Page 153 of Cara

At this height, the wind hits with such force that I nearly lose my balance. Xavier’s grip is the sole support preventing me from falling as he positions himself between me and a group of men in suits.

Our literal worst fear come true.

The waves lap against the harbor below, sea salt mingling with clouds of cigarette smoke. My father stalks stealthily to my side, a menacing presence.

Xavier’s reaction is instant.

Within seconds, he’s invading Vito’s space, looming over him like a shadow ready to deliver death. He offers a glimpse of the monster he keeps hidden inside—the Phantom of this evil underground that kills and relishes it. The Phantom people whisper about on corrupted wire taps and run from in the streets. Tension crackles in the air, so thick that my father flinches, his confidence shattered as he stumbles back into one of the heat lanterns, the flickering light revealing a brief moment of vulnerability.

“Don’t,” I whisper, squeezing Xavier’s hand, pleading with him to let it go. “He’s not worth it. Look at me. Listen to me. Baby, he’s notworthit.”

I say so much, soft words, scrambling to talk him down. Keep him sane and with me, so he can be here for Isabella.

We can’t win this. Not with her here.

“You came on time. You brought your wife. You fulfilled your end of the bargain,” Dominic says over my hushed whispers, tossing his cigarette butt over the edge of the railing into the depths below. “Now, give me Cara.”

There's something so sinister about the way he says thename Xavier gave me to escape this life. The name Xavier sent me off with so I’d never forget how he felt.

My skin crawls as Dominic reaches his arm toward me.

Xavier shakes his head slowly. “You’re out of your mind if you think I'm doing that without Isabella by my side.”

“You’ll have the advantage then.”

“What advantage?” Xavier gestures to the army currently caging us in. “I don’t have a weapon.”

Dominic grins. “You’re the weapon, my friend. You really think I don’t know who you are?”

“You have the two most important people in my life in your possession right now. Do you honestly think I'm going to jeopardize them both for a fight I won’t win?”

My father’s eyes shrink, trying to find the catch, but there isn’t one. Dominic understands that.

“Fine. Hand over the girl.”

Isabella screams in fear as she sprints toward Xavier’s legs. When she crashes into them, his hand shields the back of her head, gently stroking her disheveled hair. “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

My eyes close in relief, all tension easing from my body.

Because this fight—I can finally let it go.

Dominic lifts his brows, anticipating the final exchange.

Xavier’s fingers are cutting off the blood flow to mine. “I need to say goodbye.”

Dominic rolls his eyes, but allows him to face me. All that occupies my mind is finding a way to ease this for him, yet my hands betray me. I’m shaking, trying to smile, aware it doesn’t help him at all.

Xavier wraps tense arms around me as his daughter weeps uncontrollably at his feet. He tenderly wipes the tears that fall from my eyes, leaving streaks on my burning cheeks. With a gentle stroke of his thumb against my trembling lip, he leans incloser, whispering a soft, lingering kiss onto my mouth before turning to his daughter.

“Say goodbye to Sophie.”

As I crouch to hug her, my legs shake as I try to untangle her hair. She’s talking and pleading, but I can’t hear her words over her fearful cries. My eyes dart to the door where he’ll have to run the moment I’m in Dominic’s grasp.

As I straighten, Xavier’s hand slips around the back of my neck, tugging me closer with an intensity that makes the air around us crackle. All words dissolve on my lips as his eyes seize mine, the previous void gone, replaced by an all-encompassing, searing determination. It’s a sight that chills me to the core as he guides his only daughter into my grasp.

“I love you,” Xavier whispers, his voice quivering as if the weight of his words might crush him. “Take care of her.”

Xavier’s gaze sweeps to the abrupt edge of the deck, to the inescapably black depths of the Hudson, where unseen forces writhe and churn beneath the surface.