Page 5 of Cara

My father glowers inches away from my face.

I give him nothing, a well-programmed machine.

This is who he’s made me. I don’t know why he’d ever think I’d beg.

“If you think this time is anything like the others, you aregravelymistaken.” His voice lowers to a menacing depth. “If you think I’ll give you my seat after all this shit you’ve pulled, I’ll tell you you’re fucking dreaming. I brought you here to punish you, make you understand what you lost.”

It’s near impossible to repress the hatred I could spew.

He’s always underestimated me.

He doesn’t think I know why none of our men are here to witness my fall from grace. From the moment I could make out his words, he assured me I was his future. His pawn against the hordes who wish him dead. Vito’s man is here to dirty his hands because my father knows better than to let the men who will follow him see me in the dirt.

He’s retained his position this long because he has an arsenal behind him. A band of fucked up men too afraid or too envious of him to look in other directions.

With a single word, he was able to gain access to Vito’s men. With a single word, he secured this space to reform his kin back into the monster he made.

He doesn’t realize, as he speaks to me, that he already revealed himself long ago. He will put me at the top by any means necessary. That’s the way he wins. That’s his legacy.

He thinks dangling the position in front of me like a prize will bring me back to reality.

In some ways, he’s already the victor here.

Because Iwillseize my opportunity.

I no longer dream of freedom. Or children. Or my wife. Too much has happened even to imagine a life so gratifying. The moment they laid their hands on her, I knew I couldn’t go back. I knew if I wasn’t originally made for this life, it had now sunk its claws into me.

He won’t get away with this.

Neither of them will. Vito will pay as well.

Arturo nods to Dario, standing with a disappointed sigh. My eyes fix on a crack in the floor, preparing for the bluntness of the steel.

Suppress it.

Accept the pain.

It’s nothing compared to hers.

Sophie/Cara

The Plaza Diego de León lies in total darkness.

The kind that causes the mind to overthink, makes your steps become strides. The only disturbance to the stillness is a neon marquee flickering above a slanted awning, pulsing light across the gray stone.

That light—my frantic heartbeat syncs to it.

Xavier would’ve told me to get behind a locked door as soon as possible. His hawk-eyed vision would’ve penetrated the lurking shadows of the streets before I even took a step out of the taxi, tripping over myself to find shelter.

A year ago, I would have seen beauty in the architecture, strolled the dimly lit sidewalks with ease. I would have fallen gratefully to my knees to be a world away from everything I know, free of my father. My mother.

Free from Xavier Marcello.

Turns out, a lot can change in a year.

Because I’m running—no,sprinting—over these cobblestone roads on legs that no longer recognize exercise, on knees that crack every time my shoe hits the pavement.

The world is darker than before. An unending nightmare.There are no tears of joy. No sighs of relief. I am utterly alone, utterly lost, and goddamn terrified.