“How serious are we talking about?” He turns away from the guests, his gaze settling on our figures in the tall glass doors, the night beyond too black to show anything but our own reflections.
I spin around and stare at his reflection. “Serious.”
“I see.” His gaze never wavers from mine. “And does she know about your…condition?”
“In a sense.”
“In a sense?” he parrots. “I’m going to need more than that, son.”
“All you need to know is that I have it under control.”
Even though my father’s penetrating gaze is directed at my reflection, I can still feel the weight of his scrutiny. I know what he’s really asking. He wants to know if Izzie is safe with me. If I won’t wake up one morning to find her dead body lying by my side, and my hands covered in her blood. The monster inme would love nothing more than for that to materialize, but I’ll never allow it to have its way with Izzie.
So far, I’ve been able to satisfy his bloodlust by breaking bones and spirits in the ring. And at night, when I close my eyes and hold Izzie in my arms, he comes to me in the form of nightmares to feast on my soul. It’s a small bargain to keep Izzie safe.
“Very well. I won’t probe on the matter further,” he finally relents. “However, if this woman is to be part of your life, she must still be vetted. Have you done a background check?”
“Already handled. Enzo did a deep dive on her. Besides, you did one on her too before you letNonnohire her, or has that slipped your mind?”
“That was before she started dating my son.” He presses his lips together. “I prefer to be on the side of caution.”
“She’s clean,” I lie without flinching.
“So, you keep saying. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get someone else to double-check, now would it?”
Instead of answering, I meet his stare head-on this time. “Is this going to be a problem, Father?”
The arctic chill in my voice earns me the faintest flicker of surprise in his eyes. I’ve never spoken to my father in such a harsh, insubordinate tone. However, as I brace for him to put me in my place, I’m taken aback by how his lips begin to curve upwards.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, as my frown deepens.
“What? Why are you smiling all of a sudden? I don’t understand.”
“For Izzie’s sake, I hope that’s not true.” His hand gently settles on my shoulder. “Or is your sweet mother right? Are you still blind to your feelings for this woman?”
“No.” My jaw tightens. “I’m not.”
His smile softens. “Have you told her? Women usually like to know when a man has fallen in love with them.” I shake my head, my nerves starting to prickle at the base of my spine. “Ah.” His smile dips. “Though it saddens me to say, perhaps that’s wise. This life… it isn’t for everyone. Make sure she’s ready to stand at your side before burdening her with your love.” His gaze drifts across the room, landing on my mother with something almost wistful. “I got lucky. But not every relationship survives what the Outfit demands of it.” Then his eyes cut back to me. “Does she know what your future will look like?”
“We haven’t discussed it yet.”
Not a lie. We’ve avoided every conversation about the world outside of us, and for good reason. Explaining that to my father, though, would be the same as asking him to put a bullet in Izzie’s head. And like hell, I’ll ever let that happen.
“Then maybe you should,” he says at last. “If you trust her as much as you claim, put the cards on the table. Let her decide.”
I nod, though that thought terrifies me more than admitting to my father that my girlfriend is the same FBI agent he once ordered me to kill.
“What… what if she doesn’t choose me?” The words slip out before I can stop them, my real fear finally breaking through. “What if it’s all too much? What ifI’mtoo much?”
“Then she doesn’t deserve you,” he says, his stone-cold reply edged with a dangerous, protective glint in his eyes. For one fleeting moment, I almost let myself believe he cares. That he loves me, the way a father is supposed to love a son. “Come,” he announces after regaining composure. “Let me get better acquainted with your Isobel.” But just as we’re about to head back, my father places a hand on my chest and stops me mid-step. “Just one more thing,” he interjects, planting a fake smile for the guests looking our way. “Have you dealt with that littlepesky problem of ours? I’m referring to the undercover special agent sent to take you in?”
My blood immediately runs cold. Fuck.
“Yes,” I breathe out, the lie like poison on the tip of my tongue.
“Permanently?” he insists. My jaw clenches as I offer him a nod in return. “Good. Good.” He smiles. “Then let’s save your girlfriend before your mother starts talking wedding dates.”
That’s all the encouragement I need to quicken my steps. Not only do I want to run away from this topic of discussion, but I also want to be near Izzie. She has enough to deal with being tied to me, so the last thing she needs is my mother piling on talk of marriage and babies. Though the thought isn’t as repulsive as I once imagined. The image of Izzie walking toward me in a white gown down the aisle slips into my mind and, before I know it, I’ve got myself a new private obsession. And the vision of her carrying my child… fuck. That’s a dream I don’t even let myself entertain.