Page 58 of Salvatore

I fight a smile as she continues driving, appreciating her attempt to lighten my outburst. She’s so incredibly good to me like that. Not only the best friend, but the best human.

“Has he hurt you?” I ask.

“No.”

“Has he ever threatened, intimidated, or harassed you?”

There’s a pause. One that lasts more than a few heartbeats.

“Liv?” I return my gaze to her as she sits a little straighter, her mouth parting on silent words before she smacks her lips shut. “Liv?”

She shrugs. “At one point, he did all three?—

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“—But for good reason.” She pins me with a harsh stare. “We have a complicated history. And I’ve wanted to tell you everything for such a long time, but the truth isn’t easy.”

I can understand the truth being hard part. What I don’t like is how she’s a total catch who seems to have scored a relationship out of a dumpster fire.

“How do you even know who he is?” she asks. “I’ve scoured the internet and there’s nothing online that connects him with…” She clears her throat. “Um, underhanded things.”

I clench my fingers in my lap as the complications of our situation gain more steam in my head.

Yes, I’d already known the situation was messed up. Severely. Liv will look at me differently when I tell her about my past. She’ll see me as someone other than the fun, flirty friend I’ve curated myself to be. But what the mind-fuck of the last twenty-four hours didn’t allow me time to consider is how my temperamental family situation won’t allow for me to have associations with someone who has ties to the mafia.

Which means my biggest issue isn’t whether or not Olivia will judge me for my past. The terrifying reality is—does our friendship even have a future?

“My story is complicated, too.” I stare at my hands, my palms sweating. “It’s the reason I’ve never really spoken much about my?—”

An incoming call trills through the car’s speakers, cutting off the radio asRemyalights on the display screen.

“Sorry.” Liv winces. “I should take this.” She presses a button on the steering wheel, buying me some time to think as the call connects.

“Ollie?” Remy’s apprehensive tone carries through the vehicle. “Where are you?”

The car slows as she shoots me a concerned look. “We’re a few blocks from Ivy’s apartment building. Why?”

“Pull over.Now. I’m on the way to get you. Just stay where you are.”

“Why?” she repeats. “What’s going on?”

“It isn’t safe. Salvo just clued me in on the situation with Ivy and?—”

I lunge forward, jamming my finger against the disconnect button on the display screen, my heart in my throat as the call goes quiet, then the soft murmur of a Korean pop song fills the silence.

“Ivy?” My name is a fragile plea while Liv pulls to the curb.

I don’t know where to start. My ancestry? My childhood? The emancipation?

I swallow against the painful ache at the back of my throat. I’m going to have to make her choose, right? Is that my only option? “Liv, I?—”

Another call comes through, Remy’s name crossing the display screen again.

Jesus Christ.

“Please don’t answer,” I beg. “I just need a minute.”

There’s a beat of silence before her quiet “okay.”

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