Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

S ofia

W hen we arrived at the prison where my father was being held, the guards escorted us through a series of imposing looking gates and thick locked doors until we reached the visiting area. My father was already waiting for us on the other side of a glass partition. He looked tired, a little bit worried, but his eyes lit up when he saw me.

That was good to see.

"Papa," I whispered, taking a seat and picking up the phone that connected us. Massimo slid in the seat next to me and sat back, letting me take the lead.

It was honestly kind of hot that he did.

"Sofia, my daughter," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'm so sorry you're seeing me like this."

"Papa! How are you?" I asked, my voice soft.

"I've had better days, that's for certain," he replied with a bit of a cheeky grin. I sighed in relief.

If he was cracking a smile, that meant that things weren't too bad for him in there. Maybe I had Massimo to thank for that. I glanced in his direction, and he nodded once, almost like he was reading my mind, and I knew for certain that he was keeping him safe.

Now that I knew he was alright though, it was time to talk about more serious matters.

"I need to know the truth," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "How did you get involved with all of this?"

He sighed deeply, looking down at his hands. "I did it to protect you, to provide for you. Massimo needed someone he could trust, someone who wouldn't betray him. I wasn't laundering money to hurt anyone. It was just a way to keep our family safe and financially secure. It paid for your schooling and kept us afloat all these years."

I nodded, understanding yet still grappling with the enormity of it. "But why didn't you tell me? Why keep me in the dark?"

"I wanted to keep you away from that life," he said, his eyes pleading for my understanding. "I didn't want you to be tainted by it. I wanted you to have a normal life, far away from all this."

"I understand why you did it, and I'm not angry. I just… I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me," I said, my voice softening.

He looked relieved, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I was so afraid you'd hate me."

"I don't," I assured him. "But I need to know more, especially now that I'm… involved." I glanced at Massimo, but I quickly jerked my gaze back to my father, not ready to tell him about what happened between the two of us just yet. He caught my train of sight though and glanced between the two of us, but thankfully, he left it alone.

"I never wanted this for you," he said quietly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with sadness.

"I know, Papa, but it's too late for that," I replied, keeping my head held high. I was a part of this world now, and nothing was going to change that.

I just needed to learn how not to only survive, but to thrive. I was going to figure out who put my father in here and when I did, I was going to make certain that they wouldn't do it again. I didn't know how I was going to do that yet, but I'd figure out the details later, hopefully with Massimo's help.

"So it is," he murmured.

I sat back and stared at my father, seeing a stranger and his familiar gaze at the same time. His once bright eyes were now clouded with worry, deep lines etched into his forehead. Even though it had only been a day, it seemed like this whole ordeal had aged him another five years.

Seeing him behind bars like this broke my heart, but I couldn't let my emotions overwhelm me. I had to stay focused. There was no room for mistakes. I had to figure out a way to get him out.

"Papa," I said softly, leaning closer, "who do you think did this to you? Who would gain from seeing you here?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Massimo's business has many enemies. But recently, I had a feeling someone was watching us, waiting for the right moment to strike."

"Anyone specific?" I pressed, needing more information. He sighed. He didn't want to tell me. I could feel it, but I needed answers. This wasn't just about curiosity anymore; it was about protecting him, protecting us.

"Papa," I urged, my voice softer now, trying to coax the truth from him. "You need to tell me. We can't help you if I don't know what's going on."

His shoulders slumped, and he looked away, as if the words were too heavy to bear. Finally, he exhaled deeply, a sound that spoke of years of hardship and worry, and then he began to speak.

"There's a family, the Russos," he replied, his voice low. "We've had our disagreements, but things had been quiet for a while. Too quiet, in hindsight. They've always coveted our territory and our alliances. If anyone had the resources and the motive to set me up, it would be them."

"What can you tell me about them?" I asked, eager to know more.

"They're led by Antonio Russo," my father said, his expression hardening. "He's ambitious, and he'll stop at nothing to get what he wants. His son, Mario, is just as dangerous, if not more so. They're both capable of orchestrating something like this. They're based out of Sicily, but their power reaches far beyond that."

I nodded, absorbing his words. "Thank you, Papa," I said, my voice filled with determination. "I'll start looking into them. We'll find a way to get you out of here and stop them."

"I don't want you involved in this. Let Massimo sort this out," my father pleaded.

"It's too late for that."