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“Clem and I have business to discuss now, but you can come by later.” His eyes flicker over me, taking in my disheveled state. “After you’ve cleaned yourself up.”

Of course. Clemenza comes first. He always has.

“Sure, Papa,” I scoff, keeping my voice steady.

I glance at Clemenza and hold his gaze just a little longer than necessary. He meets my stare head-on, then smiles—a smug, satisfied curving of his lips that makes my skin crawl.

Is he smiling because he knows I can’t tell Papa the truth? Or that Papa wouldn’t believe me if I did? My reputation for sneaking out and spinning elaborate cover stories doesn’t help my case.

Shit. My habit of telling lies might just get me killed.

Feigning defeat, I slump my shoulders and head toward the kitchen. It’s not hunger driving me—my stomach’s a knot of nerves—but the hope that Clemenza would follow.

I grab a water bottle from the fridge, the cold draft calming as it hits my face. In less than a minute, the kitchen door opens, then closes with a thud that seems to echo in the silence.

There you are. I knew you’d come.

Forcing casualness, I lean against the cool metal of the fridge twist the cap off, and take a long drink.

“You’ll worry him into an early grave with your sneaking around, Luna,” Clemenza’s voice slides through the quiet, wrapping around me like icy fingers.

I keep my back to him for a beat, letting the tension build, and then I spin around and force a smile.

Injecting just enough insolence to bait him, I smirk. “We both know you worry about me more than him. Perhaps if I were a son, it’d be different. Although these days, it’s far more profitable to have a daughter, wouldn’t you say?”

He chuckles softly, then takes a step toward me.

“You didn’t go to Evanston, Luna.” His dark eyes glitter with something I’ve never noticed before—or maybe never wanted to see. “I could smell that lie from clear across the room.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t in Evanston.” I meet his gaze steadily.

“Tell me where you were and who you were with.” He looks around, and his voice lowers conspiratorially. “You know you can always trust me.”

My pulse spikes, but I keep my expression neutral and mirror his teasing smile. Time to test Rocky’s warning.

“I think you already know, Clemenza.”

There’s a flicker of something dark in his gaze. “One thing I know for sure is that you’re in trouble.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and feign nonchalance. “Am I?”

“Look, if someone is threatening you . . . telling you to do things . . . to hide things from your family, you don’t have to do what they say, Luna. Let me help you.”

“There is one thing you could do, Clemenza.” I pause, watching his face carefully.

“Help me cook up a better story tosellPapa so he’ll beef up my protective detail.“ I step closer to him and get right in his face. “Maybe something about the gridlock on the way to College. Slow-movingtraffickincreases the chances of beingkidnapped,right?

I deliberately emphasize the words: ‘sell,’ ‘traffick,’ and ‘kidnapped,’ Each one a bullet aimed at his facade.

He doesn’t say anything at first, and then there’s a shift in the air as he emits a dark chuckle. It’s like watching a mask slip just enough to glimpse the monster underneath.

“Cara,what would be the point of speaking to him? It’s bound to happen, gridlock or not. With the way you keep sneaking around, no one can protect you. Not your Papa, not Diego, not theRockyplace you were hiding all night, and clearly not me.”

Oh shit.Clemenza knows who I was with last night.

“So do us all a favor, and stop running, Luna.”

“Okay,” I say flippantly, despite the panic clawing up my throat. “I’ll stop sneaking around.”