Page 56 of Bad Blood

“Where is she?” I say, feeling panicky.

“It’s not safe for her in New York... Not now that her sister has lit a bomb under a box of fireworks.”

“But she has her finals next month! She won’t graduate!”

Oh God, it’s like Bardi just demanded another half a million from me.

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Don’t do this.” I reach out to touch his arm—to halve some of the distance between us for Ella’s sake. “Let her come back. I’ll speak to Santi. Call a truce with Valentin Carrera before it wrecks all our lives.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” he roars. “The sooner you come to your senses and hire a fucking divorce lawyer, the sooner she can return and graduate.”

Is there anyonenottrying to blackmail these days?

“Where’s Reece?”

“Re-deployed,” he says viciously.

“Did you hurt him?”

He smiles, but there’s no warmth to it. “I might have shown him and his team my displeasure for letting you fall amongst the sharks of Atlantic City. Your security won’t be so lax in future.”

The bars of my prison cell start looming again.

“What does the son have over you, Thalia?”

I swallow quickly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I want the truth,mija, so I can ram it into his chest before I rip his heart out.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.I knew he’d see through this wedding in a hot minute, but I refuse to ruin my sister’s life any more than I already have.

“Don’t bullshit me,mija…”

“The marriage is real,” I croak. “My life is in New Jersey now. With him.”

“Shame.” His word sounds like a bullet hitting bone. In a daze, I watch him lift the phone to his ear. “Just know that I never wanted this life for you, Thalia. You sought this out yourself.”

“You’re wrong,” I say, shaking my head. “You had this life and all its petty vengeances wrapped around me like a straitjacket from the day I was born. I couldn’t escape it, even if I tried, so I had to adapt. I learned to live with it… To survive. And now you want to punish me for it.”

“Jackson,” he snaps into the mouthpiece. “One minute.”

“One minute to what?” I demand.

He gives me that cold smile again. “One minute before the Aston Martin receives a new paint job.”

“Please don’t shoot him,” I whisper. “For me.”

If Carrera dies. I won’t get the money I need. Bardi wins.

That tic starts jumping in his jaw again.

Without waiting for his response, I turn and run.

With my overnight bag in my hand, I can feel his dark shadow moving up behind me as I reach the front door.

“You walk out like this, Thalia Santiago, and you’ll be a fucking widow by nightfall,” he warns.