Page 1 of Alive and Kicking
Viviana
Istand there staring at my father as he takes his weapons from his person, setting them on the table by the door in the hall. He doesn’t say anything, but I know he can feel my eyes on him and the unanswered questions hanging in the air. Most of all, I just want to know why. Why Luca? I probably would have just shrugged and gone along with it if he had named any other man. Why would he pick such a horrible man to force me into marriage with? His recently deceased underboss had committed many assaults, there wasn’t any proof but the rumors made him infamous so there’s no way my dad didn’t know.
“Who was at the door?” Nox calls from the kitchen.
I bite my lip, not knowing how to answer that. My dad looks over at me with a quirked brow but doesn’t say anything about Nox shouting from the other room.
I watch as he toes his dress shoes off before approaching me. But I look away as he gets closer, not wanting to look into his eyes anymore. When Enzo told me that he had up and decided to go on a trip, this had never even crossed my mind as a possibility. “Hey, Bambolotta?1. I’ve missed you.”
There are so many things I should be doing right now. I should yell for the guys, scream at him for everything that hashappened and the emotional whiplash I went through when I ran from my home in the middle of the night. I should demand answers from him. Maybe yell at him for continuing to call me a little doll, even though he knows I hate that nickname. What I end up doing is running right into his arms. He chuckles warmly like nothing has changed. “I’m so mad at you right now,” I finally manage, holding him tightly.
My father is taller than my five-foot-three-and-a-half inches at just over five-foot-eight so my head lays comfortably against his shoulder, just like it has since I stopped growing in seventh grade. Hugging this asshole shouldn’t feel as comforting as it does. Then again, hugging my father has always made me feel safe, even when I became aware of what his business dealings entailed.
A noise alerts me that we’re no longer alone, metal grinding against metal. The cocking of a gun is such a distinctive sound that it would be impossible to mistake. The hair at the nape of my neck rises and I spin around with my arms open as I stand between my father and Cain, who has a gun pointed in our direction. My jaw clenches and I shake my head at him. But Cain doesn’t lower his weapon, he raises his brow, gesturing for me to move with a jerk of his chin. “Move, princess.”
My eyes narrow and I don’t move a muscle. “He’s my dad.”
Cain looks at me like I’m stupid, his arm steady as he continues to aim his gun at my father. “You think I don’t recognize Donatello Rossi?”
“You’re not shooting my dad!” I snap.
Strong, familiar hands land on my shoulders. “Don’t worry, Bambolotta?2. He’s not going to shoot me.”
Cain scoffs, “You think so?”
I can imagine the patronizing look my father gives him in response to that, even if I can’t see it. “She would never forgiveyou, so you’re not going to shoot. Put the gun down, piccolo poliziotto?3.”
I groan at the instant reaction Cain has to that nickname. “Seriously Dad? You're supposed to be making himnotwant to shoot you. If you push him, I won’t feel bad for you if you lose a kneecap.”
A laugh leaves him at that. “You spend too much time with Enzo.”
I just shrug my shoulders, because that’s his fault for putting Enzo in charge of my security. Shaking his hands off my shoulders, I approach Cain. Now that I know he’s not going to shoot my dad at this current moment, I can reason with him. “Put the gun away. You’re not allowed to use it in the house anyway.”
Cain rolls his eyes, letting the gun fall to his side. “What are you even talking about?”
“Nox said no shooting in the house. You can stab him if you have to, just make sure it’s not anywhere fatal.”
A choked sound leaves my dad. I glare at him over my shoulder, and his head falls as he drops his eyes to the ground. At least he recognizes that he deserves to be stabbed. Cain carefully maneuvers his way between me and my father. “If you try to make her leave with you, I will shoot you. I don’t care if she hates me forever. Her safety is more important than her feelings.”
My glare turns on Cain at that. “You do realize Iwillstab you again, right?”
“What’s going on?” Nox asks carefully from the doorway into the kitchen, a dish towel hanging from one hand.
He looks between Cain, with the gun still in his hand, and my father. “This is my Dad,” I tell him softly.
Nox just blinks for a moment before nodding slowly. “I thought that might be the case. Why don’t we all sit down in the kitchen to talk? I’ll text the others to come down.”
I nod, following him into the kitchen. Cain follows behind me, staying between my dad and I as I walk in and pull myself up onto the edge of the island. We sit there silently for what feels like a long time before the thunderous sound of Sloane’s feet on the rickety stairs reaches us. He and Zane round the corner together, but they have completely different expressions on their faces. Sloane looks like he’s ready for war to break out, while Zane has a big smile.
Zane is the first one to make it to us, and I just know he’s about to say something psychologically divergent when he opens his mouth with his hand stretched out to my father. “I’m Viv’s fiancé, Zane. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
My dad’s brows raise to his hairline. “Fiancé.” He says the word slowly, like it will change definition just from him stretching it out.
“Seriously Z? You can’t just decide shit like that on your own,” Sloane snaps at him.
When my dad’s eyes turn to me, I just shrug. I’m still too pissed about the whole Luca thing to be guilted into giving him any reassurances. He promised my hand to a rapist, so he doesn’t get to be hurt that I could have gone off and gotten engaged.
Zane rolls his eyes at Sloane like he’s the one not making sense. “Look, I don’t care if you like her too. I’m going to marry her. I asked first and she said we could elope in Vegas.”
