44. Ginevra

CHAPTER 44

Ginevra

“ H e won’t come for me,” I explain to Oliver after overhearing his conversation with Blake. “We’re getting a divorce. He doesn’t love me, so there’s no way he’s going to come here, which is obviously a trap. He’s not that stupid.”

Oliver backhands me and I cower in the passenger seat. We’re right outside my parents’ home, and I’m not sure why.

“He’ll come.” Oliver gets out of the car, unlocks my side and drags me out by my hair. His other hand holds a gun. “Let’s go see Mommy and Daddy.”

“Why? Why are we here? You don’t need to involve them in any of this.”

Oliver glances down at me like I said something stupid. “How else am I going to get your father’s approval? I need to show your parents how good I am for you, how much I love you, so that they’ll accept me into the family.”

I stare at him, speechless. He’s fucking insane.

The side of my face throbs, and the cool September air brushes against my clammy skin. Panic keeps pushing at the corners of my mind, but I hold it back, I can have a meltdown once this is all over—assuming that I’ll still be alive.

A foreign sense of calm settles over me at that thought.

Our housekeeper answers the door and Oliver barges inside, firing two shots into her head. I scream, unprepared for the violence.

At the sound, the two guards on duty run into the foyer, where Oliver holds me in front of him like a shield and guns them down. Papa rounds the corner, weapon in hand, and for a second I think that he’ll take the shot right through me to kill Oliver.

I see my life flash before my eyes in vivid detail. The good, the bad, and the painful, until the last image lingering in my mind is Blake’s handsome face. If only I could see him one last time before I die. That’s my wish.

Some unreadable emotion flickers in Papa’s eyes right before he slowly lowers his gun. “I don’t want trouble. Let her go.”

“Move into your office. Keep your hands up and don’t try anything.” Oliver pushes me along in front of him, his attention on my father. We step into his office, the most secure room in the house, right as Mama appears in the hallway. Oliver gestures with his weapon. “Inside. Now.”

Once we’re all in the office, Oliver closes the door. He ushers my parents to the open space before the cold hearth and has them down on their knees, hands behind their heads.

Dread wraps around my insides and squeezes so hard I struggle to draw a single breath. “What are you going to do to my parents?”

“That all depends, babe. Right now we’re just going to wait until our guest of honor arrives.” He holds the gun to my temple, and my heart hammers against my ribcage.

“He won’t come. Believe me, he doesn’t care about me like that.” It’s true. There’s no reality where Blake would give up his mother’s possession—that he’s spent years trying to find—and come rescue me instead. It’s simply not possible.

Oliver ignores me. “It’s so good to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Pontrelli. I’m sure you heard that Ginny and I broke up, but that was all just a misunderstanding. You see, we’re fated to be together. She’s my soulmate, and today you both are going to come to realize that.”

Mama stares up at Oliver, her expression neutral. While the man who is not my biological father silently fumes, if the redness of his face is any indication. Papa is not going to forgive Oliver for breaking into his house and murdering his staff. But that’s something to think about if we all make it out of here alive.

Which right now, I’m doubtful will happen.

“Leave my parents alone, Oliver, you don’t need them. I’ll go with you, willingly, I swear. I’ll do whatever you say, as long as you don’t hurt them.”

Oliver shakes me by my hair, the sting causes my eyes to water. “You’ll do whatever I say no matter what, you stupid slut. You hear me?”

I nod through the pain. A sob escapes my throat.

“Good. You know what, I’m tired of waiting. Let’s get this family drama started.” He points the gun at Papa. “You don’t treat your daughter very well, Mr. Pontrelli. But since I’m going to be part of this family soon, I can’t have you treating her like that anymore. She’s mine to degrade, and yell at, and tell her what a useless whore she is—that’s not your job any longer. Do we understand?—”

The office door bursts open, banging against the wall, and Oliver trains his gun on the man standing on the threshold.

Blake. He came.

My lips part in shock. I blink through the tears in my eyes to make sure I’m not hallucinating his appearance. He’s here, in all his sinister glory. Violence rolling off his broad shoulders in waves.

He came for me. Does he love me after all?

He gave up… so much. I can’t believe he’d do that for me unless he cares.

“Get your filthy hands off my wife .”

I hear the smirk in Oliver’s voice. “I knew you’d be joining us. Welcome. Come in and shut the door. Do it, or I’ll blow her fucking brains out.”

Blake steps inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He takes in the scene, my parents on their knees, Oliver’s fingers twisted in my hair and the gun in his hand.

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s resume. Where were we?” He points his revolver at Papa, then trains it on Blake. “Oh right, Mr. Pontrelli, tell me how you will no longer tell your daughter what a worthless little slut she is, now that it’s my job to do that instead.”

Papa grunts.

“That’s not an answer. Say it or I’ll make your wife bleed.”

“I understand,” Father blurts, his body swaying closer to Mama’s and I know he wants to throw himself in front of her, to offer his body as a shield.

“Good. That’s good. Now we’re on the same page. Next order of business… Mr. Pontrelli, tell us you give us your blessing. I’m going to take Ginny as my wife just as soon as she becomes a widow. But first, I need your blessing.”

The room seems to tilt as I make sense of Oliver’s words. He lured Blake here to kill him. Oh my god .

Papa nods, once. “You have my blessing.”

“That means so much to me, Daddy. I can call you Dad now, right? We’re almost family after all.”

My stomach lurches, threatening to spill what little it has in it from dinner last night. How in the hell did we all end up here? I need to do something, anything, to get us out of this. Blake can’t die because of me. That’s not what’s supposed to happen.

“Now, Daaaad , I’m a very perceptive kinda guy and I have this hunch that Ginny here’s real fucked up. She’s my beautifully broken babe. Unless I’m mistaken, I have you to thank for that. Did you fuck her when she was little?”

Papa’s crimson face pales to a ghostly white. “Absolutely not!”

“Hm. Not you then. But you know who did, don’t you?”

We all lock eyes on my father, waiting for his response. A hush falls over his office, the whirl of the air filtration system the only sound.

Finally, he nods. Mama gasps, then her stoic mask slides firmly back in place.

“Do tell, Daddy. Who is the man responsible for breaking my sweet Ginny?”

“My brother. Her uncle.”

“So you knew about it?”

Hesitantly, Papa nods again. He swallows hard and his eyes fill with remorse. “I’m so sorry, Ginevra.”

Oliver mocking repeats my father’s words. “ I’m so sorry . So sorry. Like that’s going to fix anything.” He scoffs. “You knew she was being molested and you didn’t do a damn thing about it. Did you?”

“No,” his confession’s a whisper.

I’ve held this against him for years, hating him for not believing me, for not taking my side and protecting me against Uncle Lorenzo. For years I acted out, trying to get his attention, to make him see me, but it didn’t work.

His single I’m sorry is too little, too late, but it’s more than he’s ever given me. I finally know why he’s always hated me—which is a secret between me, him, and Blake—and now everyone knows why I hate him. There’s nothing he can do to right that wrong. But maybe that’s okay. Since finding out that I’m not biologically his, I’ve hated him a bit less.

Maybe that’s part of the healing process—letting go of the anger and hatred for those who have wronged us.