Page 2 of Light It Up Red
I need to get to Vancouver now. Travis was shot outside the arena. Don’t tell Dad I’m going.
Alessandro:
On it, sis.
I toss my phone down on the bed. The door to my room opens and I turn around to find my mother watching me.
“It wasn’t him, Lil. Your father would never do anything to hurt you,” she says.
“He’d do anything to make sure I never left this house. Let’s not pretend otherwise,” I counter.
“He wouldn’t do this,” she says more adamantly.
I want to believe her. It would break my heart if my family were the ones behind this. I want to believe that they would never do something so awful to me, but how can I be sure? I was raised to always question every situation. To never fully trust what anyone tells me. But what if the monster I was always supposed to be wary of… is the same one who gave me life?
I’m not stupid. I’ve heard the horror stories. I’ve seen how terrified people are of my father. You don’t become a Don of a crime family without being ruthless. I’ve never experienced that side of him, though. He was always just Dad to me.
The man who would dance with me for hours on end when I was little, the one who would let me follow him around, even when I knew he was busy. The man who stayed up all night with me, held me in his arms the first time I had my heart broken. He might have been promising to murder the boy who did it, but he was still there for me.
He’s always been there for me. My number one supporter. His love for me isn’t something I’ve ever questioned. After all, they say a parent’s love knows no bounds. But they say a lot of shit. And not all of it is true.
I told my parents that I was planning to move to Vancouver with Travis last week. And my father had a massive tantrum, forbidding me from leaving the estate. Like I knew he would. He claimed that he couldn’t cope with me being in a different house, let alone a different country.
So, I find it hard to believe he didn’t have anything to do with Travis being shot a few days later. It can’t be a coincidence. Us Valentinos don’t believe in coincidences.
Chapter One
Eight months earlier
Icannot believe I let my friends drag me to a sports event. One where I’m literally freezing my ass off at that. Who in their right mind wants to sit in an arena that’s set to the same temperature as my refrigerator and watch a bunch of guys skate around and hit something with a stick?
I could think of a lot better ways to spend my Friday night. But the thing about friendships is sometimes you have to take one for the team. My friend Harper is a physical therapist for the NY Strikers. The girl lives for hockey. Personally, I’ve never seen the appeal.
Did I mention it’s cold in here?
I’ve lived in New York my entire life. I’m used to the season changing, the harsh winters, but this is different. It’s a different kind of cold. As I sit here waiting for the players to come out and start doing whatever it is they do.
Harper is buzzing with excitement next to me. “Can you believe these seats? Aren’t they amazing?” she screams right into my ear.
“You know my family has a box, right? We could be sitting up there, with the warmth,” I tell her while eyeing the expanse of glass windows that overlook the rink.
“But that’s not the same experience as being right here. Wait till the game starts. You’ll see.” She jumps up and down in her seat.
“You do realize that if my cousins are in attendance tonight and they see me down here, they’re going to be dragging both of us up to that box.”
“Is it dragging if I go willingly?” Harper grins. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to Enzo dragging me off pretty much anywhere.”
“Ew, gross. And that’s not happening. Trust me when I say you do not want one of my alpha, I am man cousins chasing you down.”
“What about your brother? He’s younger but I could make it work.” She laughs.
“Not happening.” I shudder at the thought of one of my best friends and Alessandro hooking up.
Just. No.
The announcer starts talking about the teams, and then everyone is suddenly on their feet. Harper yanks at my arm to get me up. I look at her like she’s grown two heads. She’s jumping around, screaming, and yelling out some nonsense about the Strikers.
I watch as a bunch of players come out onto the ice. They skate across the rink, shooting pucks in every direction. “What are they doing?” I ask her.
