Page 6

CHAPTER SIX

I walked down the stairs, my fingers intertwined with Vince’s, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. We crossed the entrance, and the familiar scent of my father’s cologne hit me before we even reached the door.

A wave of nostalgia washed over me, and I suddenly remembered the hours I’d spent in his office growing up, studying, reading, or just on my phone while he was working at his desk.

You wouldn’t believe how much paperwork running a criminal organization involved—even though, what did I know? Dad never actually involved us girls in the actual day-to-day business. Would Vince be the same? Would he—out of his protectiveness—keep me away from the business? Or would he stay true to his word and involve me—like a real team?

As we stepped into the room, I caught sight of Dad’s face—a storm of emotions playing across his features.

“Jemma!” he roared, pushed Hawk aside, and rushed toward me .

I tried to untangle my hand from Vince’s, though he didn’t let go. I gave him a sideways glance. His jaw was clenched as if he braced himself for impact.

Dad’s eyes scanned me from head to toe, searching for any sign of harm. “Are you hurt? What happened? Why didn’t you call me?” The questions tumbled out in rapid succession, his voice tight with worry. Then he looked at our joined hands and cast a glance at Vince, his eyes sparkling with barely contained anger.

A lump formed in my throat as I realized how much I’d put him through, how much my dad really loved me.

All the resentment I’d had because of the arranged marriage suddenly disappeared. All my dad ever wanted was for us girls to be happy. “I’m okay, Dad,” I said, my voice wavering slightly. “Really, I’m fine.”

He pulled me into a fierce hug, and I melted into his embrace. For a moment, I was a little girl again, safe in my father’s arms. The familiar scent of his aftershave filled my nostrils, and tears suddenly gatheredat the corners of my eyes.

“You scared me half to death,” he murmured, his voice gruff with emotion. “When I heard about the attack…”

I pulled back slightly and met his concerned gaze. “I’m sorry, Dad. Everything happened so fast, and?—”

“It’s my fault,” Vince interjected, stepping forward, putting his arm around my waist, and pulling me back against him. “I should have contacted you immediately.”

My father’s eyes narrowed as his attention shifted to Vince. I could feel the tension crackling in the air between them, and I held my breath, unsure of what would happen next .

The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with tension.

Dad’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he turned and faced Vince fully, anger practically radiating off him in waves. “Do not touch her.”

Vince, for his part, remained unnervingly still. His posture wasn’t defensive; if anything, he looked…accepting of whatever was coming his way. But he didn’t let go.

It hit me then—he was prepared to take whatever my father dished out.

“Since Jemma is an adult,” Vince said calmly, “she’s the only one allowed to tell me not to touch her.”

The expression on Dad’s face turned from dark to thunderous. “You think so? You scum, you put her in danger, and now, you dare to touch her?”

I stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Vince, instead, pushed me behind him.

Then I felt hands on my arms. Fee and Alex pulled me back gently but firmly.

“They need to have this out,” Alex murmured in my ear.

I wanted to protest, but deep down, I knew he was right. This was inevitable. Not that I liked it, but my dad and Vince had to come to an understanding.

What a mess.

And then everything seemed to move too fast and in slow motion at the same time as Dad pulled back his arm and his fist unexpectedly connected with Vince’s jaw.

Vince’s head flew to the side, and the sound of the impact made me flinch .

I cried out. “Stop.” I moved to rush between them, to stop this madness, but Alex wrapped his arm around my waist and held me back.

I closed my eyes. On some level, I understood that this confrontation was inevitable. But then again, this was my dad and Vince.

I opened my eyes again.

Vince’s brothers closed in, as did Dom—Vince’s friend—who must’ve come with Matt. A bunch of Salvini men advanced, as well, but Vince shook his head, and they all stepped back again.

Dad’s fury was unleashed now. His fists flew, connecting with Vince’s face and body in a flurry of blows. And Vince…Vince grunted with every hit but remained standing, taking hit after hit without so much as raising a hand to defend himself.

What the hell? Why wouldn’t he at least defend himself?

I watched, my emotions a tangled mess. Concern for Vince warred with a grudging respect for his stoicism. He was thirty years younger, and even though my dad was a giant, as well, he could have easily overpowered him.

But chose not to.

He was letting Dad work through his anger, accepting the punishment as if he believed he deserved it. This man, whom I’d thought was a bully and would never let anyone overpower him, was showing a depth of character and emotional intelligence I hadn’t expected. But also, ouch.

He was taking a beating for me, for us, to give my father the outlet he needed and clear the air .

I’d never expected it, and despite knowing this was probably the fastest way to clear the air, seeing him being beaten to a pulp was hurting far more than I’d thought possible.

And then blood seeped through the sleeve of Vince’s shirt right where Hawk had just stitched him up.

I stiffened, and the sight of his blood made my stomach churn.

This was my fault, in a way. None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten involved with the hacking. Vince wouldn’t even know my name, and he’d never have demanded this asinine arrangement…and this situation would’ve never happened.

“Stop, right this second.”

I pulled Alex’s hand off my waist and jumped right between my dad and Vince.

My dad’s fist came toward me almost in slow-mo until Vince grabbed his wrist in midair and stopped him just inches before he hit me in the face.

“That’s enough,” Vince said, his voice firm.

It was the first thing he’d said since Dad had started to pound into him.

“Dad, please. This isn’t helping anyone,” I said, my voice trembling.

My father’s chest heaved as he stared at me, his wrist still clenched in Vince’s grip. “Move aside,” he growled.

But I shook my head. “No. I won’t let you hurt him anymore.” I turned to look at Vince, wincing at the sight of his bloodied face and the growing red stain on his sleeve. “He’s already injured.” I turned back to my dad. “And he’s not even defending himself, Dad. This isn’t right.”

Dad pulled his hand back with a growl and let it fall.

Vince’s eyes met mine, a mix of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite decipher swirling in their depths. He reached out and gently cupped my cheek. “It’s okay, Punk. Your father has every right?—”

“No, he doesn’t,” I cut him off, surprising myself with the vehemence in my voice. I glared at my dad whose jaw was clenched, and his eyes remained hard.

“At least, Gabe had the decency to lose consciousness and fall into a coma. This guy’s still standing,” Dad grumbled, clearly frustrated.

I rolled my eyes at him. “This is stupid.”

My father’s gaze sharpened.

I grabbed both his and Vince’s hand, then turned to Vince. “Violence isn’t the answer here. We need to talk this out like adults.”

I turned back to my father and saw the conflict in his eyes. “Dad, please. Let’s sit down and discuss this calmly. There’s so much you don’t know, so much I need to explain.”

For a moment, I thought he might refuse. But then his shoulders sagged, and he nodded slowly. “Fine,” he said, his voice gruff. “But this is far from over, Salvini.”

As the tension in the room slowly dissipated, I exhaled and gradually relaxed.

I looked around. I was so focused on my dad that I didn’t even look around when we entered. But everyone in the room was watching us—Fee, Alex, Vince’s brothers, Hawk, and his guys, and to my utter surprise, Iset and a woman who was her spitting image—all wearing expressions ranging from concern to curiosity.

“Can we have some privacy?” I asked, my voice softer now. “Just Dad, Vince, and me?”

There were nods of agreement, and slowly, the others filed out of the room.

As the door closed behind them, I turned to face the two men in my life who meant the most to me, albeit in very different ways.

“Let’s sit,” I said, gesturing to the nearby sofas. “We have a lot to talk about. And I’m the only one allowed to use violence.”