Page 18

EIGHTEEN

KEIRA

YES MOM - Tessa Violet

I refuse to let her presence get to me. She’s nothing. No one. Yet, an annoying little bee buzzes around my head, trying to tell me otherwise. That was until Harkin made it extremely fucking clear I was his. She wasn’t too happy about it. But I was brimming with pompous energy now, and it was bleeding into my first words to Domenico.

He studies me. Not with the eyes of a father seeing his daughter for the first time in months, worried about her wellbeing. No, this man is gauging my ability to handle this interaction. Well, two can play that game. You didn’t survive living on the streets, bouncing from one unstable and unsafe situation to another without learning how to read the slightest tell someone’s trying not to give off.

I don’t follow up on my request; instead, I let it lie between us. Alina’s look of disinterest while studying her cuticles tells me she’s nothing more than a true pawn for Domenico to move about his little chessboard. I should feel bad for her, but there wasn’t an inch in my heart that gave a damn.

“I commend your directness, Keira. Why don’t we get down to it.”

I motion for him to continue, waiting to see if he’ll play his cards or create another maze of nonsense for us to dig through.

“I want you to join the family.”

“Pass. I’m not interested in having anything to do with you or what you seem to think is a family endeavor. You made sure of that the first and last time we met.”

“I think we got started on the wrong foot. I can see that now.”

“You think? Kidnapping doesn’t really instill much trust in a budding father-daughter relationship.”

“Understandable, but hear me out. I think you’ll want to stick around this time.”

“Really, and why’s that?”

Domenico reaches into his jacket pocket. Harkin tenses next to me, his trigger finger sliding into place and asserting the slightest bit of pressure. He doesn’t relax when Domenico pulls out a small piece of paper. But then he flips it right side up, pushing it across the glass table with stiff fingers.

It’s an old photo, crinkled and torn at the edges, with a yellow tint. When my fingers snag it from the table and bring it into view, I lose the oxygen filling my lungs. She’s beautiful, and her vintage ensemble is something I’ve only seen in movies. That’s not the piece that shocks me. We’re almost identical, and it’s as if my twin status has been bumped to one of three.

“Who—who is this?” I stumble out.

“Your namesake.”

“Wait. On Mom’s side?”

“Keira isn’t exactly an Italian name.”

I do my best not to lose my shit at his condescending tone. “Okay, but who is she? Our grandmother?”

“Close, your great-grandmother.”

I take in the small details of the photo. How our noses slant at the same angle or the way our foreheads share the same deep crease. “Thanks for the family ancestry lesson, but I don’t see how you think this will sway me into the fold.”

“Keira Fitzpatrick has a nice ring to it. But Donahue is your mother’s real surname. Though you technically should be a Morelli.”

“I, technically, don’t give a shit. And to be quite honest with you, I’m glad Mom picked something all her own. It breaks my connection to both of you.”

“See, I told you she wouldn’t care. Selfish as ever,” Alina adds for the first time since she walked into the room.

My body lurches forward, hands slapping against the glass table. The noise grabs her attention, and her eyes widen. “Don’t fucking act like you know me, princess. But I sure as hell know you, and if you want to point fingers at who’d be the selfish one, it sure as shit isn’t me.”

Harkin’s warm hand wraps around the front of my bare thigh, squeezing to draw me back to center. The point of this meeting is losing traction. Was there once a time when I wanted nothing more than to be the little girl with a big, happy family? Sure. But that little girl is long gone. I’d rather never hear a word from these people again than have to jump through hoops to earn the affection of a stranger. Shit, at this point, I’d rather go back to my boring life of stalking Harkin online and working at the airline.

I settle back on the chair as my point strikes home. She knows, I know, exactly how she used to be with Harkin. Not to mention everything I learned from watching her life through the scope of the lens she aimed at herself.

“What about my father?” Harkin sidesteps the current sisterly vendetta.

“Your father owes me a lot of money, Mr. Greyson. Most men in his predicament aren’t offered options.”

“So, he’s still alive?” I throw it out because I’m nosey, and I’m sure Harkin wants to know, but won’t ask.

“For now, but it won’t be that way much longer.”

“If it’s your missing money you want, I can get it for you. Just hand over the account you want it wired to. We can handle this right here and now. No need to drag it out.”

“That won’t be necessary. Plus, that brings me to my proposition for you both. Grant me a single favor, and I’ll release the elder Greyson with no more harm done to him.”

“A favor?” I ask, a tone of incredulous amusement leaking through. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“It won’t even require you to dirty your hands, and who knows, you may even enjoy it,” Domenico adds, dancing around the exact offer.

My eyes drift quickly to Harkin’s relaxed form in the chair. It doesn’t match the energy billowing off him. He’s anxious to hear what’s on the table. I don’t put anything past Domenico with the hand he holds over us. But I know Harkin’s limits are a lot more cut and dry than mine have always been.

“Out with it. We don’t have all day,” I snark, irritated and ready to leave.

“Join me for a meeting with your grandfather. He’s eager to meet his granddaughters.”

My mouth runs dry like thick cotton trapped on the roof of my mouth after a night of drinking one too many. Ironically, I’d do about anything for a swig of something neat right now.

“My grandfather,” I repeat like a mockingbird balanced on an overhanging tree limb. “He knows about us?” It’s like I’m reliving the realization that my father knew where I was for over a year, yet did nothing to join my life sanely.

“I’ve approached him with the unexpected news, and he would like to meet you both as soon as possible if you agree.”

Three sets of eyes burn against my exposed skin. The expectation to decide at the drop of a hat holds me hostage, which doesn’t bode well for any of us.

Clearing my throat, I stand and drop the photo back on the table. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”

Dom’s fury gets the best of his otherwise collected demeanor as he shoots to his feet, closing the space separating us. I feel Harkin do the same, ready to intervene should the moment call for it.

“Listen here.” He leans closer, his hot breath fanning across my cheeks. “You have the power to make sure your little dog here doesn’t have to run to Mommy and tell her the news about her husband. I’m not a generous man, Keira. Take it or leave it. But if you walk out that door, that man’s blood is on your hands, mio cuore. And maybe we aren’t so different after all.”

Harkin doesn’t cut in. He doesn’t try to fight the battle of wills before me. Instead, his strong presence gives me the strength to throw out an answer I might later regret. “Set the meeting,” I spit out and shove past Domenico, even though the opposite direction is free.

His man on the door doesn’t move from his post. The silk of my dress pushes away as I slip my fingers along the hilt of my knife. His eyes dance from my short frame to his boss behind me. He moves to the side just in time to avoid a deep gut wound.

I follow the thin lights in the darkness to the hidden door and pop out back into the busy bar. Eyes swing in our direction as we enter from seemingly nowhere. My favorite blonde beauty is talking up a man in an expensive suit while her captor watches on from three tables down. They both stand abruptly when they see us and join in our exodus.

Quietness falls around us as we enter the elevator and descend four stories to the lobby. A restless energy radiates off Stacey. She wants to dive into what happened to us behind closed doors, but she’s holding it in. I’m sure James whispering in her ear is helping if her eyes are any indicator.

We wait for the valet to bring the SUV around before we load in. There’s a collective sigh of relief as we pull away from the hotel. James and Harkin keep their eyes peeled for the potential of a tail, but I let my head dip against the seat back and close my eyes. Why couldn’t my family be average? A couple hard working, nine to fivers. No, instead, I get the bottom of the barrel. A family legacy that leaves much to be desired, even from someone who’s done her share of shady shit throughout the years. But I can’t deny the nagging curiosity to meet this person who might offer another connection to the only family I ever knew.

Whispers draw me out of my head. Since Nikita found us, the guys have been antsy about our location, so they decided to move again. I’m starting to feel like I’m back to being a teen, couch-hopping every few days for a roof over my head. I miss the stability of my apartment and the safety it offered. But those days seem to be long gone.

“Where’d you settle on?” I ask no one in particular.

“Home.”

“What?” I sit forward, peeking between the two front seats.

“There’s no point in hiding anymore. Domenico thinks he’s gotten exactly what he wants.”

“Hasn’t he?”

“Oh, sweetness, if there’s one thing that meeting did, it was give us the upper hand. He wants a meeting. We know the who, and thanks to Nikita’s dossier, I might know the where.”

“We’re going to cut him off at the knees?”

“Domenico is never going to be an ally in our corner. But your grandfather, you both have something in common.”

“Mom,” I say in the softest whisper.

Stacey’s warm hand runs up and down my back, and the comforting touch is much appreciated.

“Exactly, I can’t imagine, even after all these years, his feelings toward the Morelli family have grown warmer,” Harkin confirms my suspicions.

“The feud was there long before your parents were ever born. Since they immigrated to New York from their home countries, the families have been at war. The city’s only so big, and everyone wanted a piece of the pie. The animosity only heightened when a beloved daughter was gunned down by the mafia don himself,” James adds to the conversation, like a historian finally able to share their knowledge.

“Digging his own grave, but for what?” I ask.

“That’s the only thing still up in the air. Let’s finish this upstairs.”

The parking garage for Harkin’s apartment comes into view. It’s surreal coming back to this place after all these months—the four of us a unit of sorts.

The three people in this car are the only people in the world who know everything and don’t run for safety. During the absolute chaos my life's become, where the fantasy I’d built in my head collided head-on with a morbid reality, I found my own family. We’re bound by loyal friendship, secrets, and a moral compass that doesn’t always point north. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.