, I tell myself, swallowing past a lump in my throat.

“Is it okay,Daddy?” Pin-stripe pulls him by the hair so his throat is exposed. “How are we going to fix this?”

“I told you, Sonny—”

Whack!

Dad spits out a splash of blood.

“That’sMister Lucrazito you. How fucking dare you talk to me on a first name basis like you know me?How fucking dare you?”He winds up again.

“Stop,” I cry. “Please.”

Both men look at each other and start cackling. “Too late for that, sweetie. Esko was to get out a free man today.Daddydone fucked it up.”

“I told you, Mister Lucrazi, we still have appeals.” Dad raises his hands pleadingly.

My first instinct is to furrow my brow, but I stick to my very real tears. It’s going to take time to even start that process… time my dad doesn’t have.

“I can prove that video is doctored,” Dad speaks as calmly as he’s able with blood leaking out of his mouth.

“Then why didn’t you prove it,then, in court?”

“You saw that jury. They turned on him. Any attempt during the late end trial would’ve made us look desperate. Now, though? We get that evidence thrown out,he walks.”

“After all the headlines. After all the buzz.All eyes on our fucking family… and you dare to tell me Esko is going to walk?” Sonny gets in his face.

Dad doesn’t shy away. “I guarantee it.”

Sonny scoffs and whips Dad back so he falls on his ass. “Well, Rocco, if that’s a fact, then maybe I’ll owe you an apology for that black eye. But if not… I’m going to take my sweet ass time cutting that silver fucking tongue out. My brother isn’t going to sit in a cell for one goddamn second more than he has to. Not after he took the fall for me.No fucking way. You have twelve hours to produce that proof, or you’re a dead man.And, if I find out you’re full of shit.” He points his finger at me. “That pretty little daughter of yours is going to lose her vocal cords, so that way the Dotelli line of snaky lawyers ends there.You fucking understand me,you prick?”