Forbidden Eyes: A Cane Novel 4

by Hart, Charlotte E

  “Who the fuck dared take her?” he asks.

  “Anchov.” He furrows his brow and presses his fingers to his temple, thinking over the potential repercussions.

  “How many did you kill?”

  Nine at the grounds to get her back, and three others at the deal. Pierre as well.”

  His eyes widen at his name, a long fucking sigh coming because of the problems that's gonna cause him. Still, he looks me over, as if checking for damage that isn’t there.

  “You alright?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And the deal’s straight again?” he asks, taking a drink. “At least tell me you've sorted whatever fucked that up.”

  I stare out the window, rubbing my jaw, then pace back over in front of him again. “Yeah. It'll run clean enough. There's a loss, but it's not on us.”

  He nods at me.

  “I'll call Anchov, smooth it over somehow and keep the information from Vico. We'll cover the loss if needs be.” He offers the bottle to me after he’s finished drinking. My eyes narrow at the offer, not sure what it means. Is it over? Done? “Thankfully I’ve got enough on Chelico to keep this quiet.”

  My hand reaches for the bottle, but he snatches it back.

  “He’ll fuck you up, Carter. Vico. You go after her and he’ll kill you. You hearing me through that skull of yours?”

  I nod, more than fucking aware of that fact. “Yeah, I know.”

  My hand reaches for the bottle again to help numb the pain he’s caused, a small smile trying to work out whether she’s worth this pain or not, let alone whether fucking her would be worth dying for. Untouched before me. Innocent, but fiery as hell. I could sicken myself with the thoughts I've had about her so far, all of them drenched in long sessions and her begging for a reprieve. Not that I'd grant it because I know, once I start that kind of crazy, there's no damned way I'll get enough of her.

  That kiss was proof enough.

  He eventually walks past me, grumbling to himself about something, and leaves me with nothing but a sore fucking jaw and no more words.

  “We okay?” I call after him.

  His feet stop walking in the corridor and I hear him open the door. There’s silence for a few seconds. The pause stretches and tells me everything I already know. I definitely need to leave for a while. It’ll do me good to clear my head of stupidity and get me back on track. Might keep breathing if I do that.

  “Keep packing. Get her to the plane tomorrow, say your goodbyes, and then come back again when you’re not a fucking idiot,” he says.

  The door slams. I nod.

  Fair enough.

  Fourteen

  The argument with Uncle Quinn still stings. Yes, I am mad at him, but he isn’t the source of my rage. That lies squarely with my father because as far as I can tell, he’s been playing the king of New York from other people’s misery since before I was born, and he’s done nothing to change his behaviour.

  Mom knows I’m coming home. I’ve ignored all of her calls and messages since I told her I’m on my way. At least she can’t bother me here. I’ve also ignored the handful of missed calls and messages from Andi who I haven’t spoken to since the night of her party—the catalyst that put all of this in motion.

  The flight should land in about an hour, and I’m still mentally running over my script of what I’m going to say. I’ve been piecing it together since Carter dropped me off. I argued that I managed to get to Chicago on my own and didn’t need anyone to take me to the airport, but I was glad of the company.

  His company.

  Tension still hugged the air between us. All of the words left unsaid and the what-ifs were still in my head, playing out and giving me a reprieve from what was going to happen next. At least I know it isn’t just one-sided. His body language isn’t easy to read. Nothing about the man is. But when he stood up to Uncle Quinn for me and said he wouldn't leave until I told him it was okay, that told me everything he refused to speak. No one does that unless they think you’re worth it.

  At least I hope I was worth it.

  “Look after yourself. Change the dressing. You’ll heal.” That's what he said when he passed my bag to me at departures. Look after myself. Nothing more. I stared at his face, my eyes travelling over his scar, and noticed the slight bruising on his jaw. By tomorrow that will be blotched with purple because he’s been hit. Because of me. Uncle Quinn, presumably. I nearly reached for him, nearly tried to wipe the bruise away somehow, and it nearly killed me to look at him and realise I may not see him again, but he was right. I have to think about what’s coming and nothing else, and because of that, I intend to look out for myself first.

  After trudging through the airport arrivals, I see Mom barely containing herself. I stare right at her, and suddenly the anger and resentment that have been building evaporate when I see the depth of worry in her eyes—worry that my disappearance has caused her.

  She barrels her way through the small crowd of people and wraps her arms around me. “Never do that again. God, Fia, whatever made you think…”

  “Mom, relax. I’m fine. I’m safe, and I am an adult.”

  “That will never stop me from worrying about you. May I remind you that you could have contacted us?” She pulls back to look at me, assessing me to see if I’ve been injured somehow.

  “What, and have Dad send someone to collect me? Or insist Uncle Quinn send me home? I’m not a child, as I keep telling everyone, yet that’s all I’m ever treated as.” Frustration creeps back under my skin as I go back over old ground. “Besides, that’s all in the past now.” She doesn’t know that my trip has changed me, changed the way I see our family.

  At least for now.

  The ride back home makes me feel even more like an errant child. Torino drives us, but I don’t miss the few glances he gives me in the rearview mirror. He’s been with my father forever. He must know everything that’s gone on in the business over the years, seen all of the bad things I now know must have happened, and not only imagined.

  “Is Dad home?” I ask.

  “He is. He’s coming back as he wants to speak to you when you get in.”

  Good. There’s no way I’ll be able to hold onto this anger if I can’t confront him. I’ll lose my confidence.

  “So, what did you do when you were visiting? Did you see Emily and Gabby?”

  “Yes. They looked after me.” My lie is more an omission as they technically did look out for me. Or rather Emily did.

  “And have you got this out of your system?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This running off. Have you got it out of your system?” Mom looks at me expectantly.

  I turn to face her and line up the words I need to explain things to her. “Mom, what if I said to you that I wanted to go and travel?”

  “What? What about your studies? I thought you couldn’t wait to go back to school? It’s all you’ve ever been interested in.”

  “No, it’s all there’s ever been to be interested in. There’s a difference.”

  “So, you’re telling me you’re just going to give up on your degree?”

  “No. I’m asking what you’d say if I wanted to travel?”

  “I don’t know why you’re asking these silly questions, Fia. You’ve been working so hard, and now you want to throw it away just because you feel, what, too protected by your family?” She crosses her arms over her chest as if I’ve caused her serious offence.

  “Mom, you need to understand that I’m not a little girl, and I’m going to do what I please from now on. Travelling is just an example, but I’m glad to know how you feel about me making my own decisions.”

  We’re silent for the remainder of the journey. I can tell Mom is thinking over all the words we’ve not spoken. She’s assessing everything, weighing up the situation. She’s always very good at reading what’s going on. I’m almost frightened to contemplate her involvement in the Vico world over the years because somehow that feels like a worse crime.

>   We turn into the drive, and as soon as the car is parked, I’m out the door and carrying my bag inside the house.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” My father’s voice echoes in the dull light of the front room. It’s like he’s been waiting to ambush me.

  “To my room. I thought that’s where you’d want me after my little trip.”

  “Sofia, stand still. I’m way past sending you to your room. If I had my way, you’d never leave this fucking house again without an armed escort.”

  “Funny, I thought that’s what my life had been up until this point?” I stare at him, waiting for his response, no longer afraid of what he might do to me. After all, any of the respect he’s ever earned vanished the moment I learned just what his involvement was in that drug deal. I’ve survived a fucking kidnapping for God’s sake. The kind that involves men just like him. What the hell can he do to me now?

  I storm up to my bedroom and chuck my bag on the bed. No more than five seconds later he comes bursting into my room after me.

  “We are not done, Sofia. Do you understand me? You will explain yourself and what the hell got into you. Now.” His eyes glare at me, and for a moment I see just how his rivals or peers might see him if they displease him—the full power of Benjamin Vico’s wrath.

  Screw him.

  “You know what, Dad? We are done. Completely done. Because right now, I can’t believe you’re my father. How dare you come into my room and talk to me like this? And for what? What heinous crime have I committed? What travesty have I laid at our door? Nothing. I’ve done nothing for you to act this way, yet here you are!” My voice blazes through the room, growing in strength.

  “What has gotten into you? How dare you talk to me like this? You run away like the spoilt child we’ve made you, and—”

  “How dare I?” I raise my arms and point to myself in mock humour. “That is rich, Dad. How about we try this again?” My voice belies the fury pumping through my veins. All I can see in front of me is a fraud. An imposter.

  “What the hell has Quinn done to you? He’s going to fucking pay for this.”

  “Uncle Quinn has done nothing. I went for answers that you’ve refused to give to me. Refused to shed light on anything you or the Vico business do.”

  “And so, you run to Quinn?”

  “You gave me no choice. You’ve shut me out my entire life. Out of everything. You wouldn’t even let me go to a party.”

  “Everything,” he grates, as he stabs his finger at me, and for the first time, I worry where this argument is going. “Everything I have done is for your own good.”

  “My own good? You've stifled and lied to me. Kept me at a distance.”

  “You’re a child who wouldn’t understand.”

  “Oh, really? A child, am I? A child who’s been researching why synthetic opioids are more addictive than natural ones? A child who knows that if we can identify and replicate compound complexities of the neurons and their receptors in the brain, we’ll be a step closer to unlocking the nature of addiction. This is what I’ve been working on since I was sixteen. A child involved in cutting edge research that will hopefully mean an end to the addictive devastation of drugs.” I pause, needing the break, and wait for him to challenge me. “But of course, you know all about that, don’t you, Daddy?” My voice lowers, a sneer of disgust levelled at this man who used to be my father. “You have a vested interest in my research because it’s business for you, too, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?” His eyes narrow at me, trying to follow my random logic.

  “Drugs. Drugs is your business, isn’t it? The Vico empire you run has been built on years and years of crime.”

  His expression pales, only for a split second, but that’s all I need. That moment of hesitation as he plans his next step. Well, it’s too late now.

  “I think you’ve heard far too many stories while away on your travels. I suggest you stop this now, calm down and we can talk about your behaviour later.” His tone is ice cold and full of malice. I look at his hands, watching one of them gripping onto the doorframe, his knuckles whitening.

  “It’s not a story. I won’t have you cast this off as some figment of my imagination. Carter was with me when it happened. You’ve been making money from drugs, shipping them, dealing them and God knows what else, all your life, haven't you? That is your side of the business, the one the Canes have pulled back from.”

  His sudden cool demeanour is miles away from the rage he showed just a few moments ago, as he stares me down. My eyes don't budge from his. I refuse to cower any longer. Benjamin Vico or not, I will not be quietened. “I saw it with my own eyes, Dad. Heard your name, the same name I share with you.”

  “What do you mean, with your own eyes? Because I’ve been under the impression that you’ve been in Chicago with the Canes. Where the hell have you been? And why were you with Carter?”

  His outrage is clear. I should probably be wary, after all, this is Benjamin Vico, but this is yet more fuel for my burning fire against him. Why would he be concerned with where I was if there is no truth to what I’m saying? He’s caught himself in his own words.

  “I went to Florida with Carter. It was agreed I could go to the opening of a new Cane Casino. Except things went a little off plan.” My hand rests against my chest, the marks still hidden from sight. I keep the personal details of exactly how off plan to myself. My father is likely going to hunt Carter down after this anyway.

  Besides, there is no Carter and me.

  Dad paces in a tight circle, his hands raking through his hair. “Your precious Uncle Quinn thought it would be safe, and appropriate, to send his niece off with one of his employees?” He emphasises the last word, dragging it out as if he’s weighing the facts, but I can see the rage he’s biting back.

  “As I said, it was a deal. I wanted to see what business he was running as you’ve constantly blocked me from it. I know why now.”

  “Have you considered the danger that you're in, just by being my daughter? Do you see that now? Why I must protect you constantly?” His eyes bore into mine, imploring me to see. But I can’t see why he’s done what he’s done to me. Only what he’s built our entire life upon.

  “So, you don’t deny it? That you are just a crime lord, profiting from others misfortune?”

  One whole minute goes by without him responding. Fury effuses from his stance, and I can see a new mask slipping into place over his features. I've heard it a few times—heard the anger he levels at Mom every now and then, but I've never seen it directed at me. Not truly.

  I step back, away from him, glancing at the open door behind him. He wouldn't. I'm sure he wouldn't hit me, but then I've never pushed this hard. I’ve never dared. “Tell me the truth for once, Dad. Are you, or are you not, a crime lord?”

  His frown grows deeper, his black holes for eyes almost empty of any sign of life.

  “If you’re so determined to look at things this way, then yes. I am Benjamin Vico, and New York is my city. Mine.” My mouth opens, hatred, betrayal, venom and disgust ready to lash back at him. “And don't you dare think that after seeing one small element you can know half of what goes on.”

  “How could you?” I scream. “How could you do this to us?” I race towards him with my fists high and pound on his expensive jacket. His words just destroyed the small sliver of my heart that was, stupidly, still waiting for my dad to deny everything and come up with another explanation. Hearing him admit it himself makes it all the more real.

  Permanent.

  He can’t undo what he’s admitted, and I can’t forget everything I’ve learned.

  My fists continue to pound into him, but he just takes it. He takes every hit I give him, all of my anger, all of my hatred and disappointment. “You’ve ruined everything. You’ve made what I wanted to achieve worthless. Do you know that? Worthless. Does Mom know? Of course, she does.”

  As if she was listening, Mom comes into the room just as he's beginning to re
ach for my wrists. “Fia, stop that.”

  “No. I won’t.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “I hate you. I fucking hate you both for this.”

  Even before he says another word, Mom steps between me and Dad. “No, Benjamin,” she snaps out.

  He glares at her, then back at me.

  “Get out of the way, Hope. If our daughter can’t act like an adult, I’ll treat her like a child.”

  Something in me snaps completely, making me push Mom out the way to get in his face again. “Oh great, Dad. Like you have all my life. I don’t think you’d know how to treat me any different.”

  “In spite of everything you now seem to know, you still hold that against me? You're precious to me, and that means you're a target.” Emotion is suddenly thick in his words. So much so, it halts my raging fury. “You've always been my weakness. I don’t have weaknesses, Sofia. I can’t afford them.”

  “I’m not a weakness, Dad. I’m your daughter and a grown woman. Uncle Quinn treats Logan like a partner. Not a child. Carter trusts me. Why don’t you?”

  “Why does Carter trust you? He doesn’t know you.” His eyes narrow on me and for a second, I feel heat flush over my cheeks. That reaction isn’t something that’s easily missed, and Dad’s eyes grow wide as he takes a guess. “Sofia!” he bellows.

  “What, Dad?” I cross my arms over my chest in defiance, but internally my heart pounds against my chest as I realise my slip.

  “He’s a dead man, Sofia. Mark my words. I’ll cut his fucking eyes out for this and—”

  “Dad, no. Nothing happened. He protected me. Kept me safe from the people you do business with. We stayed in the hotel.” My words rush out in panic, my hands flying up in his face as I try to find the right thing to say to stop him flying into even more of a rage.

  I look over to Mom, pleading with my eyes for her to rein him in.