Chapter 5
I moved into the guest room the next day.
It was small. A single bed, a dresser with a wobbly drawer, a window that looked out over the backyard. But it was warm. And safe. And no one was going to sell me, or yell at me, or make me be someone I wasn’t.
Dominic still didn’t trust me.
I didn’t blame him.
He followed me around the house for the first three days. Watched me make coffee. Watched me fold laundry. Watched me talk to Lila. Never said much. Just watched.
Lila was different.
Cautious, but kind.
She’d sit with me at the kitchen table while I went through my list, adding names, adding details I’d forgotten. She’d make me tea. Ask me questions about my life before. Not the fancy parties. The real parts. The parts where I’d sit in my room for hours, reading, because no one noticed I was gone.
Slowly, I told her everything.
About my mom leaving when I was 10. About my father raising me to be a bargaining chip. About how I’d learned to smile when I was sad, to laugh when I was scared, to never let anyone see what I really felt.
She told me about her and Dominic.
How they’d met at 14, in the projects, when she’d dropped her books in the hallway and he’d stopped to help her pick them up. How he’d fought three boys who’d made fun of her worn-out shoes. How he’d promised her one day he’d give her everything she’d ever wanted.
How he’d taken the engagement deal with my father only because Lila’s mom was dying of cancer, and the hospital bills were more than he could ever pay on his own.
“I told him not to,” she said, stirring sugar into her tea. “I told him I’d rather have him than any house, any money, anything. But he was scared. Scared I’d lose my mom and have nothing left. He did it for me. All of it.”
I stared at my hands.
All that time I’d thought Dominic was cold. Heartless. Just like my father.
He’d been suffering too.
Trapped in the same deal I was.
The list grew longer every day.
I added the names of the three bookies my father owed the most money to. The city councilman who’d taken over $200,000 in bribes to look the other way on Rizzo construction deals. The cop who’d been on my father’s payroll for 10 years, who’d buried three assault reports for him.
I wrote down everything.
Dates, times, account numbers, locations.
Every dirty secret my father had ever told me, thinking I’d never dare use it against him.
One night, after Lila had gone to bed, Dominic found me at the kitchen table, still writing, the lamp casting a yellow glow over the pages.
He poured himself a glass of water.
Sat down across from me.
He didn’t say anything for a long time.
Just watched me write.
“Why are you really doing this?” he asked finally.
I stopped writing.
Looked up at him.
“I told you. I want to make things right.”
“Most people in your position would be begging for their old life back,” he said. “Begging me to take you back. Begging your father to forgive you. You’re throwing everything away to help the girl you publicly humiliated. It doesn’t make sense.”
I closed the notebook.
“My old life wasn’t a life,” I said. “It was a performance. Every day I had to wake up and be the perfect mafia princess. Smile when I wanted to scream. Nod when I wanted to run. I hated it. I hated myself for being in it. And then I hurt Lila. And I realized if I stayed in that life, I’d keep hurting people. I’d become just like my father. Cold. Greedy. Willing to do anything to get what I wanted.”
I looked him in the eye.
“I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to be someone who does the right thing. Even when it’s hard. Even when it costs me everything.”
He was quiet.
Stirred his water with his finger.
“I was going to call off the engagement that night, you know,” he said. “Before the party even started. I had the papers drawn up. The money for your father in a briefcase. I was going to tell you it was over. Give you enough money to go anywhere you wanted. Start over. Be whoever you wanted to be.”
I stared at him.
I’d never known that.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Lila spilled that champagne,” he said. “And you cut her hair. And everything changed.”
He took a drink of water.
“I’m not going to forgive you for what you did to her,” he said. “Not ever. She cried for three days after that party. Wouldn’t let anyone touch her hair. Was scared to leave the house. But… I believe you. That you’re trying. That you want to change. And that’s more than most people in our world ever do.”
He stood up.
“Get some sleep,” he said. “We’re going to need all the rest we can get. Tomorrow we go to the DA.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“The DA?”
“There’s a new district attorney,” he said. “Clean. No ties to the families. We give her your list, plus everything I have on my father’s old operations, and we take down every last corrupt son of a bitch in this city. Your father included. Once and for all.”
He walked out of the kitchen.
Left me sitting there, staring at the notebook in front of me.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I was doing something that mattered.
Something real.
The next morning, we drove downtown.
Dominic drove the old pickup. Lila sat in the middle, her hand resting on her belly. I sat in the passenger seat, holding the notebook tight against my chest.
We parked in front of the courthouse.
I looked up at the tall stone building.
My father had been here a hundred times. Always walking out free, smiling, because he’d paid off the right people.
Not this time.
I took a deep breath.
Opened the car door.
“Ready?” Dominic asked.
I nodded.
“Ready.”
We walked up the steps together.
Three people.
A mafia boss who’d walked away from his empire for love.
A pregnant girl who’d grown up with nothing and was about to have everything.
And me.
The girl who’d ruined everything, and was now trying to put it back together.
I didn’t know what was going to happen inside.
I didn’t know if the DA would believe us. I didn’t know if my father would go to jail. I didn’t know if any of this would be enough.
But I knew one thing.
Whatever happened, I was facing it head on.
No more hiding.
May you like
No more performing.
No more being a pawn.
