My father glares at him from where he’s sprawled on the ground panting. His nose gushes blood.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Papà snarls, red spittle flying from his mouth. “This is none of your business.”
Ras’s response is a vicious kick to my father’s gut.
Papà groans, spits out blood. “You’ll pay for this,” he wheezes.
Ras steps on his hand, and a moment later, there’s a crunching sound, and Papà’s face goes white.
“Ras! Stop,” I beg. “Don’t do this.”
“You’re a dead man,” Papà hisses through the pain. “You hear me? A dead man.”
I dig my fingers into Ras’s forearm. “That’s enough. Please.”
Papà hits the floor with his fist. “Get out. Get out so that I can hunt you down.”
Ras lowers on his haunches and grabs Papà’s shirt, bringing his face close. “I’m taking Gemma to the hospital. You better not be here when we come back. I don’t give a fuck that this is your house. I don’t give a fuck that she’s your daughter. No one touches her. You hear me? No one. If I’m a dead man, I’m dragging you down to the depths of hell with me.”
There’s a loud gasp. “Gem!”
I whip my head around to see Cleo standing in the doorway, her hand covering her mouth.
Shit.
She flicks her gaze over the scene, and I can see the realization of what happened slowly dawn on her. Her eyes turn red and watery, and she rushes to my side. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
My body is in so much pain, but I can still feel my heart break. The secret is out. I’ve spent so long trying to shield Cleo from this.
Ras prowls over to us. “I’m taking you to get checked out.”
I hesitate. My mind is sluggish, but even in this state, I know Ras is in trouble.
He just beat the shit out of a don.
Papà will send his men after him.
They can’t kill Ras. I can’t let that happen. Maybe if I stay behind, I can talk Papà down. “Ras—”
“We’re going,” he says resolutely. His eyes lock on mine, and something inside of them makes my protest die out.
I swallow. Nod. “Cleo, go up to your room, lock the door, and wait until Mamma comes home.”
My sister’s crying now, tears running down her face. “Papà did this?”
“Please, Cleo. Just do as I say. Go to your room.”
When she doesn’t move, Ras takes her arm and lifts her off the floor. “Go, Cleo.”
She blinks at me, her lips trembling, and she then turns to him. “Please take care of her.”
“I will,” Ras says.
“Don’t you dare leave,” Papà growls at me as Cleo runs out of the room. “You leave with him, and I swear, Gemma, you’ll regret it.”
Tears spring to my eyes. How could he do this? My own father?
Ras wraps his arm around my trembling shoulders. “Don’t listen to him. They’re nothing more than the words of a desperate man who’s aware his days at the top are numbered.”
Papà’s face blanches.
And with one final look at my cruel, broken father, I let Ras whisk me outside.
CHAPTER 26
RAS
Snowflakes slap against my face as Gemma and I walk out the front door.
I shrug my jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders. She’s trembling, her skin white with shock except for the blooming pink mark on one side of her face.
He hit her there. He raised his hand and struck her.
My vision bleeds red. It takes everything for me to keep moving my feet forward instead of turning back around to finish what I started.
No matter how much I want to decimate Garzolo, my priority is Gemma.
I open the car door and help her inside, careful not to touch the side she’s clutching. She’s taking short, shallow breaths. The vein in her neck pounds fast and hard.
I lean over and clip in her seat belt. “You’re okay. I’ll make sure the doctor sees you right away.”
She nods, her hands finding mine.
“Show me where you’re hurt,” I ask, pulling a handkerchief from my pocket and pressing it against her bleeding bottom lip. When I pull it away, she seems surprised to see the fabric is stained red.
Garzolo split her lip.
I clench my jaw and swear to the heavens that Garzolo will pay.
“I don’t know,” she says brokenly. “My ribs, I think.”
“Okay, we’re going to figure it out.” I cup her cheek with my hand. “Gem, you’re safe now. I promise.”
Fear slips into her gaze. “Ras, you have to flee. Call Damiano. Papà—”
“Don’t worry about me.” She’s the one who’s hurt, and she’s thinking about me. The back of my throat prickles. Fuck. I can’t stand this.
I press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Give me your phone. We’re going to turn it off so that your father can’t track us while we get you taken care of.”
She slides it into my hand. “Where are we going?”
“To the closest hospital.”
“And afterwards?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. But you’re never going to be alone with your father again. Ever.”
She gives me a wary look, like she thinks that’s impossible, but she doesn’t argue.
I give her shoulder a squeeze, shut the door, and climb into the driver’s seat.
Yes, the next time I see Garzolo, I’m going to kill him. Rage burns beneath my flesh as I imagine all the ways I’d like to disfigure that motherfucker before he takes his last breath.
Watching him kick Gemma while she was curled up on the ground woke something primal inside of me. I heard the commotion from where I was waiting in the living room, and I immediately ran to the office, but I was seconds too late.
And in those seconds, he managed to knock her to the ground and land a few hits.
My hands strangle the wheel.
I should have never let her go into his office without me.
“Peaches, how are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm for her sake.
“My side hurts badly when I breathe in.” She prods her ribs, wincing as she does it. “I don’t think anything’s broken though.”
My teeth grind against each other. “How often has he done this to you?”
A long while passes before she answers. “Until recently, it was only every few months. Whenever he was in a bad mood and had no one else to take it out on. But after Vale ran, he started doing it more.”
“Fucking unbelievable,” I growl. How dare he? It’s bad enough that he’s been hitting her, but the fact that he’s been doing that while planning to use her to save his own hide makes it even more perverse. Does he even view her as a human being? Or is she just a fucking object? “And your sisters didn’t know?”
“I’ve always hidden it. In the past, he rarely hit me hard enough to leave a bruise, so it was easy.”
“But in Ibiza, he didn’t hold back. How did Cleo not see anything?”
Her fingertips lift to her cheek. “I wore an eye mask in bed to make sure she wouldn’t notice. She’s not big on details anyway.”