Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 272 -

*Giovani*

I sat in my car, smoke filling it up as I tapped my cigar on the built-in ashtray. The car wasn't moving, and the engine wasn't even on as it sat silently in the garage.

I hadn't bothered to go inside even after an hour of sitting in the same spot. I kept hoping for a call from Gabriele that would leave me rejoicing as he'd say that he'd found my cousin and gotten her back, that she was safe and would soon be home with that big smile of hers like nothing had ever happened.

But I knew that was stupid.

She was probably waking up surrounded by masked men she couldn't understand, bound and delirious from the drugs they had given her.

Maybe at this very moment, she'd be begging me to come to save her.

But all I could do was sit in my fucking car and smoke.

I was pathetic.

I snuffed out the rest of my cigar, which was only ashes at this point, and coughed as I briefly rolled down the window. The fresh air was welcome after an hour of breathing nothing but smoke.

Just as I reached for the door handle to drag my ass back inside and face the music and tears of Olivia, my phone rang.

I sighed, too exhausted for this as I answered.

"He cracked."

Gabriele's voice on the other side of the phone sounded pleased, but I could still hear another voice in the background, sobbing and muttering-probably the poor son of bitch we'd taken in. I knew how cruel Gabriele could be at times, but this time, I had no sympathy for the Russian bastard.

"What'd he say?"

"Dahlia's alive. They sedated her, but they have no plans to kill her yet," Gabriele said calmly.

I breathed a sigh of relief, not sure if I was allowed to be happy with this. Alive wasn't much.

She could still be tortured or countless other things they could do to her while she was in their custody. There was no limit to what the Russian bastards would do.

"Anything else?" I demanded.

"It was Zaytsev, as we thought. This guy didn't know the details. All he said was that their boss had a message for you."

"A message for me?" I clenched my fists. So this was related to the family business. This was my fault, just as I'd suspected.

She'd been kidnapped just to send me a message.

"What?" I bit out, angrily.

"This revenge is a long time coming. That's what he said."

"Fuck," I breathed, running a hand through my hair. Revenge? This had to be related to Mikhail and James. We all thought that mob had been destroyed years ago, but suddenly, they were everywhere.

I knew those bastards wouldn't give up so easily. But they were doing this now, after all this time?

"Should I clean up here?" Gabriele asked, as easily as if he was asking about the weather.

"We don't need him anymore," I said coldly, not an ounce of empathy in my mind.

"Yes, sir," Gabriele said, and I heard the gunshot immediately through the call.

The muttering in the background fell dead silent, and I felt only an ounce of vengeance. There was still so much rage left in me after this mess.

"We're searching the area to replace the remaining men, and I have a few investigators trying to determine who was running the mob now," Gabriele told me.

We had been positive they had been wiped out, but recently, somebody had been trying to revive it. But who? Who would still hold a grudge after this many years? And who had the authority to do something like this?

"I'll deal with the mole on my end," I said firmly. "You just focus on replaceing Dahlia and the bastards who took her."

"Yes, sir," Gabriele said, and the call went dead as he hung up.

I sighed, glancing into the rearview mirror. I hated how I could see the gray in my hair and the way the stress had formed wrinkles around my eyes.

I knew I was still handsome, but there was no denying that I was getting older.

I shut my eyes tightly, rubbing my temples as I forced back a headache. It felt like my head was between two steel drums, but even in the pain of the headache and stress, all I could think about was Olivia-her sweet smile and her gorgeous body as she clung to me. I wanted nothing more than to see her.

But how could I tell her that I didn't know where her best friend was... that I had let both of them down?

There was no other choice, though. Hopefully, she would be asleep by now, and I could get away with it.

I climbed out of the car, my phone in my hand as I readied myself to call the second group I needed to get things started.

Just as I unlocked the door and stepped inside, I was met with a figure sitting on the stairs.

Olivia stared at me, her eyes wide and red. There were clear streaks of tears still on her face, dried but prominent enough to be noticed.

She got to her feet, dressed only in a large hoodie that fell past her thighs. She looked like a mess, a beautiful one, but still a mess.

But it was the hope that shone in her eyes that made my heart fall to my feet. I wanted to pretend, as she turned to me with that unwavering faith in her eyes, like I was better a man than I actually was.

But then I saw the realization as I stepped in, alone. Her face fell apart, her eyes watering as she gazed over my shoulder for someone who wouldn't be coming.

And for a moment, I wished she could scream and hit me, to bang her fists on my chest until she felt better or throw me out of the house until I brought back Dahlia, to punish me for the sin of not protecting my baby cousin. But I was just kidding myself.

Olivia was too kind. And I was too much of a bastard to let that happen.

But that didn't mean the disappointment on her face didn't hurt more than a punch to the face ever would.

***

*Olivia*

I ended up not being able to sleep that night. Exhausted as I was, I only continued to think about Dahlia and Giovani and what was happening out there while I was stuck inside. Eventually, I slipped on my warmest hoodie and sat myself on the front stairs.

This way I could wait until Giovani came home, until he came in with that smile I loved and right by his side would be my best friend. I'd imagined it all already. I'd hug the life out of her, crying, and she'd tell me not to be a crybaby. I'd tell her everything I had been hiding from her, beg for her forgiveness, and hope to God I was lucky enough that she would forgive me.

We'd be okay, and she'd be safe and happy and everything would be perfect. This could all be some bad dream that we could leave in the past, a joke maybe in ten years or so, but nothing more than a memory. Everything would be fine.

But when the door opened and Giovani stepped inside, he was alone.

His eyebrows were furrowed again like he had a headache, and there were red spots on his white shirt that had me getting right to my feet.

"Are you-" I paled, my eyes stuck at the spots of red.

He blinked at me as if confused before following my gaze to the blood. Realization dawned in his eyes, and he gave me a guilty look. "It's not mine," he said firmly. "I'm not hurt."

I breathed a sigh of relief, not even bothering to question whose blood it was then. I assumed that if it was Dahlia's, he'd tell me. Eagerly, I took a step forward, and my eyes trailed behind him, hoping that Dahlia would pop out with that sheepish grin of hers.

But she didn't.

Giovani was alone.

I met his eyes, questioning my best friend's missing presence, and a flash of guilt ran through his. He turned his head away, gazing at the floor in shame, and my breath caught in my throat.

No.

There was no way.

I glanced at the spots of blood on his shirt, and I lost all the strength in my legs. My knees clacked together, and I grasped the banister to keep from collapsing to the floor. I stared at the red spots, unable to believe my eyes. Could it be Dahlia's blood after all?

No. He would have told me. But the images of her body, broken, bruised, and lifeless, was more than I could bear. My legs shook, and I nearly went to the floor at the thought-Dahlia, my best friend, dead and bleeding out while I was here safe and warm.

There was no way. She couldn't be.

"Is..." I swallowed, uncomfortably, gazing up at him with wide and shocked eyes. "Is she dead?"

His face fell in surprise, and I feared the worst for a whole second.

It felt like the floor had fallen out beneath me, opening up a black hole to swallow me.

I was just falling and falling endlessly, and I didn't know where I'd land.

My vision dimmed as I swore the spots of red on his shirt were growing and spreading. Her blood was pooling all over the floor, threatening to drown me, and I swayed to the side before his voice cut through the fear, shame, guilt, and despair. "No." The simple word was enough to ground me and bring me back to life.

"No," he repeated, shaking his head furiously. He wasted no time in stepping forward. He swept me into his arms, and I clung to him like a child.

My hands were shaking as I clasped them around his shirt, and he easily stopped me from falling over. "No. She's alive."

"She is?" I asked, my voice trembling and muffled from where I had buried my face in his shirt.

"Yes, carino, yes," Giovani breathed against my hair, his fingers burying themselves into my locks as he gripped me just as hard as I was holding onto him. "She's alive. I promise you that, but-"

I let out a shaky breath I didn't know I had been holding. I should have been relieved, but I knew that when somebody had attached a 'but' onto a sentence, nothing he said after would be good. I stiffened in his embrace before I finally got the courage to ask. "But?" I prompted, hoping he didn't say what I thought he would say.

"But she's missing," Giovani sighed.

A sob escaped my throat, whether of relief that she was still alive or the despair of having her missing, I didn't know. I buried my head into his chest and I cried.

He ran his fingers gently through my hair, not questioning me in the slightest as I cried for my best friend once more.